#read the fic above to understand

[arthenaa]

heyy since there's gonna be a lot of ocs in this fic i just wanted to share some face references and small facts of some of my original characters for y'all hihi (will post more as story progresses, names mentioned below are only the characters mentioned for chapter 1 and prologue)

BRITISH MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Ryona Bassett

ACTUALLY MADE HER WITH ANGELA BASETT IN MIND ,,, Queen behavior

Head Auror of British Ministry of Magic

Recently promoted Head Auror after the capture of Hugo Blaire (wink wink guess which fic this is)

Sebastian previously worked in her division before he got transferred to Victoria Wren's care

in her late 40's

has a soft spot for Ominis but doesn't let it show (was a friend of his Aunt)

Ravenclaw

Half-blood

Face claim as Angela Bassett

Howard Arkenstone

just shat out a name tbh

one of the youngest ministers to be elected

deemed to be one of the strongest wizards of his time

the ministry loves this guy

Hufflepuff

Pureblood

early 50's

face claim as mark strong

Victoria Wren

the pics are so chefs kiss

face claim as Lashana Lynch

was once Howard Arkenson's protege

Sebastian Sallow's officer-in-command

strict af but she's a good mentor yo

strong admiration for Howard

Senior Auror

Late 30's

Slytherin

MACUSA

Gladys Hale

Slightly based off Connor from Detroit Become Human with a slight attitude ueehhehehhehehhehehhe

Auror and protégé of Joanne Goldstein

Legilimens

was taken under Joanne Goldstein's wing after interrupting a trial and pointed out the lies of a defendant (even tho she wasn't supposed to and it almost got her fired if it weren't for Joanne)

Blunt and expressionless most of the time but something about reader sets her off somehow (HIHI im gonna be pouring my ass on this fucking dynamic baby)

yk that meme where person a is like tired and holding a leashed person b thats u and gladys <3

somehow has to have something occupied in her hands

Horned Serpent

Face claim as Ana de Armas / Felicity Jones

Joanne Goldstein

I AM NOTOOKAYASJJA

anyways

1/3 of MACUSA's finest, Master in Truth Seeking, Senior Auror

gay GAY GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Alcohol enthusiast (Gladys oftens tells her to stop for the sake of her health)

Wizarding world's most renowned prosecutor and investigator

has 97.5% win rate in winning her trials

Animagus (in the form of a black cat)

Pureblood

Wampus

mid-40's

Face claim as Cate Blanchett

Elliot Fontaine

I HAD TO OKAY

God told me in my sleep he'd evaporate me in my sleep if i didnt put him as elliot's face claim

MACUSA's troublemaker

has absolute fucking rizz man

reader calls him old man as an exaggeration

America's most skilled duelist

delved in the dark arts during his 5th year

almost got him expelled tbh

can be often seen drinking w Joanne in bars (doesnt matter if its No-Maj or wizard)

has a sweet tooth and likes No-Maj sweets and coffee (something u acquired from him)

Half-blood

mid-40's

Thunderbird

2/3 of MACUSA's finest, (DAMN HE IS FINE) Master in the Dark Arts and Senior Auror

Gregory Walker

damn

anys 3/3 of MACUSA's finest <3 Senior Auror and Master of Charms

quiet, often likes to keep to himself

doesn't have a protege as of now (still hasn't decided actually)

unintentionally charming to ppl even tho he's socially awkward bc all he's ever done is be professional

but actually despite being professional, he has a wife and a kid !! <3 aw

his wife is his ilvermorny first love mwa

joanne and elliot love to mess w him

mid-50's

Pukwudgie

Margaery Simmons

President of MACUSA

America's Beloved Witch

This woman is mwa mwa

definition of elegance

very difficult to impress actually

elliot definitely tried to rizz her up once but she was just like :)

deemed to be wise af for her age

No one doubts her judgement

Horned Serpent

Late-40's

Face claim as Jessica Chastain

PHILMAJ

Regina Salazar

Activist for the Wizarding minority in the Philippines

Main antagonist of the series <3

Said to be quite friendly to muggles

Pureblood

Late-30's

Tala (check this post for house details in the PH)

Face claim as Jodi Sta. Maria

José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda "Jose Rizal"

Doctor, Scholar, Artist

Has Filipino and Chinese lineage

Pureblood but is actually a squib (how he was able to use magical objects will be explained more in the fic)

Currently resides with seromahis

mid-30's

Face claim as Dennis Trillo (why he kinda look like the eldest bridgerton)

PROLOGUE SIDE CHARACTERS

Don Jose Taviel de Andrade

Spanish military officer

Jose Rizal's friend and was tasked to keep him safe

Seromahi

Face claim as Juan Diego Botto

Don Manuel Pedro de Alfonso

General

Friend and Advisor to the King of Spain (Currently assigned to facilitate matters in the Philippines, all he does is laze around tbh)

rumored to be killed by Regina Salazar

discovered a mysterious artifiact in northern Philippines

Face claim as Paco Tous

____________________

A/N: anys i had fun with this HOPE IT ADDS MORE TO THE STORY and gets you to connect w the characters mwehehe

To be or not to be (CHAPTER 1)

Auror! Sebastian Sallow x Fem! MACUSA Auror! Reader Series

Story Summary: To prevent a war between humans and wizards, you and Sebastian are tasked with your respective agencies to save the fate of the wizarding world from the hands of a dark wizard in the Philippines.

Chapter Summary: The agencies get news of what happened, they've decided to put you and Sebastian on the case.

Chapter warnings: cursing, nothing much really, seb and you arguing its kinda cute,

Chapters: Prologue, MORE CHAPTERS COMING SOON

Notes: this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but i got kinda sick and only finished it now. enjoy the 6k words ppl &lt;3

“Simmons is summoning me?”

You were sure you heard wrong. An effect of the coffee you bought from a No-Maj coffee shop on the way to work. The caffeine was kicking in and causing you to have auditory delusions.

Yes, surely that must be it,

But the more you assess the woman’s deadpan stare and exhausted stature, the more you started to doubt if the coffee really had an effect at all. You had gone to the MACUSA headquarters with no expectations and a hefty paperwork awaiting your desk. It was mostly due to the fact that you had finished a heavy case alongside your mentor and Senior Auror, Elliot Fontaine.

Having mentors in MACUSA meant potential. They took you under their wing because they saw great potential in you and would have the possibility of joining the higher ranks alongside them where witches and wizards with formidable power reside. It was an honor that you definitely upheld and cherished from the day when Elliot witnessed your magical prowess on the field and began calling you ‘kid.’. He’s been with you ever since. Having a mentor also meant that you took cases in pairs. Lower rank Aurors are mostly handled and led by the Middle Ranks. They are formed in squads or teams while Higher rank Aurors such as Elliot operated individually or sometimes in pairs when they choose to mentor someone. Usually higher ranks are tasked with grave cases which usually involved dark wizards who plan to overtake communities while the lower ranks settled to maintain order and minor cases.

You had expected the moment that Gladys Hale, Joan Goldstein’s stagiaire, stepped into your office that a case would be delivered for your mentor but to your very very very big surprise. It was addressed to you.

“Are you sure you’re not tricking me? Like this is not some form of prank to make me look bad or something?” You asked with your hands wringing each other as you looked up at her with big eyes from your seat behind your desk. She blinks slowly as if to further emphasize her lack of mood to jest. You lick your lips as you feel them dry up from the lack of moisture in the air. The clacking of typewriters and the scratching of quill pens against parchment paper (a charm you had casted as multiple quills help you in lessening the piling workload on your desk) form a comfortable distraction from Gladys’ piercing eyes.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She says your last name with such disdain as if to say how disgusted she is that you would even consider her travelling few floors down instead of dawdling with the higher ups just to prank you. You let out a shaky breath as you place your hands on the cool wooden surface of your desk.

“… Can I at least know the details?”

“I’m not authorized to reveal case details unless you agree to come with me to the designated place.” Gladys answers with curt and firm professionalism. You stare at her some more, trying to find a flaw in her body language. It wasn’t every day that the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America would personally summon you to her office. Normally, situations like that called trouble or a possible loss of job or banishment to the cells under the Woolworth building and you were sure that you did nothing to warrant such cruel punishments (you think?).

You hadn’t realized that your mind further buried you into a spiraling descend to overthinking when Gladys decided she had enough and snapped her fingers in front of your face. You lean back fast in surprise as her face seems to look grouchier and cold than the last.

“Look, all I know is that Fontaine was the one who suggested you for this case to the President. Rest assured that your mentor will be present while they debrief you. A few other senior Aurors will be on standby and judging by the fact that Fontaine, Goldstein and Walker are called in one room, you are safe to assume that this is counted as a very important case. Understand?” Gladys raises her eyebrows as she expects you to finally calm your thoughts with her vague explanation.

It certainly did not help at all.

You put on a stiff smile while you made sure to strangle your no-good-of-a-mentor right after this so called debrief. So let’s sort this out, MACUSA’s great three is present in one room with the President being the handler of this case and they’ve elected you to be the primary representative and investigator of whatever fuckery this case might be.

What the actual fuck? Are they fucking mental?

“No, they’re not fucking mental, Y/N.” Gladys retorts as she crosses her arms over her chest. Right, she’s a legilimens. Right on Joan Goldstein’s track. The Senior Auror often handled prosecutions and interrogations. Gladys proved to be quite effective in this side of the Auror office due to her ability and efficiency in prosecuting dark wizards and made sure they rot in hell in their prisons under the fucking congress. It certainly proved to be a pain on the ass right now though. “Do know that ill-intentions towards the higher ranks are—“

“It was a joke, Hale. Calm your tits.” You chortle as you rise from your seat, putting on your coat and grabbing your wand from the safety of your desk drawer. Gladys sighs as she then waits for you to get ready. With a firm tug on the collars of your coat, you turn towards the brunette with a smile.

“Can’t keep the Madam President waiting can we?” You outstretch your hand towards her. “Assuming from the vague details you just explained, we’re expected someplace else?”

“Correct,” Gladys grabs your outstretched hand before pulling out a small book from her pockets. You know what it was—a portkey. To where it might lead you? You’ll never know. She glances at you as she motions the book in her hand. “This is authorized, do not fret.”

You sigh before nodding. Apparating within congress grounds was usually prohibited and there were only certain areas in the ministry that allowed such modes of travel. Portkeys usually were required to have the authorization and approval of the Travel department as well as the President so you knew that you didn’t need to move someplace else for the portkey to work. You only hope that the journey won’t result in you puking your guts out.

Gladys levitates the book in her hand as it begins turn page after page in a fast pace. The magic ruffles your clothes as green light emerges from the paper material of the pages. Gladys turns to you with a smile. “Let’s visit home, shall we?”

­­­­­­­­­­­ Rain pours down unto the streets of London, rendering the streets with murky waters. People bustle here and there as carriages roll down the stone pavements. It was considered to be another normal day for muggles however an entirely different scene is happening within the alleyways of London. A shadow stands on top of the buildings and peers down unto the narrow paths, watching a figure run down with escape only in their mind. The rain wets his coat as he lifts his wand, tip illuminating as he focuses it on the running figure. He then raises his free hand to tap against his temple, the skin illuminating under his touch. He forms a mind connection with another.

“Coming out your way. King’s Road. I’ve casted the tracking charm.” Sebastian Sallow murmurs into the connection with his partner. The figure disappears from his sight as he turns a sharp left into the streets.

“Nice work. On your position.” The man on the other side praises his work before the connection drops. He lets out a sigh before apparating to the discussed location. The man tries to disguise himself with the crowd as he pulls his coat to further cover his face. Sebastian follows him quietly behind, glancing on the other side of the street as another auror matches his pace. The fugitive seems to have caught on causing him to break into a sprint. The auror on the other side of the street gives him a curt nod before chasing him down. Sebastian turns to a corner to take a shortcut before a pair of hands grab him from moving any further. He raises his head in surprise, staring at familiar cloudy blue eyes.

“Ominis?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows in surprise at the presence of his dearest friend, Ominis Gaunt. The former Slytherin smiles at Sebastian’s voice before nodding his head towards the other way.

“No time to waste, come with me.” He mumbles quietly as he grasps his arm but Sebastian only stands still—confused.

“We’re in the middle of an operation. Wren’s expecting me to be with her in a few minutes. I’m sure this can wait?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows as Ominis lets out a huff. “They’re about to catch Collins and I have to be there to help.”

Ominis Gaunt can’t help but roll his eyes at his best friend’s attempt at firmness. It never really suited him as someone who had experienced all sorts of tomfoolery the Sallow boy had done throughout their stays at Hogwarts. After their graduation, the two of them immediately got jobs at the ministry. Ominis wasn’t surprised that Sebastian became an Auror and he was glad and incredibly grateful for his job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He often travelled as a demand from his work so seeing the brunette in front of him was definitely a missed sight. The Henry Collins case was trending currently in the wizarding world. An alchemist who used muggle subjects to perform his works on was horrifying enough that it was considered a main priority. Of course, you could count Sebastian Sallow to be part of the group of Aurors in charge of the case. Under the guidance and authority of Victoria Wren, a senior Auror and quite a renowned one, he was considered to be a genius investigator and a skilled duelist. Two factors that made him a great Auror. He was already recognized by the head as well as the Minister for Magic. It was safe to say that he was quite requested for the important cases. As said before, the Henry Collins Case was considered to be a priority, until recently.

“I was tasked to fetch you. They’ve sent someone from Yaxley’s squad to cover your position. Wren’s notified of it just now.” Ominis taps the end of his cane against ground, a small act he has to keep up with to avoid stares from muggles. Luckily with years of practice in transfiguration, he was able to transfigure his wand into a cane that allowed him to navigate himself freely in unknown areas without having to hit random strangers’ knees every time. It was a few hard months but definitely worth it. Professor Weasley surely must be proud of him.

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Tasked by who?”

Ominis sighs before placing a firm hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “The Minister of Magic himself along with the Head Auror. They’ve got a case for you. Bigger than this one, I fear.”

Sebastian’s jaw slightly falls at the mention of the two important figures. It wasn’t every day that the higher ups were the ones who requested for your presence. He wasn’t even promoted yet (a stupid mistake on Wren’s behalf according to him) and here he was, personally requested by wizards who could easily end his career. He lets out a shaky breath before glancing at the bustling street then back at his best friend.

“Are you sure you’re not just pranking me or something?” Sebastian tries to reassure the situation one more time but Ominis only shakes his head with a smile.

“Such a worrywart you are, Sebastian Sallow. Where has the Slytherin in you gone? A stain on Salazar’s legacy.” Ominis dramatically replies as he moves forward to intertwine his arm with Sebastian. He nudges him slightly before letting out a breath. “Hang tight.”

“What—“

And that was the last thing Sebastian said before he was pulled in by magic with three taps of Ominis’s cane on the ground.

“You could’ve at least let me prepare before apparating out of there?”  Sebastian leans against the ministry’s cold walls as he catches his breath. Ominis appears to be unaffected as he transfigures the cane back to his wand. Sebastian looks up at him with disdain. “How’d you even apparate in?”

“Authorized. Bragging rights.” Ominis grins as he begins to walk down the halls of the international delegation office, an exhausted Sebastian trudging behind him. The brunette examines the blonde’s back with boredom as he passes office after of office. Levitating quills and flying books flutter in the air as they quickly made their way to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Ominis stops with a quick halt causing Sebastian to bump into his back.

The brunette lets out an oomph as he pushes back against Ominis to steady himself. The blonde turns towards him with a sigh. Sebastian feels like his best friend would chastise him once more for his lack of attention but the blonde only turns back around towards the large black glossy doors and knocks a rhythm on the surface.

Instead of opening up like normal doors, they rotate as a gargoyle replaces its position. Ominis leans in to speak in parseltongue and Sebastian can’t help but be amused at his best friend speaking the language of snakes once more.

He remembers the blonde promising to not speak it again after their little altercation in the scriptorium.

“Sorry, the complexity of it all has a reason.” Ominis explains as the gargoyle rotates once more revealing a set of staircase leading down. Sebastian glances behind him as he lets his best friend go first before following behind him.

Every step lights a blue flame on the walls as they descend down the spiraling stairs. It was quite dizzy at first but the scenery of a whole new floor left Sebastian in awe. A functioning headquarters was right under the gargoyle as wizards and witches bustle around. Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as a large projection of a man getting blasted across the room and an image of a woman appears right after. The danger meter hanging on top of the ceiling was dangerously touching the tips of the red shade.

What the fuck is happening?

The two reach the final step before Ominis drags them to the front of the room where the Head Auror, Ryona Bassett, Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone and someone whom he’d never expect to be there, his old professor, Aesop Sharp.

The three seem to be in a deep conversation as Ominis and Sebastian arrive. The Gaunt clears his throat catch their attention. Ryona lets out a breath of relief at the arrival. “You’re here, at last.”

“Why is the meter red?” Sebastian immediately intercepts as he stares at the clock dangling on the ceiling. “That wasn’t like that this morning. Is it because of Collins?”

Howard lets out a sad huff. “Your mentor has got the Collins case handled but I’m afraid there are much more pressing matters. We received an intercontinental transmission message from another wizarding community regarding an emergency.”

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at the giant projection. Ryona moves beside Sebastian as she watches the moving image of the situation playing in a loop. The Head Auror turns towards the Sallow boy with a look of anguish. “That wizard community is at its wilting threads because of this, Sebastian. It’s only a matter of time that we’ll be affected by it as well.”

The brunette glances back at Ryona who smiles at him. “We’ve decided to put you on the case.”

“What?”

“You’re a duelist and have far more knowledge in the dark arts. At least according from what I heard from your Head Auror.” His old professor, Aesop intercepts. Ryona nods at her words.  “I was called here by Ryona. I will be part of the overseeing team of this whole case. There has never been a case like this for years.”

“I will be with you as well.” Ominis reassures behind him. Sebastian sighs as he tucks his hands within his pockets.

“Alright, tell me everything I need to know.”

Ilvermorny was beautiful than ever.

Sat on the highest peak of Mount Greylock was Ilvermorny School for Witches and Wizards. A place you once called home. Your old school. The stone walls of the castle looked sturdy and firm like it always had been as you trudged the halls of the castle. A few students murmur against one another as their eyes linger at your figures. You could practically hear the whispers of amazement as they recognize your connection to the congress. It wasn’t unusual to see an Auror here and there in the streets of New York but to see them in schools was definitely an alarming sight. It usually meant something was in trouble.

The potions professor, Ellen Quinn was tasked to be your guide to the assigned meeting. It was wise of the President to conduct her debrief here considering that Ilvermorny, like other wizarding schools, is a base of wizardry’s most powerful defense and combat magic. Where else to discuss such matters than the safest place in the wizarding world of America?

The heels of your boots clack nicely against the marble floors as you near the entrance to the Great Hall. Gladys stands beside you as Ellen motions for the two of you to wait before entering the hall. A blue light glides over the huge double doors—a privacy protection charm that you were sure Gregory Walker casted. A pure master in charms and spells. The man was most known for his great skill in silent charms and also created upgraded spells. A man of innovation.

Your mentor was most known for his affinity with the dark arts. Elliot Fontaine still is America’s most skilled magic duelist to this era. His work was often affiliated with dark magic and slowly he was able to build a slight immunity from dark curses. You weren’t surprised as to why they were called the MACUSA’s finest. Soon enough, you knew that you’d have to fill in the shoes of your mentor as Gladys and Gregory’s protégé will.

Gladys shuffles quietly beside you and you couldn’t help but turn your head towards her shifting. “Nervous?”

“For what? I’m not the one handling the case.” She answered with a teasing tone as she places her hands behind her back. You tense at the reminder before continuing to reminisce the memories of the past.

“I take that you’re a Horned Serpent then?” You change the topic as you glance at her from your peripheral vision. Gladys shakes her head as she laughs softly in amusement.

“Is it the legilimency that made you think that?” Gladys replies. You shrug jokingly.

“I mean, it makes sense…”

“Well, you’re right.” Gladys pats your shoulder as she replies. “Everyone expects a Hale to be a Horned Serpent.”

“Notice how I didn’t mention your lineage?”

“Oh shut up,” Gladys rolls her eyes as she says your name with playful annoyance. The doors open once more and you suddenly feel immense pressure from the amount of eyes staring at your arrival.

Joanne Goldstein.

Gregory Walker.

Elliot Fon—Wait no that old man can suck ass actually,

And of course, the President of MACUSA and the handler of your case, Margaery Simmons. You lock eyes with her and you see her lips twitch up into a gentle smile.

“Ms. Hale and Ms. Y/L/N.” She greets you with a gentle but professional tone. Your hands sweat as you enter the room. The doors glide again with the blue light as it closes with an echo. You discreetly brush them against the fabric of your coat before shaking the hand of America’s most beloved witch. “I trust that Ms. Hale was able to somewhat give you an idea as to why you were summoned here?”

“Somewhat.” You answer with a stiff smile as you glance at your mentor who only grins cheekily form his position beside Joanne. You subtly widen your eyes at him to which the senior Auror chuckles at.

“Good. Good.” Margaery nods her head slightly before grabbing a discarded newspaper placed on one of the tables. “Now that you have established that the debrief today is of a case with utmost importance, we will move on to the details.”

“To speed things up.” She adds as she motions the newspaper towards you and you take it with hesitance before flipping it to read the heading.

Influencial Seromahi killed by an unforgivable. Sources say the witch responsible for the murder is a Salazar.

“Seromahi?” You whisper in confusion as a moving picture of the event plays on the newspaper. You watch as a man is thrown back across the room by a spell you know all too well. A picture of a woman then flashes beside it, eyes mischievous and calculating.

“That’s a translated newspaper sent to us. It means No-Maj. Muggles for Britain.” Margaery muses as she elegantly places her hands on top of each other, positioned on her lower stomach. “Human.”

No way?

“A wizard killed a No-Maj in plain sight.” Gregory Walker chimes in from his position. Your heads turn towards him. “There are witnesses. Countless. Normally, matters like this are settled by their respective magical communities but the No-Maj killed is of foreign lineage.”

“An influential one as well.” You whisper as you try to assess more of what happened through the moving images. “How influential exactly?”

“A general.” Joanne Goldstein replies as she continues to sit on one of the empty chairs. “A friend and a close adviser to the King of Spain. This means something worse for us. A country as large and influential as Spain gaining knowledge of the existence of the wizarding world proves to be severely detrimental not only for the targeted magical community but also for the whole.”

Your jaw flutters at the severity of the situation as they stare at you with such seriousness. The gravity of this case can almost pummel you to the ground. Your hands tighten their grip around the paper. Margaery notices your nervousness. “Mr. Fontaine has suggested to assign you this task because of your capabilities and incredible skills as well as your affinity for magical tracing in dark magic. We don’t have much information on this but the head of the targeted magical community has reached out to send representatives per agency. You will not be alone in this, Y/N.”

This has to be your worst case yet. A wizard killing a No-Maj was not unheard of, in fact many prisoners underneath Woolworth were testified and charged guilty for the very reason. The severity of this situation was because the murder had been done in front of numerous No-Majs and the victim was also of influential standing. The murderer knew what she was doing. She did this on purpose.

Elliot Fontaine then walked towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of this case. This counts as your immediate promotion, kid. You’re designated as a Senior Auror and investigator. Welcome to the ranks, detective.”

You turn towards Margaery who nods in agreement. Gladys smiles behind you as she only watches and listens in on the discussion. You bow your head in respect, unable to currently speak words from the shock of it all.

A promotion and a fucking mind shattering, headache inducing of a case. How wonderful.

“We’ll be right with you as combat squads in case a brawl happens, Ms. Y/N.” Joanne reassures you. “Until then, you and a few other representatives will be the ones leading this case.”

“Where is it located?” You ask as you fold the newspaper and tucking it under your arm. Gladys turns towards you as she flips a coin into the air before catching it effortlessly.

“The Philippines.” She says as she smiles. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “But before we head there, we rendezvous first with the representative of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Elliot grins as he tucks his hands inside his pockets. “Pack up. We’re going to London.”

You had never expected your first trip to London was going to be like this.

Put on the spot by your higher ups to lead an investigation alongside a British representative was certainly not one of your list of reasons in visiting. You hoped that it would be for a vacation; a well-deserved leave.

You sigh for the nth time because while you did not expect your week to end up like this, it seems Isolt Sayre frowned upon you. Your day is in absolute shit.

First, you were lost. Like a kid who got lost in a fucking playground lost. Though these things never bothered you that much, it certainly was an annoying thing to deal with. You had gone out to hunt for a proper No-Maj coffee. Gladys thinks it’s absurd that you prefer No-Maj coffee over her own brew but you don’t have the heart to tell her that your heart might as well explode from the amount of caffeine she intakes and it’s not even the No-Maj kind which gives you the right kind of palpitation but it’s the wizard kind that leaves all sorts of side effects. You don’t want to deal with having discolored eyes for an hour because of it. Anyways, after hunting for a good coffee, you had somehow forgotten to retrace your footsteps.

You might be thinking, oh! But you’re a wizard anyways, you can just apparate out of there! WRONG. You had forgotten your wand as well. The portkey had already destroyed your inner organs (exaggerated obviously) and had left your mind grasping at straws. It hasn’t reversed back to its prime condition as you had forgotten your most important necessity of all.

You trudge along the streets of London with an exhausted look on your face. You look around, taking in the bustling streets of Monday morning. It was early and your darling roommate, Gladys Hale, had taken it upon herself to suffocate into the comfortable and soft duvet in her sleep. Well, you couldn’t blame her. The beds were definitely nice.

After being promoted as a Senior Auror, Joanne Goldstein had assigned Gladys Hale to be your assistant for the case. She says after all that 3 minds are better than two. You could almost laugh at Gladys’s stiff face as she certainly did not expect to be included in the trip.

As promised, the other Aurors had their respective portkeys, in case a war or a brawl severe enough to warrant backup was needed. They still had to solve other cases after all.

Unaware of your surroundings, you were suddenly pushed harshly on the side. You yelped at the sudden force as you landed on your side at the stone pavement, the harsh texture of rock digging on your skin. You were about to curse whoever it was but a sudden neigh of a horse catches your attention.

Your eyes widened as a horse seemed to have noticed you last minute and began to jump up in fear. Its hooves were directly in front of your face and the overall posture of the animal made it feel so large and intimidating.

Time slowed and you wondered if this was how you were going to die.

You could hear horrified gasps and the horrified yells of the coachman. This was it. The horse was about to smash your face in and you certainly think that whatever might have possessed Margaery to decided how much of a fucking idiot decision to place you as lead investigator for this whole Salazar case is a bunch of bullshit. Yeah, the old man was a bunch of bullshit as well. You close your eyes in fearbefore you hear a spell being casted.

“Petrificus Totalus.”

It was curt and discreet but you heard it. The horse froze above you suddenly and you took the chance to crawl backwards and out of its smashing zone. The spell was immediately gone as it was casted and a hand on your arm pulls you up.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he stands you properly. You stare at him, unable to speak as you look down at your spilt coffee. He notices where you’re looking at before sighing. “Please don’t go under horses and squashing yourself.”

You look back at the crowd you had created as they begin murmur and gossip over what just had happened. The man tsked as he pulled off his coat and pulled it over your head. You certainly think following this man was a bad idea but he had saved you and he was a wizard, so that was a well reason enough. He pulled you in an empty alleyway, away from prying eyes.

“Thank you— “As you try to express your gratitude, he pulled out his wand and pressed the tip of it against your temple. Your eyes widen as you know what he’s doing it. “Wait! Are you fucking obliviating me?!”

The man tilts his head back in shock at your reply. He squints his eyes as he drops his wand back. “Are you a witch?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yes and you just tried to fucking obliviate me without even giving me the chance to speak.”

“I thought you were a muggle. You had no wand on you?! Who doesn’t bring their wand everywhere. It’s like your most important necessity.” The man reasoned. Your jaw flutters in annoyance.

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave it at home but—“

The man then tensed, wand raised again as he squints his eyes in suspicion. “Wait, who sent you? Wizards lingering like this sound awfully suspicious.”

Your jaw drops at the accusation. Is this what you get for agreeing to this stupid mission? Your coffee definitely got the brunt end of it. You place your hands on your hips as you give him an incredulous stare. “Are you insisting I’m a criminal?”

“… Maybe,”

“You fucking idiot.”

“I-I mean who knows!” The wizard tries to defend himself. “You’re certainly acting like one.”

“What is your standard actually? I’ll have you know that casting spells in a No-Maj environment is a grave offense.” You retort, face filled with fury. You were seriously going to bash this man’s head in.

“I saved your life?!”

“Still, No-Maj environment mister.”

“No-Maj?” He tilts his head like a dog confused. It was almost cute if not for his idiocy. You sigh as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No magic. A non-wizard, dumbass.”

“For your information, we call them muggles.” He sarcastically responds before grabbing your arm. You gasp at his forward actions before trying to pull away.

“What are you doing?! I could have you filed for sexual assault—“

“I’m bringing you over to the ministry. Surely your excuse will matter when you face the court.” He scrunches his nose at you like an adult trying to talk to a toddler. You gasp at his insinuation and before you could even respond, you were gone.

Then a blink of an eye, you were someplace else.

You were sure that you were in a similar place to MACUSA. After all, you had heard him say ‘Ministry’ as he had forcefully hauled your ass over after he had tried to obliviate you. Darn fucking Monday.

The clack of your boots and his pristine shoes against the marble floors were satisfying. You could only look around in awe as he dragged you by the arm. The architecture was stunning. It was certainly quite different from your agency. It definitely gave off elegance. Amidst admiring the wondrousness of the building’s interior, you were then pulled to a stop which caused you to stumble on your feet.

The man gave you a look over with a raised eyebrow before looking at the receptionist. The woman nods in familiarity. “Mr. Sallow! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Is the court available? I have this very suspicious witch in my hands. I’d like her to be interrogated.” He smiles innocently at the receptionist who only raises her eyebrows in slight surprise. You turn towards him with a shocked look on your face.

“You’re putting me on trial?!”

“Why not?” He looks at you, deadpan. Oh gods, you wish you could strangle this man. “Loss of magical object and ill-intentions toward an officer-in-charge. Shall I name more?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You wish, darling.” He leans in with a wink, mockingly. You could feel your face heating at the response. This man was certainly attractive but you couldn’t let that distract you from planning to curse his bloodline for the next 7 fucking generations.

That was a joke.

You think?

You let yourself be dragged begrudgingly before a call of your name catches your attention. You never knew Gladys Hale’s presence could be a sigh of relief. It was almost comforting. The woman mentioned marched with fury leaving her steps as her eyes never seem to leave yours. She calls your last name once more. “You fucking idiot! I leave you for 15 minutes and now you’re getting yourself arrested?!”

The man responsible for your capture pauses as he stares at the two of you. You look at Gladys with pleading eyes. “Save me, Hale. This man’s trying to put me in jail for baseless claims.”

“She left her wand. Insulted me too.” The man chimes in as he locks eyes with Gladys. Your companion looks back at you with a sigh before pulling said object from her coat pocket. You let out a noise of appreciation as you grab the object, hugging it close to your chest.

“We’re with MACUSA,” Gladys flashes her ID to Sebastian who furrows her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be expected here— “

Sebastian’s eyes move from Gladys before looking at the newly entered people who, at first, doesn’t seem to notice them but then a man calls out an unfamiliar name and then he locks eyes with the Head Auror. He would try and greet in respect but the sound of you acknowledging the call immediately turned his head towards you in shock. Don’t fucking tell me this is—

“It seems you’ve already acquainted yourselves with one another?” Howard smiles alongside an unfamiliar man who he assumes to be of utmost importance judging by his overall aura. You furrow your eyebrows before turning towards the man beside you with a shocked look on your face.

“No fucking way.”

Elliot lets out a soft chuckle. “Mr. Sallow. Ms. Bassett has told me about you. Allow me to introduce my stagiaire, this is Y/N Y/L/N, MACUSA’s representative for the Salazar case.”

Sebastian turns to him in surprise, still speechless. The Head Auror notices the tense aura between you two. She raises an eyebrow at Sebastian who only smiles sheepishly at her stare.

“Alright, we’ve got no time to lose. Let’s go ahead and debrief the whole situation.”

You couldn’t believe this.

No, you will yourself not to. Sebastian, as you had come to know from his introduction, was supposedly your partner for this case. Well, the case was expected to have at least 5 representatives guided by a Division captain from the Philippines’ magical community. In those 5 representatives, they will be then grouped according to skill compatibility. The man beside you were decided to be your partner alongside Philippines’ representative, which you will meet at your arrival.

“According to our sources, the witch on target is Regina Salazar. A pureblood witch who was a big activist in the community.” Head Auror, Ryona Bassett discusses as she flips through a folder of the case intel. All of you had the same folder and your eyes lock with the moving picture of the culprit on yours. A pureblood? Interesting.

“Activist?” Sebastian chimes in from your side.

“The gal was a huge advocate for voicing the wizarding minority in the Philippines. Not sure as to why she’d suddenly kill a muggle. Sources also claim she’s quite friendly to muggles as well.” Howard furrows his eyebrows before placing his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers with one another.

“Quite an odd background for a dark wizard.” You comment as you flip through the case notes. Ryona seems to have her eyes settled on you before letting out a sigh.

“It seems we had a bit of an altercation this morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” Your head turns to her in surprise. “I apologize in behalf of the confusion.”

You bit your lip before smiling at her. “It’s alright, Ms. Bassett.”

“Aurors in the ministry should be great examples of the wizarding community,” Ryona sends a sharp look at Sebastian who almost cowers in fear like a kid who got caught in stealing some cookies. “My men should know better, isn’t that right, Mr. Sallow?”

The man lets out a begrudging sigh before turning towards you with a stiff look on his face. “Apologies, Ms. Y/L/N. Don’t forget your wand next time.”

You smile sarcastically at him before faking a smile towards the higher ups in front of you. Your mentor claps his hands to catch the attention of the room.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way. The case file also mentioned the discovery of an area in the northern Philippines.” He starts off as he stands from his seat, hands behind his back. “Not much is said about this in the files so I assume the debrief on this part will be conducted by your Division captain.”

You and Sebastian nod in understanding. The rest of the room stands up after an hour of planning before the Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone breaks the silence. “The two of you alongside Gladys Hale and Ominis Gaunt will be leaving for the Philippines in a few hours. Pack up what you need to bring and I can only hope that your time working together will be as efficient and swift as your capabilities as Aurors. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s a pause before both of you nod in understanding. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Howard nods at the two of your before motioning Ryona and Elliot to join alongside him. “Come, we have to talk to the operations team as well.”

The two follow him out of the room, leaving the two of you to still be standing in silence beside each other. As soon as the doors close with a loud thud, you turn towards him with a serious look on your face.

“Look, I’ve decided to forgive and forget this little altercation we had this morning in hopes that we’ll be having a good partner relationship.” You smile innocently at him. You sure hope that he’d let this go considering he was the one who started the whole shebang. He only smiles at you with a slight chuckle, a little too condescending. Your hate for this man ups a scale for sure.

“Mhm,” He hums, a little too low. It stirs something in your stomach that you indefinitely ignore. He leans down with a patronizing smile. “This is important for the wizarding world after all.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Are you?” He raises an eyebrow before standing in his full height. He steps aside to gather his case file and then walking out of the room. You stare at his back as he pauses before turning back towards you.

“Let’s work well together, Ms. Y/L/N. I look forward to our time in the Philippines.”

He sends you a boyish grin that would’ve made you swoon if it weren’t for his little act. You knew he was just playing along by your rules but never taking you seriously. You huff in annoyance as you run your fingers through your hair.

Sayre, this is going to definitely be a long fucking annoying case.

Notes:

sebastian: *smirks*

reader: oh my fucking god you're so fucking annoying fuck you fuck me id let you do unspeakable things to me

anys hehe so theres gonna be five of u gasppp <3 and also a bit of bg introduction of the plot's main antagonist hehe hope you guys enjoyed this hihi, apologies if theres any grammatical errors or typos, ill be proof reading tom mwa

[allpromarlo]

tell me why there’s abundances of smut when i scroll through a character’s fluff tag on here. tell me

[faksyan]

Saw people talking about cringy romance/smut fanfics they wrote as teens and how embarrassed they are by it now and went huh. so many writers had that phase I wonder why I didn't. guess I just didn't find any of that stuff that interesting.

my man my guy you should've figured out the aroace thing sooner.

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[alienssstufff]

This Should've Been an Email

His mouth moved without it telling it to, then closed like whoever was possessing him didn’t know what to say either. There was something going on, something Etho could feel but didn’t understand. They were standing on the edge of the world, and Etho didn’t know how to tell Bdubs he was out of time. Was he out of time? Maybe he was just going insane again. Maybe-

“Etho, there’s a lot of void energy going on right now, can you focus-”

You can’t outsmart a god. You can only run.

-

[ READ HERE ] Latest addition to the Should've Could've Would've series and sequel to the YCAOverse byyyy incredible great @goingdownorup cinemaaaa is HERE and we are BACK IN THE BUILDING!!!

[rambling undercut]

you've fallen for my trap card, ramblings not about the actual fic yet sorry - I'm going to talk about art technicalities at you now :]

Ver without the text:

I drew this up on a whim immediately after finishing the first chapter. Other than it being fanart, this year I want to think smarter when making elaborate pieces - this being the one of the first experiments on it.

sketches have always been my starting foundation I usually go through a few iterations gradually building off the rough thumbnail all the way to lineart. Here I'm establishing perspective and rhythm (movement), using background and props to better frame the emphasis (focal) rather than overwhelm the eye with unnecessary detail.

Shirahama's Witch Hat Atelier manga panels were an inspiration for the lineart (reoccuring character. WHA changed my life)

I even started actually putting base colours instead of skipping to shading... BASE COLOURS. BASE COLOURS WITHOUT SHADING? Crazy world we live in. Above were me testing which colours worked best for the background and purpose. Ethubs look a little out of place atm - this changes in solid filters

Shading itself was a lot of back and forth in constant fumbles to maintain the rhythm instructed in the lineart, adding emphasis how values needed to carry the visual communication of this piece especially with a line heavy background because of the wheatfields. Everything uses either cel shading, filters, or gradients - I wanted to find a way to add complexity to my regular rendering style without needing to manually blend/paint (takes too long)

During this stage, Heikala's watercolour art was the study in crowd control (backgrounds with organic repetition)

Smaller misc details that couldn't fit anywhere in the previous pages. Overall while there are some things I still would change/redo, overall very pleased as a first (second) attempt ^_^

[megwritesriddles]

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[aajjks]

Love & War (m)

warnings: vèry lóng, híghly 18+ thèmès, èxplïcït smüt/sèx, únprótèctèd sèx, chèátíng, górè, múrdèr, prègnáncy, lônlíness, èxplïcït víölèncè, blóód, yándèrè cháràctès, bördèrlínè cóffèè àddïctïön, dàrk jüngkóók.

pairing: yandere police officer jungkook x fem!Barista reader

genre: strictly 18+ killer fic, rated M, Gore, thriller and erotica

word count: 6,000

note. My fingers have been hurting so much these days because I’ve been dedicating a lot of time to writing this. I started this draft on October 14 and now I have finally finished it today and I wanted to publish this because I have worked hard on this so much I’ve done a lot of extensive research so please guys like it and re-blog it. This is worth a read I promise please please send feedback and let me know what you think because I really need it.

•••

This case in particular is brutal.

As Jungkook sits in his office space, he’s looking at the latest crime scene pictures. And they are brutal, the man’s throat is literally spilling out, tongue cut off.

There’s so much blood.

Seodaemun-gu is particularly cold, and he’s been working overtime, as an inspector he’s been pretty busy thanks to a psychotic serial killer who’s been targeting a lot of men lately

This is the 17th victim.

Jungkooks been trying to piece the puzzle together, he picks up the warm cup of coffee and gulps down another sip, his furrows his eyebrows, he knows that it’s just one person doing all of these killings.

The pattern of killing is too similar, the gore, the marks, the method.

There is a familiar drug found in every single one of the victims bodies.

“Fuck.” He curses as he drops the pictures on the table, he needs to catch the killer before it’s too late, it is too late anyways.

October isn’t so kind this year, it is harshly cold. And this case has his whole attention. “I’ll catch you, psycho.” He mutters under his breath.

He will catch the psycho before Halloween.

Jungkooks grip on his cup tightens. He will make this killer pay. Just as he’s staring at the pictures again, his phone rings.

He sighs, averting his gaze to his phone as he picks it up, a small smile playing on his face. “Hey baby!!!” He grins speaking into the phone.

He loves his girlfriend so much. She’s the only thing that is making him happy these days.

“Hey koo!” as she greets him back, he cannot stop smiling, “ahh so are we still on for tonight?” He asks slyly, she makes him so happy.

There is a silence for a few seconds, but he waits patiently for her response, Jungkook holds the phone up his ear, waiting.

“Oh… sorry baby but no, I’m kinda busy tonight. You know this assignment is keeping me up all night. I can’t I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters.

“U-Uh..”

This is the third time.

“Umm it’s okay.” he replies, playing it cool but honestly, he’s a little upset because she’s been doing everything but spending time with him and he’s the one trying to solve a fucking murder case.

“Don’t be upset koo… I swear I’ll make it up to you.” He sighs. “It’s okay baby. I…understand.” Jungkook knows there’s no point in arguing.

He just misses her.

After talking to her for a few minutes, he finally ends the call. It’s time he refocuses on the case.

What he should be focusing on right now is catching the killer

And not the fact that his girlfriend is literally ignoring him for the past days, he’s barely seen her face this month, it’s bothering him, but he cannot afford to be distracted right now.

There cannot be an 18th victim.

He won’t let it happen.

•••

It’s lonely

But at least now he gets to go to his favorite coffee shop and drink, coffee in peace while staring out at the view, honestly speaking the view isn’t that special but jungkook likes to have some free time to himself just so he can reconnect with the world.

he enters the coffee shop, the bells above jingle as the door opens, it’s not too crowded today which is a good thing because the less the crowd the more he can focus and think.

Only a handful of people who are drinking and waiting for their orders as he approaches his table. Jungkook sits down on it, taking the chair out.

He scans the area. He likes how peaceful it is here because his job is not peaceful or neither cute, he has just come back from seeing a gruesome murder scene and this is exactly the detox He needs right now.

“Hey!!! Mr Jeon?” his snap of his thoughts when the barista calls out his name, he turns to look ahead, and smiles seeing the familiar face.

“Hey Ms yn! How’s it going? I think I’m just gonna have the regular.” He tells, looking at you, and you nod, you’re a sweet girl.

You’ve been serving him coffee for the past year almost, “well got it! Maybe I should get you some brownie too; of course courtesy of me.” You laugh, “looks like you really could use some sweetness in your life since you work so hard”

He laughs a little, shaking his head. “yeah you’re right. It’s been quite bitter these days.” He mutters to himself almost.

You walk away. impatiently, he waits for his coffee.. He might have an addiction, but it’s OK. Caffeine is necessary when you’re a police officer.

Sometime later you come back with his order. And he looks at you, thanking you.. “thank you Ms yn. Appreciate you for putting up with me.” he jokes, you give him a kind smile, “oh Mr Jeon how about you Just call me yn?” You insist and he almost blushes.

“Ahhh sure sure I will but only if you call me by my first name too.” He waves his hand, picking up his coffee to take a sip, and the smell of the brownie just fills his nostrils and he hums in delight

“The brownie smells so good and this coffee is awesome. Thank you so much.”

You wink in return, which has his cheeks actually burning up

You’re bold and you’re confident and that he appreciates about you because maybe you like him a little and you don’t really make an effort to hide the fact

“Okay.. I’ll go now have fun” he watches as you go away.

And he can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest.

•••

A few days later, his same routine just goes on and on, but there is not a single point that he has been able to catch, which could help him actually lead to the killer

And his days are only getting worse. There’s an emptiness that he’s starting to feel. Honestly, he feels like a failure.

A failure of a boyfriend and a failure of an inspector.

Jungkook steps into his dimly lit apartment, shrugging off his rain-soaked jacket. The warmth of the place feels hollow, as if reflecting the emptiness creeping into his chest. He slumps onto the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. His mind is a mess, caught between the horrifying images of the latest crime scene, Mina’s growing distance, and the subtle comfort he finds in your quiet presence at the café.

He pulls out his phone and stares at Mina’s name in his contacts. Something in him snaps, and before he can overthink it, he presses “Call.”

It rings longer than it should.

“Hello?” Her voice is clipped, impatient.

“Mina. Can you come over?” he asks out of desperation because he so lonely, and he needs to feel her love and her warmth.

“It’s late, Jungkook. I’m busy.” he understands it. She’s been busy, but it’s been so long since he’s been with her physically and she keeps on being distant.

He’s starting to break, his face falls, and his voice hardens at her sudden coldness.

“Busy with what?” he demands, the sharpness in his voice surprising even himself. he gripped the phone tighter and waits for her response with a thumping heartbeat.

There’s a pause, long enough for unease to settle in his gut. “Work,” she finally says, but the word feels rehearsed, flat.

“Bullshit.” He stands, pacing the small living room. “You’re lying to me.” he knows that she’s lying. Does she really think that he’s that stupid?

“Excuse me?” Her tone hardens, defensive.

“You’ve been distant for weeks,” he says, his voice rising. “The late nights, the dodged questions, the way you look at me like I’m a stranger. If there’s something you’re hiding, Mina, I deserve to know.”

She exhales sharply, a sound halfway between frustration and guilt. “You’re paranoid, Jungkook. You’re always at work, always chasing some killer. Maybe the problem isn’t me—it’s you.”

“That’s not an answer,” he snaps. “You think I don’t notice the way you’re pulling away? The phone calls you don’t take around me? If you don’t want to be with me, just say it.”

Her silence cuts deeper than any words could.

“You’re impossible,” she finally says, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. “You think everything revolves around you and your job, but you don’t even see what’s right in front of you. Maybe I have been distant, Jungkook, but can you blame me? You’re so wrapped up in your case that there’s no room for anything—or anyone—else.”

He clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “You’re deflecting. Just tell me the truth, Mina. Are you seeing someone else?”

Her sharp intake of breath tells him everything he needs to know.

“Mina,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

“I’m not doing this,” she says, and the line goes dead.

Jungkook stares at his phone, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The quiet of the apartment feels suffocating, pressing in on him from all sides. He throws his phone onto the couch and grabs his keys, his mind a whirlwind of anger, betrayal, and something he can’t quite name.

But for a fact, he knows that he’s lost Mina forever. And the realization dawns on him as he stares at his phone screen. He’s alone once again like he has been for a month.

But maybe this time, forever

And it doesn’t take him long to break down in his apartment. He’s so alone and maybe he will be forever. Why can nobody ever love him?

Is he not deserving of love?

•••

The coffee shop is dark except for the faint glow of a single lamp by the counter. You’re wiping down the tables, your movements unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world. The sight of you—calm, grounded—makes something in Jungkook loosen, just slightly.

You look up as he enters, the chime of the bell breaking the silence.

“Jungkook?” you say, surprised. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just walks over to the counter and leans against it. “I needed to get out of my head.”

You study him, noting the tension in his jaw, the shadows under his eyes. “Rough day?”

He laughs bitterly. “You could say that.”

The way you look at him, makes his heart flutter in an abnormal way, maybe it’s the loneliness that he’s making behave like this but you’re gaze actually drives him crazy

You hesitate for a moment before stepping around the counter, standing a little closer to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says quickly, then softens. “I just… I don’t know. Everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

You nod, not pushing him for details. Instead, you reach for the bottle of whiskey you keep hidden behind the counter for nights like this. You pour him a glass and slide it across the table.

“Here,” you say. “On the house.”

He takes a sip, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the turmoil in his mind. “Thanks.”

You sit down beside him, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. But you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and searching.

“You’re always here,” he says suddenly, his voice soft.

“Someone has to be,” you reply, your lips quirking into a small smile.

“You know Y/N? I’m so fucking alone. My girlfriend is probably cheating on me. She doesn’t care about me…. No one cares about me.” His voice breaks on the last sentence.

You look at him with pity and something deeper swimming in your gaze, but he doesn’t know how to pinpoint it, you urge him to continue so he does.

He chuckles, but it’s humorless. “It’s more than that. You don’t know what it means to me, Y/N. Just… knowing there’s someone who gives a damn.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Well, you look like you could use someone in your corner.”

He turns to you then, his gaze intense, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you feels charged, electric

“Why do you care so much?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate, your pulse racing. “Maybe I just like seeing you smile.”

You’re the first person who has ever said that to him, and in that moment, he realizes that your silence is the only silence that doesn’t feel suffocating.

You look at him with such a deep emotion that it makes him go crazy, what are you doing to him? Why do you care about him so much?

You’ve been there for him since day one. You’re so comforting so kind and so nonjudgmental.

You listen to him rant, Complain, but you don’t say anything every time.

The more he looks at you, the more his heart keeps on thumping, inside his chest and alcohol just rushes through his body, and suddenly his pants feel so achingly tight.

The silence between you both is charged with tension, a tension that makes shivers go down his spine, you’re looking at him in a way that has him hallucinating that you want to lure him in.

He just wants to drown in your embrace, feel you in a way that no one has ever, he just wants to bury himself to hilt inside of you so maybe he can feel wanted again, and maybe he will feel safe for once.

His breath hitches, and before either of you can think better of it, his lips crash into yours.

•••

The back room of the café becomes a blur of heat and desperation as you both stumble in while he’s busy, shoving his tongue on your throat. It’s not tender—it’s raw, messy, driven by an ache neither of you can name. He breaks the kiss after it feels like hours, and he dips his head low and you feel his hot wet lips on your neck, His hands are rough against your skin, his lips leaving trails of bruises along your neck.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice breaking as his hands grip your hips. It feels so fucking good. The desperation and the need is driving you insane.

You can feel his muscular body, he’s so perfect. You have dreamed of this moment for the longest time. But you never really thought that it would come true.

But as he kisses your neck, his lips burn on your skin. And that makes you realize that this is your reality. You are finally getting to live your dream.

You moan out his name again breathlessly gripping on his shoulders so tightly as he attacks your neck, whispers of his name leave your mouth, you’re getting breathless, just by him kissing your skin.

That’s how much you want him.

He doesn’t respond with words, only pulls you closer, his movements frantic. It’s as though he’s trying to drown in you, to forget everything outside of this moment.

His scent is so exotic, he’s always smelled so good whenever he’s visited the café, his son is so stronger it surrounds the whole café and right now you’re so close to him. It’s getting you high.

You know that he’s drunk, he’s so fucking drunk and vulnerable, but you cannot bring yourself to stop him, especially not when he pushes your panties down, his lips hot on your collarbones.

How can you bring yourself to stop him when he’s suddenly licking his fingers, as he takes them out you, you stare at him, they’re glistening with his Saliva.

He’s so beautiful and so handsome, and the most sexiest man you’ve ever seen.

You can only encourage him, and you do that, when he finally starts to push his two digits inside of you, your hips buck up.

You’re so fucking wet it’s embarrassing.

He scissors them inside of you, curling them inside your gummy walls, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars, immediately and he’s barely even started

“AGGH…” you moan out loudly, He groans at the sound, sinking his teeth in your neck once again, he’s so needy right now, you feel his body temperature burning.

You’re burning up too.

Jungkook whispers in your ear, “take off my boxers.”

And you do, after that you start stroking his hard thick length, he’s so big, as you stare down at it, you gasp because it’s leaking already and it’s angry.

He’s been neglected for the longest time, you actually hate his girlfriend, but good for you. You get to feel him inside you like this.

He’s hungry for this. As you finally start to do the magic of your hands, he lets out a guttural moan, it’s so loud, and it rings in your ears.

you love the sounds he’s making right now. He sounds so hot almost like an animal in heat.

But he starts fucking your hand furiously, you lift his head up from your neck to look at him and you just want to keep him with you forever

He’s so beautiful.

He’s drooling, his eyes are closed as he feels the pleasure that you are giving him, the pleasure that he’s been denied for the longest time.

“T-Thank you so much for this because you have no idea how much I need this you have no idea how much I need you… yn- ngh… I’ve been dreaming about this… how about you… and you feel so much better than my imagination”

Jungkook cannot wait anymore though, just as he’s close, he wraps your legs around his waist and gently removes your hand, kisses you hard as he shoves his cock in your warm pussy.

“Let me feel your pussy, I need you, baby…” he begs, you grip his shoulders and kiss his cheek. He lets out a shuddering breath once your heat cages him in.

He starts moving his hips at a really fast pace, he’s jackhammering into you, Jungkooks moaning is echoing throughout the back room.

“NGHH mhmm AHHHG…. AHHH…”

The pleasure that you’re feeling right now is the most that you’ve ever felt in your life and you never knew that you could feel this good while having sex.

The sex with him is feeling so hot, so good and so fucking raw.

He’s so big you can see it bulging from inside of you, you gasp.

“Cum… please Cum inside me.”

You press desperate kisses on his neck, and on the hollow of his throat He’s so vocal about this. So hot. And then he lets out a desperate mewl as he cums inside your cunt.

It’s hot, thick and full as he fills you up to brim.

But it’s starts leaking out because it’s so much, you can feel it running down your thighs.

“You felt a-ah… so fuckin good, yn.”

When it’s over, the two of you lie tangled together on the worn couch, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, resting a hand on his chest. “Don’t apologize.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching for something he can’t find.

“You’re not alone, Jungkook,” you say softly. “Not anymore.”

But as he drifts off to sleep, your words echo in his mind, and unease curls in his chest.

•••

The first rays of sunlight filter through the cracks in the blinds, casting faint streaks across the cramped backroom of the café. The room is quiet, save for the sound of Jungkook's breathing. He lies awake on the couch, staring at the ceiling, your head resting on his chest, your arm draped over him like a lifeline.

The memories of the night before play in his mind on an endless loop-your soft moans, the way your body had responded to his touch, how you had whispered his name like a prayer. He feels a pang of guilt, but not for what he did. He doesn't regret it. Not the way your warmth had pulled him from the cold void he'd been living in, not the way you made him forget the weight of the world for a few fleeting hours.

What eats at him is the realization that he used you-your body, your kindness, your feelings— for his own selfish needs. And yet, as much as the guilt gnaws at him, a darker truth lingers: it had felt so good. You had felt so good.

Your breathing changes, pulling him from his thoughts. You stir slightly, your fingers twitching against his chest before you lift your head to meet his gaze.

"Good morning," you say softly, your voice thick with sleep.

He swallows hard, unsure of what to say.

“Morning,” he replies, his voice quieter than he intends.

You sit up slowly, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you adjust yourself on the edge of the couch. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of what happened between you hanging in the air.

“Are you okay?” you ask finally, breaking the silence.

“I don't know,” he admits, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

You bite your lip, looking down at your lap. "Last night..."

“Wasn't supposed to happen,” he says, cutting you off.

You flinch slightly but force a small smile. “I know,” you murmur.

He sighs deeply, sitting up and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don't regret it,” he says finally, his voice low.

Your head snaps up, your eyes wide with surprise.

“I don't regret being with you,” he continues, his tone softening. “But I regret... I regret that I used you. That I let my emotions... my loneliness take over. You didn't deserve that.”

You shake your head, reaching out to touch his arm. “Jungkook, you didn't use me. I wanted it too.”

He looks at you, his dark eyes filled with conflict.

“I know you did. But that doesn't make it right.”

You hold his gaze, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “It's not wrong either,” you whisper.

He exhales sharply, standing up and pulling on his jacket. “I need to think," he mutters. “I need to figure out what I'm doing.”

Jungkook walks through the quiet streets, the early morning chill biting at his skin. His mind is a storm of emotions-shame, guilt, longing. He knows he should be thinking about Mina, the case, about everything that's been spiraling out of control in his life. But all he can think about is you.

You, with your soft smile and kind eyes. You, who had welcomed him without judgment. You, who had given him a moment of solace in the chaos.

He doesn't regret being with you, but he regrets what it means. He regrets how easily you've slipped into the cracks of his carefully constructed walls.

And yet, even as he walks away, he knows he'll come back to you. He always does.

Meanwhile, you’re feeling the same… after he leaves you at the door as it shuts.

You sit on the couch long after Jungkook has gone, staring at the spot where he had been just minutes before. Your heart feels heavy, conflicted. Last night had been everything you'd ever wanted, but now it feels tainted by his guilt, his regret.

Still, you can't bring yourself to regret it. Not when it had felt so perfect, so right.

But as you move to the front of the café, preparing for the day ahead, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted between you and Jungkook. And you're not sure if it's for better or worse.

But you do know that this was only the beginning and this is not gonna end ever and you don’t want to.

•••

A month goes by, he hasn’t visited the cafe after that night woth you, he’s started to get over Mina, The investigation starts to grow worse, the killer more mysterious than ever. Jungkook’s focus shifts entirely to the case, but the memory of that night with you lingers, a dangerous distraction. He avoids Mina entirely, his guilt toward her eclipsed by the tangled emotions he feels when he sees you.

It’s only a matter of time before everything comes crashing down.

•••

The night Jungkook slept with you still lingers in his mind, haunting him like a half-remembered dream, a moment of clarity and chaos all at once. He tells himself it was a mistake, that he was drunk, confused, and in need of something—someone—that wasn’t Mina. But he knows deep down, it was more than that. It was the kind of intimacy that made him feel human again, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Yet, when he wakes up the next morning, reality settles back into place. He tries to push you out of his thoughts as he makes his way to work, but every time he passes by the café, he finds himself looking for you, wondering if you’re there. The guilt gnaws at him, but the emptiness inside makes him think about you again, just for a moment.

What Jungkook doesn’t know, what he can’t see, is that the girl behind the counter, the quiet barista with the warm smile, has already made up her mind. You’ve already planned it out.

Mina is your problem now.

Mina never did anything wrong. She never even knew the darkness that lurked beneath your calm exterior. To her, you were just another face behind the counter, the one who always smiled, who always gave her the right change with a soft chuckle. She was just another customer. But that was before you realized she was still with Jungkook, and that was the last straw.

Mina knows about your crush on Jungkook because, on several occasions in the past, Jungkook had brought her with him when he visited the café. It wasn’t frequent, but enough for Mina to catch on to the subtle tension that simmered between you and him.

You hadn’t meant to make it obvious, but every time Jungkook walked into the café, your demeanor shifted. You’d become a little more flustered, your heart would race, and your eyes would light up, especially when he greeted you with that easy smile. It didn’t take much for someone like Mina, who was always looking for cracks in the façade, to notice.

The first time Jungkook brought her in, you did your best to be casual, to act as though you weren’t paying any special attention to him.

But Mina, watching from across the table, saw how you seemed a little more eager, a little more careful with every cup you made for him. She observed how your voice softened when you spoke to him, how your hands trembled just slightly as you handed him his order. It wasn’t hard for her to figure it out: there was something more than just friendship between you two, even if it was unspoken.

After that day, Mina started coming in more frequently when she knew Jungkook would be there.

She made a point of sitting at a table near the counter, watching the subtle interactions between you two, almost like a game. It gave her a sense of satisfaction—of control—to see how much you cared for him, how much you tried to hide it.

What really gave Mina the final piece of the puzzle was the day Jungkook brought her in again. This time, the way you interacted with him was different. You didn’t hide your feelings as well. You weren’t as guarded. Maybe you thought Jungkook had stopped noticing, that you could just be yourself around him without it being awkward, but Mina saw through it.

She watched you smile at him a little too brightly, watched how your voice softened when you said his name.

That’s when she knew. She had been right all along.

From that point forward, Mina began to play with this knowledge, poking at you, dropping little comments here and there about Jungkook. It wasn’t out of genuine interest in your well-being.

No, Mina was the type who thrived on power, on knowing things others didn’t. She knew you had feelings for Jungkook, and she wasn’t above using that against you.

Mina wasn’t a regular customer, but she made it a point to come by whenever she knew Jungkook would be there. She’d sit back, watch, and wait for you to slip up—because she knew it wouldn’t be long before you showed just how much you cared.

You watch her from the back of the café, your fingers tightening around the edge of the counter as she orders another coffee, laughs too loudly at something a friend says, her smile a little too bright.

You’re not the type to go unnoticed, not anymore. You’ve made sure of it. But this girl? She’s everything you’re not. Beautiful, untainted. Her life is easy—untainted by secrets or shame. But that life is a lie. And she doesn’t deserve it.

The tension builds like a slow-burning fuse as the afternoon wears on. Your hand shakes as you wipe down the counter, the hum of the coffee machine loud in your ears.

Mina doesn’t know how much you hate her. Doesn’t know that she’s the one thing standing between you and what you’ve convinced yourself is yours. Jungkook.

The thought of him with her, the way he always turns to her in the café, makes your stomach twist. You wish she’d just disappear. So, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

•••

The café is quiet as you lock up for the night.

The faint hum of the city lingers in the distance, but it doesn't reach your small sanctuary.

It's been a month since the night with Jungkook, and though he hasn't been back to the café in days, the memory of him is enough to send a shiver through your body.

You've noticed changes-small ones at first. A nauseous unease in the mornings, a fatigue that you can't shake. Tonight, though, you can't ignore the obvious anymore. Your period is late

far too late.

When you get home, you head straight for the drawer where you hid the pregnancy test. It had been an impulsive purchase a few days ago, something you hadn't wanted to face until you

absolutely had to.

The bathroom feels impossibly quiet as you take the test, sitting on the edge of the tub and waiting for the results. Seconds stretch into an eternity. When the lines appear, bold and unmistakable, the air leaves your lungs.

Your mind races. The weight of the word sinks into your chest. It's him. Jungkook. That night.

The night when everything felt like it could finally belong to you. But now, this?

Panic bubbles inside you, but it's swallowed by something darker, more visceral.

Mina's face flashes in your mind, and it's as if the pregnancy test has turned her shadow into a living, breathing entity. She's always there, always hovering around the edges of your thoughts, a reminder of what you'll never truly have.

She broke up with Jungkook that night. You've pieced that much together. She left him, but her presence still looms over you.

It's her fault you feel this way. Her fault that Jungkook can't be entirely yours.

Before you realize it, you're out the door again, the pregnancy test left abandoned on the counter. The idea takes root in your mind with terrifying clarity.

Mina's address isn't hard to find. She used to post pictures from home-soft, curated glimpses of her perfect life.

The city streets blur as you drive. Your fingers tighten on the wheel as adrenaline floods your veins.

When you pull up to her house, the world feels unnervingly still. The house is modest but exudes her curated style, clean and pristine. A pang of rage surges through you.

You knock softly at first. When there's no response, you knock louder, your fist trembling against the wood. Finally, the door opens.

Mina stands there in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, her hair tied back, and her expression instantly hardens when she sees you.

“What are you doing here?” she says sharply, her voice cutting through the air.

You don't answer. You push past her, stepping into her living room without waiting for an invitation. She whirls around, glaring at you.

“Excuse me?” Mina snaps, her hands on her hips. "You can't just barge in here-"

But you're not listening. Your focus sharpens as you glance around the room, taking in the perfection of it all. Everything she's built, everything she's taken from you without even knowing it.

“You ruined him,” you say suddenly, your voice low and trembling.

Mina freezes, her brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“You don't deserve him,” you continue, stepping closer. The words spill out, raw and jagged. You never did. You threw him away.”

Mina's eyes widen, and for the first time, there's a flicker of unease in her expression. “Are you insane?” she says, backing up slightly. “This has nothing to do with you.”

But it does. It has everything to do with you.

The knife is in your pocket, cold and heavy against your palm as you pull it out. Mina's eyes go wide, and she lets out a sharp gasp.

“Y/N, stop. What are vou doing?” she says, her voice trembling now, you see fear in her eyes, and that is so satisfying

“I'm taking back what's mine,” you whisper, stepping forward.

Mina screams as you lunge, but she's fast. Her nails rake across your arm as she tries to push you away, drawing blood. The knife slips from your grasp briefly, clattering to the floor, and the two of you struggle, crashing into the coffee table.

She fights harder than you expected. Her fists hit your sides, her nails digging into your skin.

But your rage is stronger, a blinding force that drives you forward.

Finally, you grab the knife again, plunging it into her chest. The scream chokes in her throat, her hands flailing weakly as you press the blade deeper.

The fight leaves her body, her eyes glazing over as she crumples to the floor.

You stand there, panting, your body trembling with adrenaline. Blood pools around her, staining the pristine floor, and it's then you notice the streaks of red on yor wn arms.

Her nails. She scratched you.

Your breath quickens as the reality sets in. You grab a dishcloth from the kitchen, wrapping it around your arm to staunch the bleeding.

You leave quickly, your mind racing. The blood you've left behind is a risk, but it's done now.

She's gone.

As you drive away, the silence in the car feels deafening. You glance at your bandaged arm, your chest heaving with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

It's over. She's gone.

But the faint, nagging thought of the blood you've left behind lingers in the back of your mind, a seed of doubt that you can't shake.

•••

The next day, Jungkook’s phone rings with the news. Mina’s body is found in at her home reported by the neighbors, discarded like a broken toy. The details of her murder are grisly—so much blood, so many signs of a struggle. But there’s something more. Something that gnaws at him,

He doesn’t know it yet, And Jungkook has no idea how close he is to the one thing he’s been hunting.

As he visits the scene of the crime, his heart heavy with guilt over his own sins, the truth starts to swirl around him, each clue pulling him closer to you. But you are always just one step ahead.

And you’re not finished yet.

•••

Jungkook stands at the edge of the crime scene, Mina’s home. Familiar home, his mind racing as he watches the forensic team finish their work. Mina’s body has been taken away, but something about the scene feels unfinished—unnerving. As the team packs up, the lingering sense of wrongness creeps into his chest.

He takes a few more steps into the room, his eyes scanning every inch.

The silence is heavy, thick with the smell of blood, and something else, something he can’t quite place. He feels like he’s being watched even though he’s the only one left. His gut instinct tells him there’s more to find, something hidden beneath the surface.

“Detective Jeon,” a voice calls out, pulling him from his thoughts. He turns to see Officer Lee, the junior detective, holding a small evidence bag.

“What is it?” Jungkook asks, his voice tight with impatience.

“Sir,” Lee continues, stepping closer. “We found something odd in the kitchen area, near the counter. It’s fresh blood, but it doesn’t match the scene at all. It’s… different.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, different?”

Lee’s face shifts, his expression nervous. “It’s not the same consistency as the blood we’ve been seeing from the victims. It seems… newer, almost as if it wasn’t part of the original violence.”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. The blood. It’s almost like the killer made a mistake. He follows Lee to the kitchen, where they find the dark stain on the floor. It’s small but unmistakable, a sharp contrast against the faded red of the rest of the scene.

He kneels down, his gloved fingers brushing the edges of the stain. The blood is darker than what they’ve seen from the victim, almost as though it’s been there for some time—but that doesn’t make sense. He knew Mina was killed just hours ago.

“Is this from the victim?” Jungkook asks, still focused on the stain.

“We don’t think so,” Lee replies, his tone uncertain. “It’s not consistent with the rest of the scene.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “It looks fresh.”

His instincts kick in. Something is off, and he knows it’s not just the stain. His gaze lingers on the blood. He needs to know more. If this is part of the same pattern, then they’re dealing with something entirely different.

“Send it to forensics,” he orders. “Get it tested immediately. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Hours pass before Jungkook finds himself in the sterile white of the forensics lab, waiting as the technician works quickly to process the blood sample they’ve retrieved from the crime scene.

He stands by, his mind on edge, feeling the pull of the unknown tightening its grip. The room is quiet, save for the hum of machinery and the faint clicking of keyboards as the technician runs the test.

Finally, the technician hands Jungkook a printed report. Jungkook takes it with a calmness he doesn’t feel, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he scans the document.

The results are like a slap in the face.

The blood—this blood—belongs to a woman.

His chest tightens as he rereads the details. But it’s not just any woman. The test shows the presence of hormone levels consistent with early pregnancy.

A pregnant woman.

The words blur before his eyes. His mind struggles to make sense of it. Pregnant? How could it be?

This isn’t just some random woman who happened to get involved in the case. This is a pregnant woman. The kind of detail that changes everything.

He stares at the report in stunned silence. Mina’s murder doesn’t fit with any of the previous patterns, but this… this is a whole new level of complexity. And, despite his growing confusion, Jungkook can’t shake the nagging thought that the killer might be someone unexpected—someone who’s been hiding in plain sight.

Jungkook’s mind races as he pieces everything together. The fact that the blood belongs to a pregnant woman is huge. It feels like a lead that could take him in an entirely new direction, but there’s something else gnawing at him. A suspicion he can’t quite shake.

It’s the note he found on Mina’s body. The strange connection between the killings. Every victim has had a twisted background, all male, all with histories of violence or crime. But Mina… she was an exception. A woman. And she wasn’t involved in the same kind of criminal activity.

His gut is telling him something isn’t right. He’s seen this before—when his intuition is pushing him toward an answer, even when he doesn’t have all the pieces. And now, with this new revelation about the blood, that nagging feeling is only growing stronger.

Could the killer be a woman? Could the killer be pregnant? The thought unsettles him, but it makes sense. Perhaps this is the killer’s twist—targeting those who have wronged others, who’ve hurt people in the most vicious ways, while hiding behind a carefully crafted disguise.

As he stands there, staring at the test results, a chilling realization slowly begins to creep in. He hasn’t even begun to connect the dots. He hasn’t yet put it all together.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes the one thing that’s been staring him in the face all along: someone close to him could be hiding this terrible secret.

But he doesn’t know who that is yet.

The blood. The pregnancy. The mysterious nature of Mina’s death—everything points to a killer who’s been hidden from view. Someone who’s not just playing a part in this sick game but is actively controlling the strings.

Jungkook takes one last look at the report in his hand. The piece of paper seems to burn with the weight of its revelation.

“Pregnant,” he mutters under his breath, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. “Who could it be?”

Jungkook’s thoughts are muddled. He hasn’t even considered the possibility that someone he knows could be involved. But the facts keep leading him in that direction.

With every passing second, the answer feels closer, yet farther away. All Jungkook knows for certain is that this case is far more complicated than he ever imagined.

And the killer is closer than he thinks.

•••

That night? he decides to visit his favorite coffee place again

The café is dimly lit, the warm golden glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows across the empty tables. It’s late—well past closing time for most places—but you’re still here. You’ve started staying later than usual, lingering in the quiet of your sanctuary, unable to go home to the lingering guilt of what you’ve done.

You’re wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimes. The sound startles you, breaking through the silence. When you look up, it’s him.

Jungkook.

He’s standing in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. It’s been a month since that night, and he hasn’t been back since. Seeing him now feels like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

“Jungkook,” you say softly, your voice barely audible. “You’re here again after a long time..”

He offers a small, tired smile as he steps inside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “I know it’s late… but are you still making coffee?”

You nod quickly, trying to push down the rising emotions threatening to choke you. “Of course. For you? Always.”

He sits at his usual spot near the counter, leaning back in the chair as he watches you move around the machine. The silence between you is thick, weighted with everything unsaid.

As you hand him the cup, his fingers brush against yours. The contact is brief but electric, sending a shiver up your spine. He takes a sip, his eyes closing as he lets out a soft sigh.

“This is exactly what I needed,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You can’t hold it in anymore. The words burst from your lips before you can stop them. “I need to tell you something.”

He looks up at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “What is it?”

Your hands tremble as you grip the counter for support. You’ve been rehearsing this in your head for days, but now, with him sitting there, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

“I’m… I’m pregnant,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, his expression is unreadable. He sets the cup down slowly, staring at you like he’s trying to piece together what you just said.

“What?” he says finally, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

You swallow hard, nodding. “It’s yours, Jungkook. From that night.”

His breath hitches, and he leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Pregnant,” he repeats, almost to himself. The weight of the revelation sinks in, his eyes flicking to your stomach before meeting your gaze again.

“That’s… that’s a lot to process,” he says finally, his tone careful.

“But.. promise that I won’t abandon you… I will take full responsibility.. don’t worry… I’m so sorry”

You’re about to say something—anything to break the tension—when his gaze drops to your arm. His brows knit together as he notices the faint, raw scratches peeking out from beneath your sleeve.

“What happened to your arm?” he asks, his tone shifting, more alert now.

Your heart skips a beat, panic rising in your chest. You pull your sleeve down instinctively, hiding the marks. “It’s nothing,” you say quickly, too quickly.

He doesn’t look convinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies you. “Those look fresh,” he says, his voice sharp. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” you say firmly, forcing a laugh. “I’m just clumsy, that’s all.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. He just watches you, his gaze searching, like he’s trying to read the truth in your expression.

“Y/N,” he says finally, his voice soft but insistent. “If something’s going on, you need to tell me.”

You shake your head, plastering on a smile that feels more like a mask. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to worry.”

But he doesn’t look convinced. His jaw tightens, and he leans forward slightly, his fingers drumming against the edge of the table.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low.

You nod quickly, avoiding his gaze. “I promise. Everything’s fine.”

He doesn’t press further, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his eyes on you as you turn away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning.

The rest of the conversation is stilted, awkward. He finishes his coffee quickly, his movements stiff and deliberate.

“I should go,” he says finally, standing up and sliding the cup toward you. “Thanks for the coffee.”

You nod, forcing a smile as you watch him leave. The door swings shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening.

You lean against the counter, your legs trembling beneath you. The scratches on your arm burn as if in reminder. You knew this moment would come, but now that it has, you feel the weight of everything crashing down around you.

He doesn’t suspect you—not yet. But the way he looked at you, the questions he asked… it’s only a matter of time.

•••

Jungkook sits at his desk in the dimly lit precinct, the case file for Mina’s murder spread out before him. His mind is a storm, every detail looping back to the one piece of evidence he can’t shake—the fresh blood at the crime scene, identified as belonging to a pregnant woman.

He had brushed it off at first, thinking maybe it was some unknown accomplice or a bizarre twist in the killer’s pattern. But now, after his late-night visit to the café, everything feels like it’s coming together in ways he wishes it wouldn’t.

His hands clench into fists as he remembers Y/N’s confession.

And then there were the scratches.

They’d looked raw, fresh—exactly like the kind of defensive wounds a victim might leave behind. He tries to dismiss the thought. It’s Y/N, he tells himself. Sweet, shy Y/N, who wouldn’t hurt a fly. But the evidence won’t let him go.

The blood. The scratches. Her sudden nervousness, the way she pulled her sleeve down, the way she avoided his eyes when he asked her about it.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He doesn’t want to believe it—doesn’t even want to entertain the thought. But as an inspector, he knows he can’t ignore the signs.

He flips through the photos from the crime scene, his eyes lingering on the smear of blood leading away from Mina’s body. The forensic team had confirmed it didn’t belong to Mina, and it wasn’t old enough to have been left by anyone else.

It had to be the killer’s.

He leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. His mind races with conflicting thoughts—his duty to the case, his growing feelings for Y/N, and the sickening possibility that they might be connected in ways he can’t yet comprehend.

“Jeon,” his partner calls from across the room, breaking his train of thought. “Anything new?”

Jungkook shakes his head, snapping the file shut. “No,” he lies. “Still piecing it together.”

But inside, he knows he can’t ignore this.

The next night, Jungkook finds himself back at the café. It’s late again, and the streets are quiet, save for the occasional hum of a passing car. He tells himself he’s just here for coffee, to clear his head. But deep down, he knows that’s not true.

Y/N is behind the counter, her movements slower than usual, as if weighed down by something unseen. She startles when she sees him walk in, her eyes wide, but she quickly masks it with a smile.

“Back again?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

He nods, offering a small smile of his own. “Couldn’t stay away. You make the best coffee, remember?”

She laughs softly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. He watches her closely as she moves, noticing the way she avoids his gaze, the way she keeps her sleeves tugged down over her wrists.

When she sets the cup in front of him, he doesn’t drink right away. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice steady but probing.

She looks up at him, her smile faltering. “Yeah?”

“You never told me how you got those scratches,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Her breath catches, and he sees the flicker of panic in her expression before she quickly masks it. “I told you,” she says lightly. “I’m clumsy.”

“Clumsy enough to leave marks like that?” he presses, his gaze unrelenting.

Her hands tremble slightly as she picks up a cloth and starts wiping down the counter. “Why are you asking?” she says, her tone defensive.

He leans back, his jaw tightening. “Just curious. You know, with everything going on… people getting hurt. Makes me worry.”

She doesn’t respond, her focus fixed on the counter. The tension between them is thick, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

“I’m fine,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Jungkook isn’t convinced. Every instinct in him is screaming that something is wrong, that she’s hiding something. And yet, despite everything, a part of him doesn’t want to believe it.

“Okay,” he says finally, his tone softening. “If you say so.”

But as he leaves the café that night, the weight of his suspicions feels heavier than ever. The blood, the scratches, her nervousness—it all lines up too perfectly to ignore.

Jungkook walks slowly back to his car, his mind swirling with thoughts he doesn’t want to entertain. He stops just short of the driver’s seat, leaning against the door and staring at the dark street ahead.

The Y/N he knows—the one he’s been drawn to, the one who seemed so kind, so unassuming—couldn’t possibly be capable of this. Could she?

He slams his fist lightly against the roof of the car, frustration boiling under his skin. He doesn’t want to doubt her. But the evidence doesn’t lie.

That same night, Jungkook decides to dive deeper into the case. He returns to the precinct and retrieves the forensic report on the blood found at Mina’s home. He’s read it before, but now, with fresh eyes, he scans the details again.

The report confirms it: the blood belongs to a pregnant woman. The realization sends a chill down his spine.

Jungkook rubs a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping in as he tries to piece it all together. The killer had left no other trace—no prints, no DNA—just this blood. It was careless, uncharacteristic of someone who had been so meticulous with the other murders.

Why now? he wonders.

The connection feels tenuous at best, but the scratches on Y/N’s arm flash in his mind again, and he can’t ignore the unease building in his chest.

“Jeon,” his partner calls from his desk, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re still here? Go home, man. You’ve been at this for weeks.”

Jungkook forces a nod, shutting the file and grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I’m going,” he mutters.

But he doesn’t go home.

Instead, he drives back to Mina’s house, parking a short distance away and stepping out into the cold night. The crime scene has long since been cleared, but he needs to see it again, needs to feel it.

The house looms dark and silent, a grim reminder of what had happened within its walls. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel as he shines his flashlight across the ground.

And then he sees it—a faint stain on the walkway leading away from the house.

His heart pounds as he kneels down, pulling on gloves and carefully swabbing the dried blood. It’s faint but fresh enough to have gone unnoticed during the initial sweep.

He stands, staring at the swab in his hand. It could be nothing, a stray smear left behind by someone from the forensics team. But it could also be something.

Someone.

As he slips the evidence into a bag, his mind circles back to Y/N. The scratches. Her sudden announcement. The way she seemed so on edge, so unlike herself.

The thought makes his stomach twist painfully. He doesn’t want to believe it, but the pieces are falling into place, and the picture they’re forming is one he can’t ignore.

He gets back into his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His next steps are clear: have the blood tested again, cross-reference it, and get answers.

But for now, he sits in the dark, staring out at the empty street,

Caught between his duty as an inspector and the growing fear that the woman he’s falling for might be the one he’s been chasing all along.

•••

It’s been days since Jungkook swabbed the blood at Mina’s crime scene. Days of sleepless nights, staring at reports, running DNA tests, and trying to ignore the tightening noose of suspicion around Y/N.

The results came back that morning. The blood is a match. A match for the mysterious pregnant killer. A match for Y/N, You.

The words on the report burn into his mind, but he can’t bring himself to process them fully. Instead, he spends hours driving aimlessly through Seodaemun-gu, circling back to the café before stopping outside Y/N’s small apartment.

He’s not sure what he’s going to say, or do. The woman he’s fallen for—who is carrying his child—has killed at least eighteen people, including Mina. But the thought of turning you in feels like a betrayal he’s incapable of.

Jungkook climbs the steps to your door, his heart pounding so hard he’s sure you’ll hear it the moment he knocks.

The door opens almost immediately, and Y/N’s face lights up in surprise. “Jungkook,” you say softly, but there’s a tension in your voice, as if you’ve been expecting this moment.

He steps inside without asking, closing the door behind him. His eyes scan the room, searching for something—anything that might confirm what he already knows.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you say, your voice low. You move to the small kitchen, your movements stiff.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “We need to talk.”

You freeze, your back to him, her hand resting on the counter. “About what?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead stepping closer. “You already know what.”

Y/N turns to face him, Your expression guarded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jungkook.”

“Don’t,” he says, his tone sharper than he intends. He exhales slowly, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I know, Y/N. About Mina. About all of it.”

Your face pales, and for a moment, you doesn’t respond. Then you cross your arms, your gaze steady but wary. “You’re mistaken,” you say evenly.

“I’m not,” he replies. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the forensic report, dropping it onto the table. “This is your blood. At Mina’s house. You were there.”

Y/N’s breath catches, and you looks down at the report, your hands trembling. “It’s not what you think,” you whisper,

“Then tell me what it is!” His voice rises, the frustration and desperation spilling out. “Because the evidence says you killed her, Y/N. It says you’ve killed all of them.”

She doesn’t deny it. Instead, she steps back, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as if to steady herself. “I did it,” she says quietly, her voice breaking. “But they deserved it, Jungkook. Every single one of them.”

He stares at her, the weight of her confession hitting him like a freight train. “Mina didn’t deserve it,” he says, his voice hollow.

Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head. “She broke you, Jungkook. She hurt you. And I couldn’t—”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” he shouts, his voice cracking with emotion. “You had no right!”

Silence falls between them, heavy and suffocating. Y/N’s tears spill over, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t try to defend herself further.

Jungkook rubs a hand over his face, his thoughts spiraling. He knows what he should do—what his duty demands. But when he looks at her, at the woman carrying his child, he feels nothing but agony.

“I’m pregnant,” she says suddenly, her voice trembling.

“I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“SERIOUSLY YN What the fuck have you done? I fell in love with a psychotic killer. FUCK!”

She flinches at his tone, her tears falling harder. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says, her voice cracking. “I just, I couldn’t let them keep hurting people. I couldn’t let her keep hurting you.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, her words tearing through him. When he finally looks at her again, his expression is unreadable. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” he asks, his voice quiet but laced with pain.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You’ve destroyed everything,” he says, his voice breaking.

She sobs, collapsing into a chair. “I didn’t mean to destroy you, Jungkook. I—”

“You didn’t destroy me,” he cuts her off, his tone icy. “You destroyed us.”

The room falls silent again, the weight of his words suffocating them both.

Finally, he speaks, his voice hollow. “I can’t turn you in, Y/N. I should, but I can’t. Because I—” He stops himself, shaking his head as if to dispel the thought. “But I need you to know that what you’ve done… it’s unforgivable.”

She looks up at him, her tear-streaked face full of anguish. “Then what happens now?”

Jungkook stares at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched, his hands trembling. “I don’t know,” he says finally, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know.”

And with that, he turns and walks out, leaving her alone with her guilt and the devastating weight of what she’s done.

•••

He takes a lot of Days to think about what he’s gonna do next, the truth is that he’s fallen too deeply in love with you to turn you in especially since he found out that you’re pregnant and as fucked up as it sounds, but the way you confessed to him that you killed Mina because she had hurt him,

It switched something inside him.. no one has ever gone that far for him.

You’re expecting his child

He has to do something to save you. He cannot turn you in no matter what.

So he decides to do something, a week later.

Jungkook sits alone in his car, parked a block away from the station. The stack of case files sits on the passenger seat, the details of eighteen brutal murders outlined in gruesome detail. At the top of the stack is Mina’s file.

The weight of what he’s about to do crushes his chest, but he’s made his decision.

If you go down, you take his child with you. You take him with you.

He exhales sharply, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He’s always been a by-the-book cop, but the moment he fell for Y/N, that part of him started to crumble. Now, he’s about to destroy what’s left of it.

He enters the station with confidence and a mask.

The precinct buzzes with energy as Jungkook walks in, the familiar hum of chatter and clacking keyboards filling the air. His partner, Detective Choi, greets him with a nod.

“Got something for me, Jeon?” Choi asks, leaning back in his chair.

Jungkook sets the files down on his desk, forcing a calm expression. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ve been looking into a lead.”

Choi raises an eyebrow. “A lead? We’ve been spinning our wheels on this for months. What kind of lead?”

Jungkook opens Mina’s file, pulling out the report he fabricated the night before. He had spent hours doctoring evidence, crafting a story that would absolve Y/N of suspicion.

“This,” he says, handing the report to Choi.

Choi scans the document, his expression shifting from skepticism to curiosity. “A drug connection?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook lies smoothly. “I traced the source of the drug found in all the victims to a trafficking ring operating out of Incheon. It’s messy, but I think one of their enforcers is responsible for the killings.”

Choi frowns, flipping through the pages. “An enforcer who kills eighteen people, including Mina, and just disappears?”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook says, leaning in. “I think they’ve already been eliminated. Internal cleaning. It explains why the killings stopped after Mina’s case.”

It’s a bold lie, but Jungkook delivers it with conviction, weaving in just enough plausible details to make it stick. He knows Choi is sharp, but he also knows his partner is tired of this case. They all are.

Choi nods slowly, handing the report back. “It’s a stretch, but it tracks. You’re saying we close this case on the assumption the killer’s dead?”

Jungkook shrugs, feigning indifference. “Unless you’ve got a better lead, I don’t see another option. The evidence lines up. It’s messy, but it fits.”

Choi exhales heavily, rubbing his temples. “Fine. I’ll run it by the chief.”

•••

The reaction is mixed. Some detectives are relieved to put the case behind them, satisfied with Jungkook’s explanation. Others grumble about loose ends and unanswered questions, but no one presses too hard.

“Good work, Jeon,” the chief says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve been on this for months. Go home. Get some rest.”

Jungkook forces a smile, nodding. “Thanks, chief.”

As he walks out of the precinct, he feels the weight of his actions settle over him. He’s betrayed his badge, his oath, and every victim in this case.

But he’s saved you.

But there’s still a lot of loose ends that he needs to tie up, especially to convince his department that the pregnant woman was a pawn.

He needs to do something really convincing, and soon because time is running out.

•••

After a lot of days later, you’re almost now almost two pregnant, Jungkook hasn’t visited you after that confrontation and you think that maybe he’s abandoned you and maybe he’s gonna arrest you but you’re ready to pay for your sins.

You know what you were getting into when you decided to do this and you don’t regret killing any one of them.

Especially not Mina

Only if you had any idea… about what is happening around you…

 The apartment is quiet when Jungkook arrives. The air feels thick with tension, the kind that comes from unsaid words, from everything that’s been building up for weeks, months even.

He’s been here before, countless times, but tonight feels different. It’s as if the weight of everything that’s happened has finally caught up to him. The lies. The murder. The twisted love you’ve both been hiding from.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table when he walks in, a cup of cold coffee in front of you, untouched. The dim light casts long shadows across your face,

making you look almost ethereal, but there’s a darkness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen before. He doesn’t know whether it’s the guilt or the truth that lingers between you both, but it’s there. It’s palpable.

You don’t stand up when he enters. You don’t even look at him at first. Instead, your fingers trace the rim of the cup absentmindedly, like you’re lost in thought, deciding what to say. Or maybe deciding if you should say anything at all.

“You’re here,” you say finally, your voice quiet, almost resigned. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

Jungkook closes the door behind him, his breath heavy. The sight of you is almost too much to bear.

He feels the pull, the urgency of everything that’s been building up since that night at the café. But there’s something else too. Something darker. The guilt. The secret he’s been keeping. The knowledge that he’s closing his eyes to the truth.

“I had to,” he replies, his voice hoarse. His eyes move to you, scanning your face, trying to find the woman he once thought he understood, the one who wasn’t a murderer. But now, nothing seems as simple as it once did.

You finally look up, your eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, he sees it. The crack in your facade. The vulnerability that you’ve been hiding. But it’s fleeting. Quickly masked by that cold, calculating expression he’s learned to fear.

“You did what you had to?” you echo, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “Funny. I didn’t know I was something you had to protect.”

Your stomach twists, guilt washing over you as you feel the weight of your words. The truth that he’s been avoiding hits you like a punch to the gut.

“I didn’t want to…,” he starts, his words faltering. “I didn’t want any of this. But I couldn’t let you go. Not after everything.”

You smile, but it’s not a smile at all. It’s a mask. A shield you’ve put up, but he sees through it. Just like he’s starting to see through everything you’ve done.

“Why didn’t you let me go, Jungkook?” you ask, standing slowly, your eyes never leaving his. You take a step toward him, the space between you narrowing with every heartbeat. “Because of your guilt? Or because you want me? Because you want us?”

Jungkook feels the heat rising in his chest, his body tense, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He wants to deny it, wants to tell you that it’s not like that, but the truth is too raw to ignore. He’s in too deep. He’s in love with you.

“I…” he hesitates, struggling with the words that seem impossible to say. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/N. But I want you. More than anything.”

The words hang in the air between you both, thick with tension. You step closer, the space between you vanishing entirely. Your breath is warm against his skin as you raise a hand to his chest, tracing a line down to the hem of his shirt.

“Then why do you keep pretending like this is all just a mistake?” Your voice is soft now, a little breathless, but there’s something in it that makes his heart race even faster. “You know what I’ve done. You know the truth. So why are we still playing this game?”

His chest tightens as he stares into your eyes, the question echoing in his mind. Why are we still playing this game?

He’s already crossed too many lines, already made choices that can’t be undone. He’s in love with you, and that’s the only truth he can hold onto right now. But the guilt, the knowledge of what you’ve done—it’s suffocating him.

“I’m here because I don’t have a choice,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve already made my choice. And it’s you.”

You look at him, your gaze calculating, but something flickers in your eyes. Relief? Or is it something darker? He can’t tell anymore.

“You don’t have to choose between me and the truth, Jungkook,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re inches apart. “The truth is… we belong together. In everything we’ve done. In everything we’ll do.”

The words send a shiver through him. There’s no going back now. He knows it. You know it.

His hands reach for you, pulling you into him, and your lips meet in a kiss that is desperate and consuming. He’s not thinking anymore. He’s not questioning. He’s just here, with you, drowning in everything that’s pulled you both together.

When you finally break apart, his breath is ragged, his chest heaving. Your hands rest on his shoulders, your eyes dark with something he can’t quite place.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he says, his voice hoarse, the words pouring out of him without thought.

“I know,” you reply softly, your fingers brushing against his neck. “And I’ll do anything for you too. But we have to be honest with each other now. No more lies.”

He nods, the weight of your words sinking into his bones. There’s no turning back now. “Jungkook.. you know it was a big skill investigation rate. How did you even convince your department to close the case tell me what did you do.”

He looks at you and smiles

He’s made his choice.

“Okay fine I will tell you.”

The investigation was closing in, and with each passing day, the walls seemed to close in tighter around Jungkook. The blood—so carefully planted at Mina’s crime scene—was becoming a ticking time bomb, and the pressure to keep Y/N safe weighed heavily on him. His heart hammered in his chest every time the case came up in discussion, and he knew he had to take drastic measures.

He needed to shut it all down. Permanently.

That’s when it hit him: a recently discovered body in a nearby district. A woman—pregnant, recently deceased, and conveniently found under suspicious circumstances. She wasn’t the killer, but to Jungkook, she might as well have been. He could use her to frame the entire investigation.

When Jungkook visited the morgue that night, the body lay still on the cold steel table, a haunting reminder of the fragile line between life and death. The woman had died under mysterious circumstances, no clear motive, no clear suspect. And with her pregnancy, she was the perfect pawn.

Jungkook’s mind raced as he walked around the body, his eyes lingering on her swollen belly, her pale face, the indistinct bruises on her skin that told a story he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, the ghost of guilt flickering behind his thoughts. But there was no time for hesitation. He needed this body.

In his mind, he already had a plan.

He would stage the scene, make it look like this woman was the killer. He’d plant evidence that suggested the woman had been linked to Mina’s death—trace amounts of blood, a few fingerprints in the wrong places. A well-placed piece of clothing or object to tie her to the scene. It was risky, but it was the only way to close the case without implicating Y/N.

The morgue attendant, a sleepy-eyed man who didn’t seem to care much for the dead, handed him the body without question. Jungkook took a deep breath, making sure his hands didn’t shake. He carefully moved the body, knowing exactly what he needed to do.

Hours later, the police were called to a new crime scene. It was the same as always—an empty alleyway with the body of a woman found in a position that suggested something far darker than a random attack. The crime scene looked eerily similar to the previous murders, and that’s exactly what Jungkook had hoped for.

His mind worked quickly, placing the body of the pregnant woman at the scene as though she had been the one to kill Mina. The blood trail leading away from her. A few well-placed items. The evidence was there, but just subtle enough to make it believable.

The next day, Jungkook presented the findings to the department. His colleagues seemed to buy it without much question.

The body of the pregnant woman, found near the alley where Mina had been murdered, in her own home, was identified as the suspect. The evidence—though still sparse—was enough to back up the theory he had fabricated.

“I’ve spoken with forensics,” Jungkook said, standing tall as the room buzzed with suspicion. “The blood found near Mina’s body and the scene where this woman was found confirms our theory. This woman, whoever she was, was clearly involved. And she was pregnant, which explains her connection to the killer we’ve been hunting.”

The room fell silent, the officers looking at each other in confusion. But Jungkook pressed on, pushing the narrative with an authoritative tone.

“She was part of the criminal network, no doubt. This is why the killer used her. She was a pawn, an expendable figure, dragged into something much larger.”

“But with her death, we’ve finally identified her role. She’s the one we were after.”

Jungkook’s voice was steady, rehearsed, convincing. He wasn’t just presenting evidence; he was weaving the story.

One of the officers, a sharp-eyed veteran named Park, raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a skeptical look. “Are you sure, Jeon? This all seems… too neat. A little too perfect.”

Jungkook took a breath, pushing his doubts aside. “We have to tie it up. The evidence is there. It explains everything. And it leads us to believe that the killer is someone who knew how to manipulate the situation. A pregnant woman was used to distract us from the true killer.”

He met Park’s gaze, holding it long enough to send the message. There was no going back now. He had to make this work.

•••

After a lot of deliberation, and no further suspicions or clues, Jungkooks lie worked

But there were too many questions now. How far could he go before his lies caught up to him? Would the department ever suspect him, even if they’d closed the case?

And most importantly, how much longer could he keep this secret—his secret—hidden from everyone, especially from Y/N?

With the department’s approval, Jungkook walked away from the case, his mind heavy with the weight of the lies he’d told. But as whenever he looked at Y/N, the mother of his child, he knew that no matter what it took, he would do whatever it took to keep her from being discovered.

The announcement came in later that day: Case #178-C, the Seodaemun Serial Killings, officially closed.

The case was officially closed. The department was satisfied, the investigation wrapped up, and the media was ready to move on to the next headline. Jungkook, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was unraveling. He had used the body of a pregnant woman, a victim in her own right, to save Y/N—and his own conscience.

And now you two, will be together forever, and it will be your own heaven where no one will ever disturb you both and your growing family.

Everything is fair in love and war after to all

And this was both.

The love stored in his heart and the war of his own conscious, and eventually the love for you and his heart lawn over the war in his conscious.

“So you see, yn? Start packing your bags. You’re moving in with me and we’re gonna get married and have a child and live happily ever after.”

He stares at you with a lot of love in his eyes, but there’s something darker and you recognize it because it’s such a familiar look

A look that you often saw in your own mirror.

You kiss him again and smile against his lips.

You will do anything for him and you know now that he will also do anything for you.

Everything was worth it.

He was always worth it.

And he knows for a fact that you’re always gonna be worth it

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Celeste

FallenAngel!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader AU

summary: Heaven is not what they tell you. The celestials don’t live in harmony and the devil is not as far as you might think. He’s vicious in his ways to seduce every being - makes even the mighty fall from grace. And one of them happens to be your guardian angel. When James is banished from the heavens, he is forced to amend his sins on earth. What did he do wrong, you might ask? Well, he fell for the one he watched over.

a/n: I thought I’ve read a FallenAngel!Bucky fic on here before. But I couldn’t find it. So please, if you know it, tag me. Anyway, this is my take on the au.

word count: 20.3k (good lord, someone take my computer away)

warnings: this might offend some people (remember this is my fantasy world - I don’t know much about angels and the whole shebang), soulmate trope, the devil, also God?, jealousy/envy, mentions of killing and abuse, banishment and punishments, he falls first (literally lmao), fluff and wholesomeness, agony, angst (of course, with happy end!), smut (wingplay, Bucky‘s got heavenly dick, Virgin!Bucky, size kink, cum play) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ｡✭･ﾟ

all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)

James.

Wake up, James.

Wake up!

The wind hits his lashes before he opens his eyes. He’s falling. He’s falling and there’s nothing he can do. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s eerie outside, you note as your towel glides over the countertop. The entire window of the diner displays dark clouds. Dark clouds that will soon bring the heavy rain Old Lee has been mumbling about for days now. 

Not too many people believe what the crazy farmer says but you can’t help but notice how much he really understands of the world. 

Nick hits the little golden bell by the serving hatch and you take the fresh sandwiches to a table by the door. 

“Anything else I can get you?”

“We’re good, honey.”

You just nod as your eyes stay focused on the small parking lot outside. You wipe your hands on your apron and return to the counter when the first drop of rain hits the window pane.

❁ ❁ ❁

Branches are aching beneath his weight when he crashes through the trees. A deep thud echoes in the woods as his body hits the ground. It’s raining. 

Every tragedy needs rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

"Are you alright, dear?" Peggy, one of the regulars, a wise old lady, asks and points to your hand that's settled above your chest. 

You clear your throat. "I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat." You nod with a tight smile. Something seems to have knocked the air out of your lungs. But you've been feeling like you are coming down with something for a few days now. 

"Must be the weather," Howard comment's next to Peggy, and his newspaper crumbles beneath his touch. 

You turn and refill their coffee mugs. "Yeah... must be." But you can't shake the feeling it has brought to you. 

"It's always the weather." Peggy nods before the door to the diner opens and Old Lee enters, his muddy boots dirtying the checkered floors. You scrunch your nose. You'd be the one cleaning that up later, Scott surely won't do it. 

"This ain't a normal April storm, folks." His hat tips before he sits at the counter in front of you. "You look like you’ve been trampled by a cow.”

"It's just the weather," you say and place a cup of hot tea in front of him. That's just Stan: brutally honest and strangely right about everything. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Pain is strange. His feet get caught in the thorned bushes. Golden blood is the only evidence of his path.

And it’s slowly turning black.

❁ ❁ ❁

The storm outside intensifies, the rain hammering against the diner's windows with an unrelenting force. Old Lee's words linger in the air, stirring a sense of unease among the patrons. You glance outside, noticing the darkness creeping in as if it's swallowing everything in its path.

A shiver runs down your back as you remember how much Pietro would have loved this storm. Your mind drifts back to the memory of him. He always found solace in the chaos of nature, seeing beauty even in the fiercest storms.

But he's is gone now, lost to you in a way that is irreversible. The ache in your chest intensifies as you try to push away the memories, focusing instead on your tasks at hand.

Stan’s voice is low and gravelly when he murmurs again. "You can't outrun the storm, kid. It's coming for all of us, whether we're ready or not."

His words are chilling, but you shake it off, forcing a smile as you refill his tea. 

"We'll weather this storm just like we always do." Peggy chimes in as her hand lands on yours with her calming touch. But your heart is hammering in your chest, still. Something feels off. As if a piece fell out of place, waiting to be discovered, and raving to make a mess. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s cold and muddy here, no comfort in sight. But he’ll venture on until he reaches you. His soul is pulled to your very presence. 

He needs to find you. Needs to amend his wrongs. Though is it really wrong to love?

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s dark out when you hang your apron in your locker and wave a short goodbye to Nick. Pulling your coat tightly around you in an attempt to brace yourself for the wind, you step outside into the deluge. The rain lashes against your skin, soaking you to the bone on your walk through deserted streets and cold concrete. 

You sigh thinking about everyone that made it home dry, probably sitting in their beds right now, watching the rain roll down their window pane with a hot cup of cocoa in hand. 

But that seems to postpone itself, you realize as you abruptly halt. You look around. This isn’t your usual route home. But something pulled you off your intended path and toward an unfamiliar alleyway. Confusion mingles with a strange sense of anticipation as you find yourself drawn deeper into the darkness. 

Your head is screaming at you. This is dangerous. You shouldn’t be doing this. Why are your feet moving anyway?

And then you see it. Or rather... him?

A figure stands at the end of the alley, obscured by shadows and rain, but there's something about him that sets your heart racing.

"Hello?" you call out tentatively, your voice barely audible over the storm. You hate how weak you sound. 

He steps forward into the dim light, his features illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dark hair and a strong yaw, wide muscular shoulders, his arms are adorned by silver cuffs. His whole being is well over six feet. But he seems even taller as something wide reaches from behind him, almost hugging his shoulders and prodding up towards the sky. He steps forward again and your breath hitches in your throat when you can finally make out the grey feathery wings standing from behind his back.

But you don’t run. You don’t even stumble back. Your feet are frozen to the ground. Then his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze. 

“I’ve been searching for you,” he says, his voice almost like a whisper to the wind. Calling and marvelous. 

Everything inside you tells your how absurd this situation is. How fast you should be running anywhere but here right now. But the way your heart races doesn’t feel like fear. In fact, you’re not even scared. More fascinated, awestruck, intrigued. You know he wont hurt you. 

“I don’t know you.” You manage to stammer, your eyes still locked with his. The tension overwhelming and electrifying all at once.

“That should be obvious.” He points to his wings smiling amused, a smile that you know holds a universe of secrets and promises. You want to learn them all, you catch yourself thinking as your eyes slip to his lips. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand,” he replies and it’s the first time his wings move behind him. “Just trust that we are connected in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.”

“Well?” You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of your chest, relieved your body is able to move again, though the pose feels rather awkward. “Why are you here?”

He seems shocked for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to play along so fast. And, to be honest, neither did you... at least a little. 

“I need to...” His mouth falls shut again and he turns his head down to the side, shoulders heaving. “I guess I need a place to stay.”

“With me?” That’s insane. You know it is. But why does it not surprise you? 

He nods, you shake your head. “I cant just accommodate a...” You gesture to him and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Angel.”

“Right, of course.” You chuckle as you scan his body again. Only now do you see the torn clothes and bloody feet. Drenched through and through. 

You sigh. “I don’t even know your name...” 

His eyes are sparkling, the smallest of twitches making him look a little softer, tangible even. You’re not afraid of him. And it messes with your head. You should be scared, right? But all there is in your body is the steady tingle pinging from your heart back to your stomach. 

“It’s James.” His smile is handsome when he reaches out his hands, offering you a better look to his toned arms.

Whywhywhy? “Alright.” 

❁ ❁ ❁

James looks out of place in your rather small living room. His size dwarves every piece of furniture carefully picked out to make your house a home. He makes it look like a doll house just by standing in it. 

But he doesn’t seem to care. James ducks when he passes through the door and you watch his feathers ruffle as they press themselves to his back in order to fit through. 

You’re not sure what to do. Never in your life did you think you would end up in a situation like this. There is no protocol for hosting celestial beings. Though a how to angel dinner party guide would come in handy now. Did he even eat?

Something must be wrong with you. You let a total stranger into your house, even though your track record of people skills is not exactly the best. One that is borderline freakishly tall and has wings. Wings that look soft and beautiful. But strong and kind of intimidating as well. But why does he feel so safe?

“You’re staring.” James notes and a handsome grin spreads across his face. 

“I’m not really used to having angels in my house to be honest.” The sarcasm is dripping from your tone in subtle undertones. But James seems to enjoy it. “Why are you here? On earth... I mean.”

He stares at the ceiling and his wings sag a little. “I have a mission, dearest.” He tells and his eyes meet yours. They’re deep blue and stormy - just like the sky. You can see yourself falling lost in them. His presence is all-consuming, making you shiver. It reminds you that the both of you are drenched from the rain. A puddle has formed around your feet and James’s wings guide the water droplets to your hardwood floor in two perfect circles. His hair is curling at the ends, in the nape of his neck and the water is also running down his throat, pooling in the remains of his shirt. 

“What mission?”

“I cannot tell you yet.” 

You nod, even though you don’t understand. But you don’t want to pressure him. “Do you need a shower? Or... clean clothes?” The second you ask you feel stupid. It’s silly right? Why shouldn’t angels shower? 

Then again, the way he looks at you is one of surprise. “Yes, that would be good.” 

“Good. Yes.” With a sigh you flee through the hallway to your room in search for some clothes. 

❁ ❁ ❁

A shower. James is giddy. Human things have always excited him. He has been watching from the heavens for eons, never truly experienced them quite like this. But he’s intrigued. Especially when you offer them to him like he’s not an intruder in your life. 

If things were different, you would never know he even existed. But James is guilty of happiness that he gets to meet you in person. 

Up close, you’re even more perfect. You smell nice, your home feels cozier than anything he’s ever experienced, and your voice sounds just a sliver more comforting when its directed at him. 

He is smiling like a fool, standing in your living room - the one he knows by heart but so much more personal now. And when you return to him with a pile of grey cloth, his heart skips a beat. You bring him the familiar warmth that made him fall in the first place. But having you within an arm’s length makes all of it feel worth it. 

There is not an ounce of regret in him for being here.

Electricity shoots up his arm when you touch his hand. It’s cold and wet - he immediately vows to always keep you warm from now on - makes it his purpose to have you be comfortable for the rest of your life. 

You lead him to the bathroom, grinning sheepishly when you gesture toward your shower. 

“It might be a tight squeeze.” You point at the glass surrounding your bathtub. “But it’s all I can offer.”

“It will do just fine.” He reassures you. 

“I will leave you to it then.” James is confused.

“Are you not staying?”

“Sorry?”

“To help me.”

“Help you... shower?” There is hesitance in your tone, but James truly doesn’t know how to turn the thing on.

“Well, yes.”

“I...” Your eyes are big, staring up at him through surprise and nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude. Give you some privacy to- oh.”

His clothes are already on the floor. He knows this much. Shower is something one does naked. But you seem to be shocked when his whole body is revealed to you. Do you like it? James is sure he looks as close to a human as a person with wings can. So why are you still staring at his stomach?

His eyes catch yours as they move a little lower, your eyebrows raising just that much higher and a smirk places itself on his face. So, you do like what you see. He confirms silently. Not that he particularly knows why. He never noticed people by their bodies - only their soul, because that is the important thing - the one that never changes. 

And yours is the most enchanting of them all. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You watch as James sit’s down on the opposite end of the sofa. He’s declined every offer you have made for him to feel a little more welcome. But he seems content. His smile hasn’t left his lips ever since you led him to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but notice his body when he revealed it all  to you. It’s like every inch of him is carved by the gods. He looks soft in the right parts, strong enough not to be skinny with his height. And his male parts. Well, they look more than satisfactory. 

You felt like a pervert staring him up and down while he stood there with this kind of proud innocence to him, wondering if he understood how proud he could be of his looks. There is so much you don’t know about him. It’s not like you haven’t talked. 

You have. But he speaks in riddles. 

“You are staring again.” James notes and you immediately snap your head elsewhere. 

“I’m just figuring this situation out, I guess.”

He smiles encouragingly. “You can ask questions. I imagine you’ve been eager to know more.”

You exhale long, taking courage to look him in the eyes. “And you will answer all of them honestly?”

“Honestly, yes.” His teeth find his bottom lip and you squeeze your thighs together.  “I cannot promise to answer them all.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you think of the first thing you could ask him. Maybe you should get the most obvious one out of the way. Maybe you should ask him more about himself, though you’re not sure how personal he can get if he spent his entire life in heaven. You just assume there is too much to do to pursue actual hobbies and such. 

“Is there a God?”

“Starting with the light questions, I see.” You just look at him with intrigue. Already lining up all the other questions no-one else in this world has the opportunity to have answered. James sighs and then nods. “Yes, God exists.”

“Do you know God?”

He hesitates, his eyes fleeting to the end of the room and then back to you. “Yes.”

“Why did that answer take you so long?”

His jaw tenses and his eyes find the floor as if he was cursing himself for offering this situation. But then again, you haven’t heard him cuss once. Maybe you’re wrong. “It was under rather... unfortunate circumstances.” 

You nod as if you understand. But you can only imagine. “So, he’s like the big boss, only getting involved when things escalate?”

James looks caught, his wings draw in closer. After a moment, he clears his throat and his feathers ruffle with a small shake. “First of all, it’s she/they. And second, ... I guess you could say that, yes.”

“I knew it.” You grin as the pride washes over you at this information. “Why did she never correct us?”

“Let’s just say mankind doesn’t have a great track record of enforcing things that go against their believe... Not that it would be believable if someone told the story of meeting an angel who told them God is a woman.”

“Fair point. That person would have probably been burnt alive.” You nod again, crossing your legs and turning to him on the sofa. James takes a moment to rake his eyes over your body, making you feel tingles all over. You clear your throat. “Speaking of torture... Why do we have war and world hunger?”

“Please do not take this the wrong way. Those are issues that very much concern God or anyone that want’s the best for her people, but she’s busy. She manages everything else that has gone south since.”

“Since what?” You partly enjoy the way James talks to you as if you are an insider, but you only understand half of what he’s saying. 

“Since she and Lucifer had a big fallout.” He shrugs, but it just adds to your confusion.

“I’m not following.”

He rolls his eyes as if it were your fault you don’t know about this supernatural fight. “They had a disagreement. Lucifer’s response to God’s proposal was an ill-conceived frivolity which ended up becoming the patriarchy.” 

To say you’re stunned is a serious understatement. “You’re telling me the devil threw a tamper tantrum and that’s why we have inequality? How did he even do that?”

James shakes his head. “...Yes. The trial is still in progress. But it may be calming to know that we have not figured out exactly how he convinced an entire species of males being the stronger part of it.”

“No, James. It is not calming to know.” You sigh and watch as he clasps his hands in his lap, his cuffs glistening in the lamplight. God, they’re big. You immediately scold yourself for thinking this, feeling weirds as the words of your mother echo in your head ‘Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain’. “What exactly has God done since then?”

The smile returns to his face and you readjust yourself on the sofa. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know how this world would look if she hadn’t kept busy with sorting it.”

Your nose wrinkles in a frown, as you check the points off in your head. “I really don’t think it can get that much worse. Climate change, mass genocides, what else could there be?” You nod at each one just as James lifts up his fingers and opens his mouth as if he is starting to count. 

But you stop him. “Please don’t.”

“Yes, that is probably for the best.”

It is silent for a moment as you try to process all the information you have just attained. It is a rather weird feeling. Knowing you know what no-one else on earth does and not being able to tell. Knowing there will be no-one believing you. 

You sigh when your head starts spinning from how crazy this day has been. James seems to be rather relaxed considering he barely knows you. His dark hair falls around his face perfectly, the back of it forming a cute curl in the nape of his neck and your fingers itch to touch it.

But you refrain, reminding yourself that he is a stranger - and an angel. Beside the fact that he has not once reached out to you, just randomly touching his hair would probably be the weirdest thing to do right now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly breaks the silence and you shoot a thank you to the sky for saving yourself from going down the mental rabbit hole of how soft his hair looks. 

“Yes.”

“Why did you take me in?” James’s eyes are boring into yours so innocently. If it weren’t for the giant wings on his back, he would almost look like a normal clueless and incredibly cute guy. And yet he just revealed outerworldly gossip as if you were discussing the latest celebrity TMZ. 

“I-“ you trail off, thinking about it for a while. You aren’t sure how much you can tell him. But James has been genuine from the start. It wold only be fair to do the same. “I felt like you needed me.”

A weird feeling takes over your body suddenly. Like a warm flush rushing through you. James fidgets in your peripheral and nods in understanding. “I did. I do.”

It’s like the reality of it all hits you like brick when a noise sounds from outside and his wings twitch, pushing over a pile of books on the cupboard behind the sofa. This is not normal, something tells you, and yet your stomach flutters in a way that feels a lot like butterflies. Everything about James is fascinating to you. You constantly fight the urge to reach out and brush your fingertips over every part of him. And for some reason, your mind tries to tell you that he would let you. 

“Why are you really here, James?” You voice is only a whisper when the rattling outside subsides. It’s probably a raccoon or something. But James looks a little nervous all of a sudden. 

“I’m afraid that is one thing I cannot tell you, love.”

You sigh. “I guess... I just want to help. Having you stay here doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There has got to be something you need to do.”

“That is very kind of you. I admire your bravery and openness.” His lips spread into a smile, his hand lifting from his lap as if he is about to place it on yours, but his fingers only strech and land back on the sofa between you. “But to be truthful, even if I knew what I had to do, I am not sure wether I would do it or not”

So he is a little deviant. You smile at the small observation. Maybe it’s the reason he is here in the first place. But you feel like you have asked James enough for tonight. Just on cue, a yawn escapes your lips. 

“You should rest. It has been a long day.” 

You nod, rubbing your eyes and rising from the soft cushions. “I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there.”

“That is fine. I do not sleep.” James shakes his head as he rises with you out of curtesy. With his hands clasped in front of him he looks like a goth painting. 

“What? Never?”

“I am not human, dearest. My body attains energy in different ways.” You shudder again, blaming it on your sleepiness as you rub your arms when another yawn escapes you. 

“Maybe you can tell me about it tomorrow. I am really tired.”

“I will be watching over you.” Your name passes his lips like a song, sending another shiver through you. What the hell is the matter with you. You huff as you catch yourself again. It really never occurred to you how often you referenced to the supernatural... “Take all the rest you can get.”

“Good night, James.” You nod and wave awkwardly.

“Good night.”

You know James’s eyes are only you until you disappear into the hallway. But you cant help but feel safely watched over with him around. 

❁ ❁ ❁

They will find him, and they will send him further from you than he ever was.

❁ ❁ ❁

James hates the days you have to leave for work. He watches you with a sense of longing and resignation, knowing that he must find a way to navigate this separation once again. Though it is necessary he find a way to dodge the inevitable.

It’s the vexing thing about the celestial kingdom. They always leave one to find the laws on their journey. There is no book he could read on earth that could help him here. But he has seen the repercussions of disobedience, felt the weight of his transgressions bearing down on him like a heavy chain.

And yet, as he watches you prepare to leave for work, a sense of desperation gnaws at him from within. He wants to reach out, to beg you to stay, to keep you safe from whatever dangers may lurk beyond the safety of your home.

But he knows he can't. He's bound by duty, by the laws of God that dictate his every move. And so, with a heavy heart, he watches silently as you gather your things and head out the door, leaving him alone once more.

As the door closes behind you, James is left with nothing but the echoes of your footsteps fading into the distance. He knows he should use this time wisely, to prepare for whatever trials may lie ahead, but his thoughts are consumed by you, by the overwhelming need to protect you at all costs.

❁ ❁ ❁

There’s and angel in your home. And he’s so freaking attractive, it’s unfair. 

It has been a week since you found James. And despite the incredibly irrational decisions of yours to invite him into your home, nothing bad has happened to you. Sure, the first night you might have dreamt about him. He’s everything your fantasy books described an more. And you couldn’t help but let that tiny romantic sliver of you hope for the more. 

But James is more pious than any catholic boarding school kid you’ve ever met. 

He seems to enjoy a good joke and he’s quite confident. But he never once touched you. And while that should not be one of your first concerns, considering he’s a stranger and an angel, something inside you tells you he’s holding back. 

He never even flinches when you reach out to him. And the longing stares he sends your way make you shiver with anticipation. Yet there is no attempt to ever pull you in - even though you are so sure you were sending signals. 

Maybe there are no signals in heaven. What are you even saying? Of course there are no signals in heaven. You don’t even believe dating exists up there. 

“Yo, whaddup with ya today? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute.”

“Sorry. Feeling a little off today,” you mumble to Nick and retrieve the food waiting in the serving hatch. 

“You can’t go home. I don’t wanna serve alone today.”

“Scott, there’s literally no-one here.” You gesture toward the few people sitting in their booths and sigh. “Besides, I never said I was going home.” 

“Don’t get mad. You barely texted me back this week. What’s so awesome about your home when I’m not there with you?” You feel the heat rising to your head at Scott’s comment. “You’d think she’d call me if she ever needed to hide something.” He mumbles to Nick who just laughs and flips a pancake. 

You turn to him with your fists by your side. “The weather is weird and cold, can’t I need a little down time?”

“Not from me!” Scott looks baffled. He’s your friend, and yes, you had other things to worry about than be on your phone this week. But you also knew he wouldn’t understand.

“You’re being a real pain in my ass today, Scotty.”

“Good, so everything’s back to normal then.”

You throw a towel in his face. “Shut up.”

“Cut it out, you two, there’s customers.”

Scott resumes to the back, effectively dodging his work and leaving you to serve the new customer. But your breath hitches in your throat when you look up from the counter.

James is standing in the door, already drawing looks of attention from a few people. He’s smiling back at them, even waving at a child before his eyes meet yours and your heart sets off again. It seems to always do that when he’s close. 

You rush toward him, wrapping your fingers around his cuffed wrist and he audibly exhales. 

“You can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“Because-“ you lean in closer and James bows down to get his face to your level. “You’re and angel.” You mutter under your breath and the sexy smile returns to his perfect lips. 

“And how would they know that?” His eyebrow raises. 

“You-“ you lean back, examining his shoulders - only then noticing that his wings are not there anymore. “How?”

“I only show myself to truly important people.” He winks and you stumble back a little, his sudden boldness making your legs feel like jello. 

“What are you doing here?” 

James looks around the diner as though he has not planned this far. His eyes swerve to the counter and then back to you. “I want to watch you work. I enjoy spending time with you.”

“But you can’t be here without ordering.”

“Then I will oder.”

“You don’t eat, James. Do you even have money?”

That seems to surprise him. “No.” You shake your head and look at the tiled floor. James’s wrist is still wrapped in your hand but there is no attempt to hold you. So you drop it. Why did he even come here when he won’t touch you?

“Please, beautiful. Let me stay.” His eyes are genuine, his lips purse in a plea. All you can think about is how weirdly lucky you are that this Adonis of a being chose you for his quest. 

You bite your lip and watch him shudder. “Alright. Just sit by the counter and try to be inconspicuous.”

His smile spreads wide. “I’ll be as invisible as the air you breathe.��

You exhale and get back to work but unfortunately, his promise doesn’t last long. Before you know it, Peggy has chosen the seat right beside James. She’s leaning over to him at the counter and Howard just sits beside them with his newspaper in hand - as always. James seems just as invested in the conversation as Peggy and as you steal glances over to the pair of them, insistently hoping he won’t spill about his identity, you catch James’s eyes lingering on you. 

“You are a fine young man, James.” Peggy's hand lands on his, tapping it in a grandmotherly manor, though her eyes are glinting with something akin to longing. She whispers something into his ear you cant make out and James’s eyes shoot to yours, his face tinting rouge from one ear to the other. 

“And you are a remarkable lady, Peggy,” he clears his throat, his mind seemingly wandering elsewhere. “You remind me of a girl a friend of mine was in love with once.”

“Then he must have been the happiest man to ever live.”

Peggy’s hands tremble when she reaches for her cup of tea, her red lipstick taint the white porcelain as James watches her movements with a soft stare. He looks so protective of her, it makes your insides tingle. “He truly is, though he seems like he has forgotten about it lately. Is this your husband?” He gestures to Howard, who just slams the newspaper down in front of him, blank eyes staring at James while Peggy laughs and waves her hand dismissively. 

“This rascal?” She presses her hand to her chest as she tries to calm down. “No, dear. My husband died a long tome ago.” She smiles warmly, floating in melancholy when she continues, “I never loved another man since. He was a heaven sent. Strong, kind, always worked towards the greater good... and his looks were to die for, too.” She winks and James chuckles. 

“Oh I wish a love like that to everyone. Promise me something, James.” 

“Anything.”

“If your find it, never let it go.” Her hand clasps around his biceps, her tone a motherly sternness laced with affection. 

James eyes you again and it feels as if the air is shifting with tension. “My word is in God’s name, Peggy.”

❁ ❁ ❁

James feels the repercussions of his being on earth stronger every day. In heaven, he was miserable because he had to watch you live your life without him. On earth, he’s in agony because he knows, if he ever were to touch you, he would cease to exist.

It’s slanted. He gave up everything coming here and despite the fact that his wings stopped working the second he fell from the sky, he categorizes the uncertainty eating away at him as even worse. Hanging in limbo is more troubling than actually going to hell, he is sure of it. 

He watches you move about your house with the same longing look torturing his features since he realized how much he needed you. It’s laughable how dependent on you he has become. While you go about your life with the minor change of having a roommate, James despises the unforgeable distance heaven has created between you. 

You are friendly with him - you are friendly with everyone. James would even go as far as to say that you two are friends by now. But he wants so much more. So much more he cant tell you because even if you did know about his feelings, there is nothing either of you could do about it. 

James sighs standing from the sofa, ducking his head when he passes through the doorway to you. You never questions when he just follows you around. The soul bond probably keeping the curiosity at bay if it feels anything like his experience. It feels good for no explicit reason. 

You sort some bowls in your cabinet as he stands behind you, offering to place the ones higher up so you don’t have to struggle too much. “What’s heaven like, James?” You ask innocently through your movements. “Are there pearly gates and fluffy clouds?”

James loves when you say his name. It makes him feel closer to you than ever before. In a way, he equates it with your touch. Just as his saying your name is his way of reaching out to you. 

“More like endless paperwork and celestial coffee breaks.” Coffee breaks. He learned about those a while ago and he loves the concept. “But hey, the views are to die for.” He gets lost in your eyes, remembering how much more distant they felt when he was watching from above and he is thankful to be this close to you now.

You smile smugly, and thats when the heart race sets in again. He’s sure you feel it too. Because your eyes avert and your hand places itself atop your chest. 

You think something is wrong with you, he just knows it. It’s like the time you watched hours on hours of Gray’s Anatomy and then proceeded to research yourself into a frenzy about the sicknesses you might suffer. But James made sure then that there was not even a paper cut compromising you and he will do the same now, too.

He is desperate to tell you what it is you feel, that there is not much you can do and that he feels it ten times worse because he hates to see you suffer. But he needs to be careful about how much he reveals to you. 

“Oh my god, I’m getting paranoid,” you mutter to yourself and James smirks at your small slip up. He has noticed how you try to minimize your references in curses. It’s cute, really, because he knows how much you used to do it. It’s a little bit amusing, the small deviant trait of yours making him feel like he has found something in common with you and he’s almost proud of it.

You collect yourself, quickly, breathing in deeply and then turning around to him. “I have to run some errands today.” 

“Great, where are we going?” James asks with eagerness. Car rides excite him. He has always found them fascinating, but actually being in one is a whole new experience. 

You bite your lip and for once, James does not feel the familiar tingle in his stomach when you do so. There is sadness sitting in your eyes when you answer him. “Actually...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lip just for your teeth to dig into it again and an unfamiliar tightness travels through James’s body. “It is something I need to do by myself today. I hope that is okay.”

The angel nods vigorously, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “Yes of course. I will leave you to it alone.” He steadies himself on the door frame and then heads to the living room where he grabs a book and settles on your window sill to look occupied. 

“It is nothing personal, James.” Your head dips from the doorway and he looks up. “It's just... it would be weird for you to be there.”

“I understand.” The way he adds your name to his answer makes him sick. But his body is feeling weird, not showing him the familiar signs of jealousy or anger he knows. It feels... warm and uncomfortable. 

“I will be back soon.” Your voice travels through the hallway and your footsteps along with it. James stares at the empty doorway for a while, his eyes shooting down to the book when you suddenly reappear. “Do you want anything from the store?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay.”

And then the door falls shut. But before James can get consumed by his loneliness, he puts the books down - something about an ice breaker - and heads outside to follow you. 

❁ ❁ ❁

But earth can be a lonely place. At least hell will welcome you with warmth.

❁ ❁ ❁

You didn’t lie. You were at the store. But now that you’re treading on the small path towards the grey cemetery walls, James feels the fear spread through his body like a slow and painful death. 

He’s hiding behind the trees closing around the park, watching you as you halt before a simple headstone. He can feel your mourning deep within his heart, tugging, yanking, pulling on the tiny strings that sting so effectively. His temple leans against the rough bark as his eyes trace your slow movements. You place a small bouquet of flowers on the soil before the engraved letters, resting your forehead on the gold stone. 

He can’t see it completely, but he knows you’re crying. You always do. Everything within him screams to reach out to you, to hold you and sway you until the world feels less taunting, but he knows how difficult it could make things. 

So, instead, he remains hidden, a silent sentinel in the shadows bearing witness to your sorrow from afar. He feels the weight of your tears as if they were his own, each drop a dagger to his soul and a reminder of the distance that separates him from you. 

And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there is a flicker of something else - resilience, determination, a quiet strength that refuses to be extinguished. It’s a testament to your spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you both. 

As you linger before the headstone, lost in your memories and your grief, James feels a surge of admiration swell within him. Despite the pain you carry, you continue to preserve. 

“It’s really a shame you never have the balls to comfort her.” A voice whispers in his ear and James shoots around to be met with a redhead whose eyes stare daringly up at him. “Then again... I guess it would be kind of ironic, don’t you think?” 

“What are you doing here, Wanda?” All angels are made weary of Lucifer’s spawn. They are vicious and manipulating, carrying the pits of hell to places that least expect them and watch it all go up in flames as they stand laughing on the sidelines. 

James knows the demon standing before him. More than once have their paths crossed throughout time, but he is surprised to see her every time anew. He refuses to show any sign of weakness in her presence, knowing that to do so would only invite further manipulation.

Wanda chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing through the trees. “Oh, nothing much,” she muses with a wicked grin, pacing around James to take a closer look at him. “Just though I’d remind you of what you’re missing out on by playing the good little guardian angel. But who knows... maybe one of these days, you’ll finally grow a spine and take what you want.”

James clenches his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Wanda’s relentless provocation. He knows better than to let her under his skin, but the demon’s words cut deep, striking at the heart of his insecurities. He feels the surge of frustration rising within him as his fists clench by his sides, the weight of his silver cuffs pressing against his wrists like chains. “I can’t,” he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t”

Wanda’s gaze narrows as her arms cross in front of her chest. “Can’t or won’t?” She counters, her voice tingling with an unspoken dare. 

James hesitates, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I... I don't know," he admits finally. "But it doesn't matter. My duty lies with heaven, with protecting her. I can’t do that when I’m lost in the in-between.”

Wanda's eyes glitter with amusement as she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them with an unnerving grace. "And what if heaven isn't where you belong?" she whispers in a seductive purr as her fingers flick against his cuffs. The sound travels through the trees, making you turn and look around you. "What if your heart longs for something more, something... forbidden?"

A shiver runs down his spine, a sudden realization dawning within James. For so long, he has clung to the safety of his celestial duties, fearing the consequences of straying from the path laid out before him. But now, as he stands face to face with the embodiment of temptation itself again, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heaven is not the place where he can truly flourish. 

“I don’t trust you, Wanda.” He admits genuinely, though the possibility of her words holding truth gnaws on his very soul.

“You shouldn’t.” She smirks devilishly, eyes flashing in a short glimmer of red and evil. “There will be consequences to disobeying celestial rules. But you will never find out if a life free of them would be more fulfilling to you if you don’t try.” She winks, setting uncertainty free within him. “Find me when you have made the right choice.”

As he watches Wanda disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with his thoughts, James knows that he is standing at a crossroads—one that would determine the course of his destiny for eternity. And though the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril, he can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him, a whisper of possibility that promises a future filled with love, and happiness, and the chance to finally be as close to you as he has always wished for.

❁ ❁ ❁

The night has broken over your small town by now. James has made it back with a conflicted heart before you came home from your errands. He knows you notice his silence as he normally enjoys to talk a lot to you. But you don’t say anything. 

He is just sitting quietly in the kitchen as he watches you make a cup of tea, wondering what it tastes like right before frowning at how scared he is to try a cup of hot water just because he doesn’t know what it would do to him. 

Wanda’s words come back to the forefront of his mind and the unease she instilled within his heart right alongside it. He has been longing to reach out to you for so long, has wanted to touch and comfort you in so many ways his mind began to spin. Especially after days like this, when you went to visit your brother’s grave. You would be crying yourself to sleep tonight. And you would get up tomorrow, wipe the sorrow from your eyes and continue to live your life as if nothing happened. Because you are strong and resilient. 

And James, even though he is finally present, is not able to offer you the solace you so desperately deserve. 

At least he thought so.

His eyes wander to the silver cuffs around his arms, feeling the weight and letting the subtle clink of them seep into his skull. He has never questioned why or how the rules of heaven applied to him. He never even thought about the consequences of breaking them until he felt the need to protect you. He never really cared until you became the most important thing in his life. 

Now, seeing the pain in your gaze, and feeling the guilt for being here, not soothing you gnaws on him, sending him back to a state in which he would kill to see you smile again. Free of fear and sorrow. 

You bite your lip when you settle on the chair across from his. Your eyes look dull, but James can’t help but think there is a question posed within them. Something desperate and restricted. Oh, how he would love to know what you’re trying to say. He is just too inexperienced with human interaction that he can get a read on everything just yet. 

James feels his heart picking up, knowing it beats in the same rhythm as yours, but he doesn’t dare speak, knowing his voice will betray him. Your tea cup is empty, your eyes tired, and he knows that this evening with you will end within seconds. 

“Good night, James.” You finally say, following the small ritual you have established with him as you wave at him weakly. 

Normally, he says it back. Normally, he guides you to the bedroom and closes your door promising to watch over you in silence. Normally, he doesn’t have a demon’s words ringing in his ears. 

But today, something feels different. As you gather your things and head towards your bedroom, a sudden surge of determination courses through him. He can't bear the thought of being separated from you, even for a moment longer.

With a sense of reckless abandon, and the words of Wanda hanging in his mind James makes a daring decision. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his every being, he reaches out to you, his touch barely grazing your shoulder as you turn to leave.

In that fleeting moment of contact, something shifts. A spark ignites between you, a connection so powerful and undeniable that it defies explanation. Time seems to slow as you both freeze, caught in the throes of a bond that transcends the boundaries of heaven and earth.

For a heartbeat, everything hangs in the balance, the air crackling with electricity. And then ...nothing happens. 

There is no rush of wind and light that makes him disappear, leaving behind only the echo of his presence lingering in the empty space between. There is nothing else welcoming him in wrath or absolute nothingness or whatever is supposed to happen if a celestial ever dared to touch a mortal.

He opens his eyes that he had shut tight without noticing. And you’re still here. In front of him, staring at his hand that is softly wrapped around your wrist. His mind is struggling to make sense of what just happened - or rather what didn’t. It was all a hoax. 

James feels rage bubble within him. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet stillness of the room, touching. He counts yet another reason why heaven was never where he belonged.

A single tear rolls down his cheek when he pulls you into his body and wraps his arm around you tightly. His heart beats violently, pumping the anger of knowing how much time he wasted not being close to you through his body. His wings follow close behind, sealing you into his warmth and creating a space just for you and him. It’s as if you are made for him. Your body tugs perfectly beneath his feathery white wings and he knows he’ll hold you like this for eternity. 

❁ ❁ ❁

He’s touching you. 

James is touching you. No, actually, he’s consuming you with his whole being, pulling you into the best hug you have ever received. His wings wrap around you protectively, engulfing you into his scent entirely. It’s earthy, and clean, and... heavenly. 

You chuckle slightly as your cheek presses to his chest, your head barely reaching his collar bone, but it just makes you feel enclosed by his presence from all around. You heart beats just as rapidly as his and you exhale in content as you realize that you’re not the only one feeling this connection. 

You don’t know what changed. Maybe you are not as good as hiding your sadness as you think you are. Or maybe there is a whole other reason behind this angel guarding you into the most loving hug you have ever experienced. But fact is, you needed it today more than ever. 

And James knew ...because he strangely knows so much about you. He feels familiar without trying and it is a weirdly comforting thing to experience. Especially after all you have been through. 

Hesitantly, and almost sorrowfully, you pull away from his warm chest. His wings loosen around you, his arms leaving just enough space for you to lean back and stare into those azure blue eyes of his. He’s beautiful up close. Long lashes frame his loving stare as his mouth tugs into a smile, taking yours right with it. 

“You touched me.” You say in awe as James’s eyebrows slightly raise. “You thought I didn’t notice, but I did.” 

There is a steak silence as his gaze travels over your face then roams his arms that are still holding you tightly close to him. “Should I not be touching you?” He asks carefully.

You can feel his hands retreating but you pull him right in before they’re gone. “I was just wondering when you would.” You snuggle back into his shirt and his hands cradle your head to him. “Is it embarrassing to say I’ve wanted you to do it for a while now?”

“Not embarrassing at all.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle. “I’ve wanted to do it even before then. I just didn’t know if I could.” The last part is a mere whisper that dissipates in your hair when his mouth presses to it in a feather light brush. 

A rush of warmth floods through you, filling every corner of your being with a sense of belonging you've never known before. Time seems to stand still, the world falling away until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in each other's arms.

"You've wanted to touch me?" you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them, a confession born of the unspoken longing that has lingered between you for far too long.

James's gaze softens, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of your cheek as he meets your eyes with a look of quiet intensity. "More than you could ever know," he replies. "But I feared the consequences.”

“What consequences?” James shakes his head as his thumb still lingers on your skin. 

“I don’t know.” You reach up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you search his eyes again. It was stupid of you to assume he didn’t touch you because he didn’t like you. He was probably scared of what would happen if angels ever dared. The look in his deep blues tells you how worried he was. How long he withheld for the sake of dodging the unknown. 

“It’s not bad, is it?” You hand travels across his chest, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. “Touching.” 

James's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest as he gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and reverence. And once again, you would love to know what is happening inside his brain. 

With a trembling hand, James cups your face in his palm, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. You cant help but feel that there is something keeping him from you, still. 

“Let me stay with you tonight, my beloved.” His fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly. “Let me hold you and keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” You ask in a trance as your fingers bury in his hair and you play with the thought of pressing your lips to his. But he has taken so long to hug you. You don’t want him to be overwhelmed. 

“Anything.” He whispers back and closes his eyes. A whole new warmth consumes you when his words seep in, blanketing you in cherish and admiration. If this is what being appreciated feels like, you will fight to keep the feeling forever. 

“Okay.”

❁ ❁ ❁

Oh how much the celestials have lied. Flying is nothing compared to this. 

❁ ❁ ❁

As you bustle about the diner, taking orders and refilling coffee mugs with practiced ease, Peggy sits at her usual spot at the counter, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watches you work.

"Something on your mind, Peggy?" you ask with a smile, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of a hungry customer.

Peggy leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I couldn't help but notice that smile of yours, dear," she says with a knowing wink. "It's positively radiant today. Dare I say, it's almost as if you've got a secret?"

You chuckle, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks at her observation. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you reply coyly, unable to suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of your lips as you tab your finger against them. “What makes you think I’d share it with you?”

“Well, I am a loyal customer for one...” She pauses as she thinks of another point. “And I am old enough to think the secret dies with me." Peggy presses, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Please, you know the entire town.” You laugh and Peggy waves her hand dismissively, though there is a proud smirk on her red lips. 

Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What's all this about smiles and secrets?”

You turn to see Old Lee leaning against the counter with a grim expression. His worn-down straw hat flops over his eyes, making him look even more grumpy than usual.

"It's nothing, Stan," you reply, trying to defuse the tension with a forced smile. "Just some friendly banter."

Old Lee’s eyes narrow slightly. "Friendly banter, huh? You're squawking like a bunch of chickens in a henhouse."

Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Stan's attitude. "Oh, hush up, Stan," she scolds, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "Can't you see we're having a moment here? This is girl talk. Go and drink your tea like the grumpy old man you are.”

Old Lee shakes his head in response but wisely chooses to turn back to his drink. “We all know how the last time she came in here with a smile that big turned out.” Old Lee grumbles searching your eyes once more. “The frogs're telling me we’ll have another rain comin’ soon. You better be careful, sweetheart.”

You share a conspiratorial look with Peggy, either of you not sure wether to believe him or not. Stan is not one for sappy love stories, but he certainly hits the nail on the head with his predictions every time. His bold hint towards the last big death this town suffered glides off his tongue like a Sunday prayer and it ripples down your spine in ice-cold peaks. 

“That is in the past. Right now, I really am hoping we are talking about the charming gentleman I talked to the other week. He certainly is a sight for sore eyes.” Peggy’s eyes sparkle as Old Lee huffs into his cup.

She winks back at you and the smile returns to your lips, along with the giddy feeling you get when James is called into your mind. But before you can respond, the diner door swings open, signaling the arrival of another customer and putting an end to your conversation—for now, at least.

❁ ❁ ❁

A noise calls from the back of your house right before the sun starts its journey in the sky. You don’t wake as James tries to stir carefully with his arms still holding you tightly. He was not sleeping - he doesn’t need sleep, but he still feels groggy from the warm and comforting night being ripped away with the sound. 

It piques another time and now, James is sure, someone is trying to get inside. Within minutes he is out of bed, checking the window and then closing the door to your bedroom on his way to the back. 

He is ready to protect you at all costs, eager to show you how much you mean to him, but when he sees a touch of white beyond the window and hears the familiar rustling of feathers that accompany it, it only takes him a second to realize who has come to intrude your peace. 

Two men - angels - just as tall has James litter the kitchen once he opens the door and pulls them inside with both hands. Samuel, the one standing a little to the side, brushes his clothes off once he comes to a stand again, watching James with amusement and curiosity. “I see you haven’t changed much, James. A simple ‘hello’ would have been just fine.” He crosses his arms before his chest, his wings shaking the dowry rain from their feathers and right onto your kitchen floor. 

“Why are you here?” His eyes search those of Steven - a friend of his but also an angel ranking higher than James ever will.

“You know why we’re here.” He steps closer once he has composed himself again. “You are testing the heavens.” 

James huffs, feeling the anger rise inside him. If anything, heaven was testing him. So he goes on to ignore the blonde angel before him, willing his heart to calm at all the frustration accumulating at once. “Did you know it was a lie?” James starts instead. His voice is strained when he thinks of all the times he refrained from touching you just to keep you safe. “Just a way to keep us from initiating contact?” 

Steven doesn’t say anything and Samuel’s stare meets that of James again. Steven shows little remorse, the pride on display now more than usual. The supposed betrayal James has caused is nothing to the sting boring into his soul by the very man standing in font of him. Steven is cold, distant - when he should be a friend.

“I should have known.” James shakes his head. “Your duties have always placed higher than your friendships.”

“That is because duties are the most valuable virtue God can give.” Steven finally says and his jaw ticks angrily. 

James could never imagine being more loyal to a system placing as many restrains as heaven does. Not when he knows how good the real world can feel. How precious it is to smell flowers and hold the one you love in your arms well into the night. 

“You came here with a mission, James. And since your fall, you have done nothing but frolic throughout this place with your very own human.” Samuel is eerily still behind the broad blonde spitting one accusation after the other. But James decides not to comment on it just yet. 

“It is far more than that,” he rasps feeling the protectiveness flood his body. 

“We know. That is why you are here in the first place.” 

“What am I supposed to do, Steven?” James tries to keep his voice low, but his frustration is too great. Steven should be the one to understand better than anyone else. But he seems to have locked that part of him far away right now. “How can I amend a sin that is irreversible?!”

“Every sin can be amen-“ Steve’s eyebrows raise and Samuel’s eyes flickers from James and focuse behind him. That is when his heart beat picks up again. And as much as he loves you, he wishes with all his being that you are not standing behind him right now.

“Please, no.” He mutters and turns just to have you approach from the hallway with tired eyes. 

“What is happening? Who are you?” Your voice sounds sleepy, a hand rubbing over your face before you find yourself by James’s side.

“Angels.” He bites his lips, contemplating for a moment but deciding that you deserve to hear what is happening in your own home. A home he hopes to be part of forever. Besides, with Steven here, there is no ending this conversation without confusing you more. “They want me to abandon you.” The bitterness is evident in his tone. But he regrets it as soon as he catches the stutter in your heart.

“What?” It’s all you say, but the way you do breaks his collected facade. 

“James-“

“What do I have to loose, Steven?” his arms open wide. "They already cast me out. They took my freedom, they took it all.” His wings barely shake, just emphasizing his statement. 

Steve steps closer, causing you to slightly shove yourself behind James, his arm reaching around you, just not touching yet. ”But there is still a chance to redeem yourself.”

“What if I don’t want it?” James bites back. 

“Don’t act rash, James. Think about this.“

“I have.” Long and hard. Every night he holds you, he has enough time to do so. And he has come to the conclusion that nothing compares to having you this close to him... and only him.

“You know of the punishment placed for sinners who do not attempt to right their wrongs.” Steven is seething beneath the surface, James can tell. But he tries to stay professional. He can try all he wants. James has already made a decision. 

“What is he talking about?” Your voice takes him back to your presence. Your hands sneak around his forearm and hand, to which his body responds like a reflex. His fingers squeeze yours, his body seeks the heat of yours. Samuel looks at the interaction curiously, Steven settles for a disapproving taunt.

“I lose my wings. I lose heaven.” James explains to you, watching as your eyes open wider in shock. 

“What?” There is so much more behind your astound answer. What does this mean for us?

“James is banished from the heavens temporarily already.” Steven’s voice drips with authority, making you stiffen beside him. James hates it. And he doesn’t hate much. 

“Why?” You’re too soft for this, too fragile to take another betrayal so soon. He has just gotten started and he already feels you drifting away. Your eyes are glassy when you turn to Steven. “What could have possibly been so bad that you ended up here?” 

“You didn’t tell her?” Sam breaks his silence. The surprise is written all over his face just to be replaced by confusion when James utters his name in warning. 

“Tell me.” It seems as though his eyes switch between everyone in the room, trying to warn them all of what will happen if they take his opportunity of telling you himself.

“James is not just any angel.”

“Steve, stop it.” 

“He is your guardian angel.”

It all happens too fast. A look to Samuel tells him there is no ending this. Steven won’t stop until he has tried his all to have you turn from James. 

“And he committed the worst sin of them all.” You look shocked and expectant. The grip on James’s hands grows tighter with every syllable leaving Steven’s mouth. And James is silently cursing the angel in front of him “He killed a man... for you.” 

You stumble back and James catches you only to earn a warning glare from Steven and Samuel. 

“Brock,” you whisper and it sounds like the single word has taken the entire air out of your system.

Lighting brightens your house over the stifled morning gleam and thunder sounds dangerously in the distance. You’re flinching, though searching James’s eyes as he steadies you back on your feet. 

“You cant do this forever, James.”

“And what if I try?” He turns fully. “What if I would rather get myself killed than come back to heaven?”

“He wouldn’t” Steve is heaving, but Sam steps forward, Laying a hand on the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe his rage. “The soul bond affects her just as it does him.”

“What does that mean?” It’s barely a screech when you interrupt them again. Turning to James and tugging at his shirt, you convey the frustration of being kept in the dark through your features. “What does it mean, James?”

He sighs, shaking his head and then closing his eyes - hoping to escape this conversation. But it is happening. “It means, if I die... you will die, too. A soul need replace that of a guardian one.”

At this point, James questions his sanity. How could he have not realized the twisted ways of the celestial realm sooner? In an attempt to soothe both his aching head and your tired soul, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but your hands swat his arms away.

James recoils as if struck, the sting of rejection shattering his heart into thousands of pieces

“You might think it wise to revisit what we offered you, James.”

The words hang in the air like a dark omen when Steven and Samuel disappear. With a heavy heart, James turns away from you, unable to bear the weight of your disappointment any longer.

As you walk away, James is torn between the desire to comfort you and the fear of causing you further pain. But when he reaches out to touch you, once more, your tears are a silent testament to the rift that now lies between you. 

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice choked with emotion. It’s a desperate attempt to fix this, even if he does not know how.

“Go, James. Please. I need time to understand all this-”

“I can help you.”

“-alone. I want to be alone.” You swallow hard. “Leave, please.” Your tears finally spill and James despises that he is at fault of them.

“Go.”

Feeling more abandoned than ever, James leaves you to your grief, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his soul. In that moment, he realizes that the price of his newfound freedom may be greater than he ever imagined, leaving him trapped in a prison of his own making, forever haunted by the memory of the one he could never save.

He knows there are not many ways to fix this. But he is determined to find the one that will.

❁ ❁ ❁

He doesn’t remember earth to be quite this cold. 

Find me when you have made the right choice. The words keep ringing in his head. 

A little warmth would feel nice now.

❁ ❁ ❁

You were angry when you told James to leave. Angry, and hurt, and confused, and shocked, and fucking tired of it all. 

But now that he is gone, an unfamiliar emptiness has taken its place where your tingles used to be. Everything makes so much sense now. The weirdly familiar feeling. The sense of security around him - a total stranger at the time, who obviously possessed more strength than you could ever imagine. The instant pull from his heart to yours. 

The quiet of your house seems to close in on you. The walls feel tighter, the rooms emptier. Every corner holds a memory of James, a reminder of the presence that had once filled your life with warmth and mystery. His laugh echoing in the hallway, his silhouette framed in the morning light through the kitchen window, the way he seemed to know when you needed comfort before you even realized it yourself.

You sit at the table, staring at your untouched cup of coffee, replaying moments in your mind. The time he effortlessly carried your groceries when you insisted you could manage alone. The nights he stayed up with you, talking about everything and nothing, his voice soothing and familiar. The way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe.

The days seem endless without him. Simple tasks feel monumental in the absence of his reassuring presence. You find yourself hesitating before making decisions, second-guessing your choices, yearning for the silent support he always provided. The realization hits you: you had built your life around him, around the safety and stability he brought, even without knowing the full truth of who he was.

You cannot deny that a big part of you misses him despite all the lies he told you. Well, not lies entirely. You know he has always been truthful to you ...he just never told the whole truth until he was forced to.

And even though the other two angels who visited made him reveal his secrets to you, you feel like there is so much more to discover still. 

Your hand settles over your heart, trying to pull the constant racing around James back into existence. But it beats in profound silence, acting as though nothing has happened, when - in fact - everything has changed. James came into your life and unapologetically took your heart away. You don’t want it back. You want him back. Heart or not, your souls are connected. And now that he is gone, you know what you have truly been missing all this time. 

With a sigh, you rise form your chair and grab your keys, determined to find a way to help James out of the trouble he has caused because of you. A shiver runs down your spine at the memories of it all. James’s sin had good intentions, you know this much. But two people died at the time of it - though only one deserves your mourning. 

You pull your door closed and make your way to town hall. The entire left wing of the building is dedicated to the library and you are destined to find out more about the man who crashed into your life and took your heart away... and then disappeared. 

The library is quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper the only sounds that break the stillness. You approach the counter, where a librarian is meticulously organizing a stack of book. She looks up as you approach, her kind eyes lighting up with curiosity. 

“Hello, dear,” she says warmly. How can I help you today?”

You hesitate for a moment but then you decide to just start at the beginning. “I’m looking for some texts about angels,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More specifically fallen angels... and the consequences of disobeying.”

The librarian raises an eyebrow and a look close to amusement and happiness reaches over her face. “That’s a rather specific topic,” she muses and your brow begins to sweat. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The woman is still eyeing you with a smolder, but then, as if you pushed a button, she shrugges and begins to type away on her computer. “Good thing it’s my job to get you exactly what you need.”

She nods slowly after a little while. “We do have some old texts and legends about angels. Let me show you.” With that, she lifts her body out of the office chair behind the desk and leads you to the far end of the library. It’s a quiet corner where the oldest books are kept. She pulls an ancient-looking leather-bound volume from a high shelf. For the place it has been kept, it is surprisingly dust-free. 

With a smile, she hands it to you and then wishes you ‘happy hunting’.

The book is heavy in your hands. The front is embossed in golden letters. Your fingers trace over it, feeling every ridge and dip. ‘Legends of the Divine and Fallen’, the title reads. 

When you flip through the pages, the book’s well-worn smell engulfs you and something inside you shifts. You brother loved old books. The one in your hand brings you right back to when you were kids. Pietro had a whole wall of shelves filled with his favorite stories. And more so than often, you snuck inside when he was out with his friends, grabbing one whose cover intrigued you the most and then getting lost in the pages until he came back and read it to you. 

He sparked your interest in reading - made you the bookworm you are today. And finally, probably caused you to jump into this adventure with James in hopes of finally living inside on of your fantasy worlds. 

You eyes get caught by a story in the book, your thumbs halting and fully opening the page as intrigue tingles in your entire body with every word you read. 

The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel

In the celestial realms, where light and harmony prevail, there existed an angel named Buchariel. Renowned for his loyalty and dedication, Buchariel was also marked by an insatiable curiosity. His yearning to understand the world beyond the heavenly gates set him apart from his brethren, who were content to serve without question.

One fateful day, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Buchariel descended to the mortal realm without divine permission. His eyes beheld the beauty and chaos of humanity, the joys and sorrows that defined their existence. It was in this realm, teeming with life and temptation, that Buchariel's fate took a dark turn.

As Buchariel wandered the earth, a demon of cunning and allure took notice of the angel's presence. This demon, skilled in the art of seduction, approached Buchariel with promises of forbidden knowledge and experiences that no celestial being had ever known. Blinded by his curiosity, Buchariel succumbed to the demon's temptations, engaging in acts that defied the sacred laws of the heavens.

Word of Buchariel's fall reached the celestial realm, and the angels were dispatched to retrieve their wayward brother. They arrived in time to save Buchariel from complete corruption, pulling him from the demon's grasp and returning him to the realm of light. However, the consequences of his actions could not be undone.

The celestial court declared Buchariel's punishment. He was stripped of his rank and given an ultimatum: he could return to heaven only if he vowed never to betray the divine will again. God, in His infinite mercy, offered Buchariel a chance at redemption. He was to serve as a guardian angel, watching over humanity and guiding them towards righteousness. In this duty, he could be close to the world, yet stay obedient to heaven. 

Buchariel accepted his fate, grateful for the opportunity to make amends. Yet, the legend speaks of the angel's perpetual struggle. Constantly exposed to the allure of the mortal world, Buchariel walked a fine line between duty and desire. His heart, once pure and untainted, now carried the scars of his past transgressions.

Eons passed, and Buchariel's vigilance never wavered, but neither did the temptations. His soul remained in perpetual conflict, torn between his heavenly duty and the memories of earthly sensations. The legend warns that Buchariel's fall could occur once more, for the battle within him is eternal. He is an angel forever on the edge of sin, a guardian who knows the weight of temptation, and a being who understands the cost of free will.

Thus, the tale of Buchariel serves as both a caution and a beacon. It reminds all who hear it of the delicate balance between obedience and desire, and the endless journey towards redemption that even the most divine must undertake.

A chill runs down your spine as you realize the parallels between the legend and James. The delicate balance between obedience and desire - serving and sinning. James did sin again. When he killed the man who ended your brother’s life. 

You sit in silence, the weight of your realization settling over you like a shroud. It’s clear that Jame’s story resembles that of Buchariel in too many ways to be a coincidence. He was weirdly comfortable on earth, now that you think about it. For Christ's sake he even told you he had met God ‘under rather unfortunate circumstances’. If what the legend says is true, unfortunate is the understatement of the century. Now you cant help but wonder what price he might pay for his defiance.

❁ ❁ ❁

The diner hums with its usual activity, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations fill the air. You move mechanically from table to table, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, but your mind is elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of James and the emptiness his absence has left behind.

Peggy, sitting at her usual spot at the counter, watches you with concern etched on her face. She waits until you pass by her with the coffee pot before speaking up.

"What's happened to that smile of yours, dear?" Peggy asks, her voice soft and maternal. "You used to light up this place."

You force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Just tired, Peggy. You know how it is."

Peggy's eyes narrow, not buying your excuse for a second. "Tired, my foot. Something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."

Before you can respond, Scott chimes in with a smirk. "At least now I know you’re back to normal," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you were gonna float away with all that grinning you were doing."

You shoot Scott a glare, feeling a mix of irritation and sadness. "Thanks, Scott. Really helpful."

“Always at your service” He tips his nonexistent hat, almost bringing a chuckle up within you. In his own way, he never faisl to cheer you up a little.

Peggy waves a dismissive hand at Scott and turns her full attention back to you. "Don't mind him, honey.” She leans in closer, her expression softening. "But seriously, what's going on? I haven't seen you this down in a while."

You sigh, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It's complicated, Peggy. Someone important to me... well, they're not around anymore. And it's just... hard."

Peggy reaches out and pats your hand gently. “We all miss Pietro, dear. Losing someone is never easy... especially after all you’ve been through.”

You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the ache in your chest remains. You can't bring yourself to tell her it’s not your brother you are mourning at this time. "I appreciate that."

The hustle and bustle of the diner continues around you, but for a brief moment, you feel a small measure of comfort in Peggy's concern.

As you turn to refill another customer's coffee, Peggy's words linger in your mind. Maybe opening up a bit more wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, sharing the burden could help ease the pain of James's absence, even if only a little. But who should you talk to? The only person you were every really close with is gone...

❁ ❁ ❁

Yet another day passes in which you worry yourself tired. The house feels emptier than ever, the silence pressing in on you as you move through the rooms like a ghost. You try to distract yourself with chores and routines, but your thoughts always circle back to James. Wondering if he’s safe or thinking about you.

You sink into the worn armchair by the window, your favorite spot to watch the world outside. But tonight, the familiar view brings no comfort. The sky is a dark canvas, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the loneliness wrap around you like a suffocating blanket as Old Lee’s words echo in your mind once again. 

A quiet sob calls into the empty room - barely audible. And then the tears start falling down your face in constant streams. The memory of his touch, his warmth, his presence, feels like a distant dream. You close your eyes, trying to recall the feeling of James's arms around you, the sound of his heartbeat against yours. It's a comfort and a torment all at once.

You haven’t cried like this since Pietro died... No, actually, you did when the message of Brock’s death reached you. But those were tears of relief rather than pain. 

A sudden chill sweeps through the room, at the memory of the man who tormented your life in more ways than one. You open your eyes, frowning as you notice that it’s not only the thought of Brock making you feel this way. The air seems to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you feel a strange pull, a familiar yet eerie sensation that makes your heart race.

You stand up slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. The room feels alive with a palpable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is shifting. You turn around, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

And then you see him.

❁ ❁ ❁

James stands before you, his presence both startling and comforting, he notes as your herts sync again. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. You look as if you've been through a storm, yet there is a resolute strength in your gaze that anchors him. He probably doesn’t look much better, considering he in fact has been in said storm. But he’d do anything to come back to you. 

"James," you breathe, your voice trembling with emotion. "You're here.”

He steps forward, closing the distance between you. "I’m here," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and unshared moments.

You reach out, your hand trembling as it touches his cheek, as if verifying that he is real and not another figment of your imagination. Your skin is cold and the sensation sends a flood of emotions through him.

"Where have you been?" you ask, your voice cracking with the weight of your worry.

“It is a long story," he replies, his hand covering yours. "But right now, all that matters is that I'm here. With you.”

In that moment, the world outside fades away, and all that exists is the space between you and James. The silence is filled with unspoken promises and the electric charge of a reunion long overdue. 

When you fall into his arms crying, his knees feel like giving out. He has had a long journey behind him, but he would die before showing you weakness when you need him the most. “I thought I would never see you again!” You cry even harder and James wraps his arms around you with loving pressure.

“I’m here,” he tries to soothe you. His wings come around you once again in search for the calmness that washes over him when he realizes you feel safe. 

“I don’t think I can do without you anymore.” Your voice is muffled against his chest but his heart leaps at your confession. Warmth spreads throughout his body as the realization hits that you finally feel close to the emotions he has harbored for you for so long. 

James wants to promise you that he’ll never leave again. He wants to tell you that there is nothing worth losing you. Not the most tempting offer to ever exist. He wants to hold you forever, in fact, do more than just hold you and give into the feeling he has only ever heard about from demons and sinners. 

But he can’t. Because he knows it would not be true. 

His feud with heaven is far from over. And the journey he plans to venture holds great unknown. So, he settles for the one thing he can tell you with certainty. 

“I cannot be without you, either, my beloved. There is so much I want to experience with you but the most important of them all is love. I love you, with my entire soul and heart. I cannot deny you this truth any longer. I have done the unspeakable because of it and you deserve to know.”

You eyes look up at him widely, a question in them that has waited long enough to be asked. “Brock’s death wasn’t an accident,” you whisper, but your posture remains steady. There is no pain or sorrow in your face. Just pure, plain curiosity.

“They told me he was mugged and thrown in the river. But it never made sense to me.” You pull a little out of his touch and James lets you even though his entire body screams to keep you close. “This town is too small to be mugged in. He was killed with a single stab to his heart. A mugger would never be so efficient.”

You gleam at him, seemingly waiting for him to confirm. But James stands in your presence with a sense of pride. He does not regret is transgression, not when it meant keeping you safe - which was and still is his greatest aim. 

“The way he was found was too peaceful to be from a robbery, either.” You tell him shaking your head. “How can you make a murder look so respectful and honest?” 

“I am sorry if I have upset you, dearest-“

“You haven’t. Brock Rumlow was a bad man. It took me a long time to notice, but he was abusing and ill-driven. If anything, I am upset I couldn’t thank you sooner that he is gone.”

“I had played with the though of removing him from the face of the earth for quite some time,” James confesses, feeling all the secret’s weight rolling off him like avalanches. “From the moment he first screamed at you... to the time he laid his hands on you. But I knew you were strong. I was so proud of you for getting up each day and moving on. I would have never acted had he not hurt you in a way even i could feel throught the very bond that ties our souls together. I knew you could handle the hurtful words, even the hurtful touches - that no-one, and especially not you, deserves. Your brother is of similar cunning as myself. But he was brave enough to act while I was fearing the consequences of testing celestial rule once more.” 

James catches the new tears rushing down your cheeks. But he wont stop telling you. He knows you need to hear it. It hurts him to revisit the memory of watching Pietro die in his quest to secure your freedom. “I was trying to honor you brother as much as ensure your safety when I... killed Brock.” He clears his throat and takes your hands in his. “He would have continued to hurt every person he encountered. I do not regret what I did.”

“Oh, James.” Your hands reach up to his face. James bows down to follow the tug you apply to his jaw. “Thank you for telling me. I am not angry. And despite what the other angels said, I know you are a good person. I love you, too.” 

You smile as James’s hands cover yours on his face. Your foreheads are touching and the room around you fades into nothingness. In this moment in time, there are just you and him, and all the new feeling bubbling inside him that he his eager to explore. 

He’s known it for long, but now he is certain than going back to heaven was never an option. Not when you are still here. 

“I would love to kiss you right now,” you whisper in the space between you, igniting a heat within James he has never felt before.

“I would like that very much,” he confesses and as soon as the words leave his lips, yours are firmly pressed against his. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Your lips are soft and warm, moving against his in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hands still press yours to his skin, unsure what to do and overwhelmed with the experience opened to him. You gently take them and move then to your waist, then a little lower, making him trace the curve of your body as your tongue slowly slips between his lips. The contact sends a surge of electricity through him, making his heart race.

The kiss is tentative at first, each of you exploring this new and wondrous connection. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as if afraid he might vanish with this daring protest against heaven. He can feel the gentle tremor in your touch, the same mixture of awe and desire that he feels within himself.

You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. Your breath mingles with his, cheeks heated and lips swollen. “Move your hands, James,” you whisper, guiding his hands to slide even lower on your body, teaching him how to hold you close, even though he thought he has always done so right. This is different. This is more.

He follows your lead, fingers trembling with the intensity of the moment as they squeeze flesh, eliciting a soft whimper from you that makes James’s insides stir. Or maybe it is not his insides after all, he notices when his pants feel tighter all of a sudden. 

Each brush of your lips against his, each caress, speaks of the longing and love that has been building between you for so long. James deepens the kiss, more confident now, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and it’s as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek, and you smile, voice breathless. “You’re doing great.”

The kiss becomes more fervent, your guidance helping James navigate this new territory. He feels like he’s pouring all his love and devotion into this one act, wanting to convey everything he’s never been able to say. His wings reach round you tentatively, leaving enough air for you to breathe. He want’s to be wrapped up in you more - he cannot explain it.

James pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “This... this is incredible,” he murmurs in a voice husky with wonder. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

You smile, eyes sparkling. “Neither have I.”

Your lips find each other again, more urgent this time, as if you’re making up for lost time - at least James is. The demon who lured him down the first time failed to mention this part of humanity to him.

“I want to show you more,” you finally whisper against his skin and at this point, James is willing to walk the sun if you asked him to. 

“Everything,” he rasps, his lips touching you with every syllable. He cannot get enough of your taste. “Show it all to me, my love.”

“I want to start with taking off our clothes.” You kiss him again, making Jame’s pants feel even tighter. He knows about sex and he knows it is what you are hinting at. But he has never experienced it. It is no use to angels, since they cannot impregnate another. In heaven, it is rarely talked about - and if it is, one is warned about it. 

Right now, James does not care why. He is eager to experience as much as there is on earth with you and then some. So, he lets you guide his hands over your shoulders, shrugging your cardigan off your body and letting his fingers glide beneath the thin straps adorning your shoulders now. 

His hands are so big compared to yours. He marvels in the fact of how much stronger he is, making him able to protect you that much better. 

James has no difficulty guiding the clothes from your body. Nakedness is something barely acknowledged where he comes from. But today... something about it feels different. This situation feels so much more intimate than it usually does. And he notices, when you kneel down to pull his pants down, his cock stands proud from his body, bigger than usual, and hard and- “Oh!” sensitive, he notes when your lips kiss his hip, your face slightly grazing his member in the action. 

With your head next to it, it looks disproportionately huge, but you don’t seem to mind. 

“This... I have never done this before.” James’s hands guide you back up to him. He is certain his cheeks are glowing red by now. He feels hot and bothered, yet so yearning for more of the teasing your face provided for mere seconds before. 

“Are you okay with continuing?” Your eyes find his again. 

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.” And when he nods, you take his hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom. 

He has missed this place, missed holding you for the time he went away, but he can't tell you where he has been just yet. Not now, anyway. Right now, he wants to experience whatever you are willing to show him. 

You walk around him, touching him all over, watching him react and making him lean down only to pull back before his lips can get a taste of yours again. It’s beautiful agony and James is torn between pulling you into his strong grip and letting you wind him up until his balls feel like they are the ones squeezed tightly. They already are...

Eventually, you come to a stop behind him. He jolts when you fingers drive over the top of his wings, only for you to mumble a quick ‘sorry’ and coming back around in front of him. 

“Don’t be sorry. I was just not expecting it.”

You stare past him and at the white feathers protruding from his back. “They are so soft... and pretty.” You find his eyes. “All of you is pretty.”

He reaches for your face, finding pride in the way you nestle into his palm with a smile. “And dear, you are the most beautiful being the world has ever seen.”

“Can I touch them again?” You whisper only for James to now stare in awe. 

He watches as your hands pass his body in slow-motion. They travel past his ribs and reach carefully towards his wings again. This time, he is prepared, though his stomach feels tight with something opposite of worry. More of a physical feeling he can't begin to explain. He closes his eyes and lets your touch travel over them like a prayer. Your path leaves shivers in its wake and James lets his head hang, reveling in the feeling. He opens his eyes and watches his cock twitch whenever the tingles get too much. 

He gasps breathlessly when you graze the underside of his wings, making his whole body jump slightly. 

“Oh, are those sensitive?” You smile in awe, though your expression turns to excitement when he wheezes out his answer. 

“Very.”

“Do you like it?” 

Your fingers glide over the same spot again, making his cock leak, feeling like he’s about to explode. “Yes!” He grabs the sideboard next to him.

“I want to make you feel good, James” your voice is damp agains this ear and he bites his tongue before bursting. 

“You already do.” 

“I want to make it even better.”

James is not sure he can handle better. He’s already floating miles above the ground when you touch him in the ways you do. Maybe he has to distract himself to enjoy this some more. 

He could think about why heaven would withhold education of how amazing sex can be. That will make him calm a little, posting yet another reason why it was never the place to be for him. 

Your hands wrap around his silver wrists as you guide him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders until he is sat on the mattress, looking up at you with intrigue and awe. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ride you, James.” You straddle his lap and his arms immediately reach around you. 

“Ride ...me? I’m not a horse.” He states and watches as your smile lights up. But it settles a weary feeling in his stomach. There is a hint of mischief in your glint, and James is not sure he can handle it right now. 

“Do you trust me?”

“With my entire soul.”

You kiss him and push at his chest. “The lie back for me.”

And so he does, realizing - once again - that anything heaven could offer him pales in comparison to the love he feels for you, a love that knows no bounds or logic and that is reciprocated in your every touch. 

James watches as you scoot up his body until you are sat right behind his cock, which has not ceased to soften one bit since you kissed. It reaches all the way to your navel. But before he can take in the sight and calculate the size difference between you, you press him against your stomach, pulling another moan from his lunges. 

His tip is leaking more and more with every touch you gift him and James starts to worry his body will give out before he can make you feel good. 

“You’re so big, so pretty.” You stroke him from base to top, letting your thumb press into the underside of his cock and send shiver after shiver through James’s body. “I need you inside me.”

“I need that to.” His voice is strangled when you lift up and grind his tip through your wet folds, moaning with the friction he can only assume is the same for you as it is for him. 

In a swift motion, the head of his cock sinks inside you, breaching tight muscle and making him feel dizzy with the new sensation. Your head falls back with a loud breath that makes his abs tighten. This whole time, he feels as though a gust of wind could make him unravel, but something inside him tells James he should hold out - or at least try to. 

The raspy sounds escaping his throat cant seem to stop when you slowly work yourself all the way down his shaft. And the high-pitched scream you set free when his tip reaches another barrier within you makes him twitch and leak even more. 

“Are you alright?” He asks through sweaty brows. 

“I’m amazing.” You smile and lift yourself up only to sink back down into his lap. Your movements become steady, and when he finally gets over the way your mouth hangs slack, the rhythm you set builds even more pressure inside him. 

The room is filled with messy sounds of skin and sweat and moans and heavy breaths. You sink down on him again and again until James feels like he is on fire. But you don’t relent. Your pace never falters when you fall back and your hands grip his thighs, digging into his muscles until his toes curl. 

It’s too much at once and not enough at the same time. James feels as though there is a cliff he could fall over every second now, but he’s too scared to loose the sensations he is experiencing right now to let his body do so. 

“Touch me,” you suddenly say, taking his hands which have fisted inside your duvet until now and placing them on the soft flesh of your breasts. Only now, your nipples are hardened when you guide his fingers over them. “Like this.” You’re somehow fare gone and right there with him. But he does as he his told again, flicking his thumb over the pebbled flesh until your moans grow higher and higher. “Ah, Yes!”

It’s doing something to him, he his twitching every time your pussy squeezes him in tandem with his thumb on your nipples. His body is moving without the permission of his mind when he suddenly thrusts up. And then again. And again. Until you are mewling and crying on top of him, your fingernails digging into his legs painfully hard. 

James immediately drops his hands only to watch you stare at him with wide eyes. 

“What’s the matter. Why did you stop?”

He bites his lips in shame when he realizes he misses your constant movement on his cock. “Am I hurting you?”

You eyes possibly widen further. Leaning forward and capturing his cheeks with both lips and hands, you shake your head after you pull away. “No! No, its a good thing, love. You feel so good. You...” Your expression changes to a rather shy one. “You’re just very big. You should be proud.”

Something inside James clicks as you confess with another kiss to his lips. A smirk spreads beneath them when he curiously thrusts up inside you and experiences your hot breath gains his face. 

In a second, his hands grab onto your hips, his body turns and flips the pair of you until your back hits the mattress as gently as he can offer in his compromised position. 

A last look of reassurance when your eyes lock with his set off the urges he has suppressed so far. His hips snap forward over and over again, your pussy tightening more around him with every push. Your hands are fist into the covers, head thrown back and mouth open. There is no more sound coming from you at this point. And James understands why. He is as overwhelmed with the feeling as you look. When you grow even tighter, gripping this cock until he cannot move anymore, white pleasure as hot as hellfire rushes through his body, kissing his nerves from head to toe. He feels his balls empty as he paints your inside with his spent, only being able to lazily rut into you after a minute to seize every last drop of pleasure this moment has to offer. 

Then he falls forward as if a higher force has taken all the strength from his body, though careful not to hurt you when his weight settles on top of you. 

“What-“ he needs to catch his breath first. “What was that?”

“That,” you open your eyes, chest having with every deep breath, “was an orgasm.” Your hands brush through his hair and James finds himself purring at the touch. “And it was the best one I’ve ever had.” 

You kiss him and chuckle when he looks at you questioningly. “I guess you could say it was outer-worldly... or even heavenly.” 

James rolls his eyes but can’t stop the laugh from slipping his lunges. He pulls back and watches as his softened cock leaves your pussy, only to be followed by your mixed arousal dripping out of you. 

Trance-like, his hand moves to collect the fluid and begins to smear it over your petals, up into the soft tuft above it. He knows angels cannot impregnate other beings, but he is fascinated by the scene in front of him. It’s like a little testimony when he marks you all around the best place he has ever experienced, wordlessly rubbing and enjoying the whimpering sounds you make when he flicks over a particular spot. 

“Is this sensitive?” He teases with a smirk only to be met with a playful smack on his arm. 

“Very.” you say. “But I am entirely satisfied as of right now.”

James sighs and falls into the sheets beside you. “Me too.” He nuzzles into your neck and pulls you closer to his body. He does not care that you are sticky with sweat or that neither of you are cleaned up. He just needs to hold you now that reality has taken its place back around him again. 

“So, you have been watching over me for - what? All my life?”

James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly. 

“All your life, yes.”

“And have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?”

“Do you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?”

It’s silent for a moment, but your movements don’t falter. “I always thought that was a weird coincidence.”

James smiles into the crook of your neck. “Consider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.”

You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. “I like you like this.” You smile.

“Like what?” He’s smiling as well.”

“Less angel, more...” Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. “...deviant.”

The smile on James’s face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back. 

He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.

❁ ❁ ❁

James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. He’s out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night. 

The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesn’t bother him; it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness he’s found with you. 

As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments you’ve shared—the way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete. 

James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.

But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.

“Are you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.” You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside. 

But James’s stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda. 

“What is going on?” You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense you’re eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him. 

“Who is that?” you whisper into James’s shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now. 

When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch. 

“You promised me time to explore the likes of this life.” His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little. 

“And explored you have,” her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. “Tell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?”

The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devil’s spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract. 

“You know it is,” he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already. 

“Actually, I don’t. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.” Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. “Oh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.”

The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He need’s to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire. 

“Just give me a moment, Wanda,” James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.

“What is happening? What does she want?” There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for. 

James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.

“I’m not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,” you mutter with unease, and James kisses you—short and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.

Then he whispers against your lips, “Please, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?” His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.

But the feeling doesn’t last long.

“James has made a deal with the devil,” Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.

Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level. 

“What does she mean, James?”

❁ ❁ ❁

James’s silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know it’s not.

“James.” Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. “What is she talking about?”

“It is true,” James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. “I have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.”

“What?” The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. “Why are you doing this?” you ask through your tears.

“Because I’d give up heaven if it meant being with you.” James’s eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. “I’d go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. You’re everything to me. Everything.”

Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. “You can’t do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.”

“And there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.” He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuck’s sake. “I would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.”

“James, think about this.” Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic. 

“I have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.”

You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t do to be with you.”

Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin. 

Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. “So you’re just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?”

You don’t know  much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn. 

“Then it was worth it.” There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jame’s stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though your’s seems to do the opposite. 

“No.” You say breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.

“James.”

“I love you.”

“James.”

The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. He’s gone. He’s gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.

❁ ❁ ❁

And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy… and rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely. 

James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what you’ve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him. 

A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore you’d never let anyone this close to you. It’s the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back. 

You heart cannot take another hit. It’s constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really. 

You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.

You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.

“New customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,” Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen. 

You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray. 

“I’d like a sandwich, please.” A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.

It can’t be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy. 

But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you don’t dare to turn around. 

“Are you not going to look at me, dearest?”

Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if it’s real? What if it’s not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.

“James...” The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.

You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.

Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it. 

“Is it really you?” You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. It’s real. 

“In the ...flesh.” he frowns but then smiles widely. 

“What happened when you were gone?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist. 

“Not here, love. Take me home... if you’ll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.”

You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, you’ve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect. 

“I will always choose you over anything else, James.” You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back. 

The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth. 

“But tell me one thing,” you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice. 

“I will tell you anything,” he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close. 

“Are you... did the-“ you’re not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say. 

He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. “Yes,” he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. “I did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.”

His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In James’s arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else. 

“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me.” You smile back between kisses.

James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. “We have a lifetime to show each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Because at last, there’s noting more freeing than falling itself.

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...

Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg 💗

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[sluttsumu]

DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

[formula-ghost]

Supermodel (FC43 x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: Franco can’t understand how you, the love of his life, could ever feel insecure—so he goes above and beyond to show you (and the world) how beautiful he thinks his girlfriend is. This can be read within the RYD universe or as a stand alone one shot!

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI. Teasing, light dom reader/ sub Franco at the beginning dom Franco at the end, body dysmorphia/reader insecurity, worship, mirror sex, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk/mentions of AFAB anatomy (reader has a vagina), use of the word whore, protected sex. Use of YN. Also the song doesn’t match the vibe of the story but I wanted to stick with the Måneskin theme lol.  

A/N: Some more Franco content! I need some more time with the Oscar fic, plus I’ll be returning to regular life since the holidays are over soon, so I figured I’d tide you over with a spicy Franco one shot. Since (in my head at least) this is set in the RYD universe, I’ve included the same tag list, and I hope you all enjoy it!

TAGLIST:  @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @xivilivix @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse  @uncreativetm  @ncrsbrg  @tillyt04 @amz824 @ellelabelle

Yeah, she’s a master, my compliments

If you wanna love her, just deal with that

She’ll never love you more than money and cigarettes

Every night’s a heartbreak

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Franco panted, his eyes trailing your curves up and down just as his fist squeezed tightly over the growing bulge in his pants. 

Your cheeks were flushed red, almost as dark as the wine-colored matching lingerie set you now wore before him, leaving little to the imagination. You couldn’t help it—no matter how long you’d been with the Argentine, you still got bashful when he complimented you. 

“I hope you know I mean it,” he began, leaving his spot on the bed to advance toward you. He gently brushed your hair away and kissed the top of your shoulder, looking up at you with his deceptively innocent doe eyes. “You’re the most perfect thing in the world to me.”

You smiled, blissful at the feeling of his touch. “It’s easy to say that when I’m standing in front of you in my new set.”

“I love you,” he said, as if it was as simple as telling the time. “So much. More than words can say. And I want you to remember that when you’re mad at me after I rip this off of you.”

He grabbed the strap of your bra, and you giggled, “You better not!” You playfully pushed him back on the bed. “No touching, not yet. Be good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, obedient to only you. The grip you had on him was intoxicating. 

You climbed up on the bed, straddling him, running your featherlight fingertips up and down his arms and chest. 

“Mi amor,” he exhaled, “you are cruel to me.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, sarcastic yet seductive.

“Don’t you dare.”

You laughed. If he thought a bit of teasing was cruel, he would not be having fun for the rest of the night.

But, of course, he loved nothing more than ravishing your body, evident by his labored breath, laying next to you when the deed was finished. He stared at you with awe, your eyes still closed. He listened as you tried to catch your breath, placing gentle kisses on the top of your arm and into your shoulder.

You just let out a little noise in response, feeling safe and comforted by his touch. When you two were alone, he always needed to touch you in some way, much to your dismay during the sweltering hot months of summer. 

His kisses traced their way up to your neck, chin, and finally to your cheek, where he gently moved your hair out of your face to gaze on the gorgeous image of your face. 

“I wish there were better words in English to explain how I feel about you,” he said, his voice low and genuine. “Something stronger than I love you. Something more than just beautiful.” 

“You know I love it when you speak to me in Spanish,” you said, letting your eyelids flutter open to meet his gaze, only inches from your own.

“Yes, but I want you to understand what I mean.” He smiled softly. 

“My Spanish is getting better.”

“It is, you’re doing great,” he joked, nuzzling his nose into your neck, leaving you in a fit of giggles. “You’ll be talking circles around me in no time.”

“I wish. You’re fluent in yapenese,” you joked. You playfully mocked his voice, “Mi amor, you are so beautiful, the light of my life—” 

“Oh hush,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “You love it.”

“I do.”

“And it’s true.” He cupped your face, bringing you into a sweet embrace with a gentle kiss. “Join me in the shower?” 

“In a minute,” you answered, as he got up from the bed and started the warm water. After a few more moments of rest, you got up, picking up the discarded items of clothing that now dotted the floor, thrown aside in the heat of the passionate moment. 

You crossed the room to open the bureau and grab a fresh set of pajamas, before you caught sight of your reflection in the floor-length mirror. 

You had gained a little weight. It was normal, you supposed; a natural result of your many nights out with your lover. 

But you felt stuck in front of the mirror, your eyes rolling over the curves at the bottom of your stomach, what once was somewhat flat. Little thunderbolt-shaped lines now decorated the dimpled skin. And as you brought your arm up to grip the loose fat, you saw the extra flesh there too. 

“Mi amor, you coming?” Franco called from inside the bathroom. You hummed in response. 

You turned, noticing how the light caught every imperfection. The puffiness in your face, the roundness of your jaw, the lines and bumps and discoloration. You sucked in your stomach, seeing the surface flatten, then exhaled, watching with disgust how your body shifted.

“Amor?” Franco said, poking his head outside of the bathroom. Seeing you in front of the mirror, he crossed the room, finding his way behind you. He was covered only with a towel, wrapping his arms around your naked form and kissing your neck. But the sight of his flawless, athletic body behind yours did nothing to dismiss your insecurities. 

“What are you doing, pretty girl, hm?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ve gained weight.”

“Did you? I didn’t notice.” His voice was tinged with a genuine confusion. 

“I look like I’m pregnant,” you said, gesturing to your bloated stomach.

“No it doesn’t,” he assured. “But if you want to be pregnant, we can arrange that.”

You ignored his attempts at banter. “I look gross.”

“Mi amor,” Franco began, his voice more serious. “Do I need to fuck you again to show you how beautiful you are?”

“Franco—”

“YN.”

You looked away.  “You could be with a model.”

“I’m with you. And you’re perfect, and I love you with my entire heart.” You bit the inside of your cheek. He continued, “Look at me.”

You brought your gaze back to his. “Your body has changed a little bit, so what?”

“It’s easy for you to say. You’re an athlete.”

“That doesn’t matter. No more of this talk. You’re beautiful. End of discussion. Now, let’s stop wasting water and get in the shower.”

You weren’t really feeling any better. If anything, you felt worse, now self conscious of your nakedness as Franco ran his hands up and down the soapy surface of your skin. You wanted nothing more than to get out of the shower, put on your clothes, and bury yourself so deep under the covers that you’d forget that you ever even possessed a physical form. 

And, much to Franco’s dismay, that’s what you did, turning away from him as you laid your head down to sleep. He pushed himself up next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He tapped his foot on your leg, initiating you to throw it over his is like you usually did every night. 

“You know,” he whispered, “this is when you’re supposed to pretend like you like me.”

“It’s not you, Franco,” you whispered back. “I love you. But it’s not something you can fix.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But that won't stop me from trying.” He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, and you fell into a tense sleep.

Although Franco hadn’t initially noticed your physical changes, he now noticed your emotional ones. You wore loose clothing more often, as if to hide your body not only from the outside world, but from yourself. You skipped breakfast occasionally when you were having a really bad day. And now, when you made love, you wanted the lights out, preventing him from seeing the shapes of your body.  

He knew that what you had said was true—he couldn’t fix this. No matter the amount of love he showered you in, he couldn’t change the way your mind thought when you looked at yourself in the mirror. And it broke his heart knowing that you couldn’t see the same version of yourself that he saw, the perfect girl who he loved so dearly.

Your pain was beyond his fixing, but not beyond his helping. If he had showered you in love before, it was monsoon season now. Flowers every week. More lingerie to model for him.  Touching you nearly every second of the day. More sex than your body could handle. 

Of course, you welcomed his affection. But none of it helped that wound deep inside of you. 

It was at work, of all places, that he got the idea. 

“We’ve got a meeting with the new sponsors today,” his manager explained as they quickly trotted down the long hallway to the conference room. “That luxury brand I was telling you about? I’ve sealed the contract, they’re just here to plan the promo materials.”

Now, sitting in the conference room, the brand representative explained it to him. “The idea for the campaign is risque luxury. We want something… elegant, yet dangerous. Formula 1 fans are the perfect audience. Most of the shots for the initial campaign would just be in-studio, and then, we’d need you to wear some pieces we provide at official Formula 1 events.”

“That all sounds fine,” he said. 

“Great! We’re still looking for some more representatives for the women’s line, but when we find them, we can set up a date for the shoot.”

“Wait, like a female model? I’d need to pose with her?”

“For the first shoot, yes. And if we can get some shots of you and whoever we choose at official events, that’d be perfect.”

“Uh, well, I have a girlfriend. I can't just…be taking random women to events.”

The rep laughed. “Oh, it’s not like that. The models are all professionals. I assure you that no one would be trying to take you away from your partner.”

“If you all need a female model, why not just use her? We’ll be seen together a lot more than anyone else, no?”

His manager shot him a death glare. Was it highly unprofessional to be suggesting his own girlfriend for a job like this? Absolutely. Did he care at all? Absolutely not. 

The rep asked, “Oh, does she model?” 

“Eh… no, not professionally. But this could be her big break, no?” Franco laughed, and the rep did too, for obviously different reasons. But Franco was, unfortunately, serious. 

“Does she have social media?” the rep asked, and Franco pulled up your instagram as the rep scrolled through. 

“Well, first of all, she’s beautiful,” the rep said, clearly trying to be polite. “But, modeling is not just about being pretty.”

“Then why am I here?” The room erupted in laughter, but Franco hadn’t intended the statement to come out like a joke. “No, I’m serious. I drive Formula 1 cars. What are my modeling qualifications?”

“Well,” the rep began, carefully choosing his words, “you have the Latin American market in a chokehold—”

Franco cut him off. “My fans love her, too.”

The rep pursed his lips. “I’m sure they do.” 

“Look, I’m not trying to be difficult—”

“Not at all,” the rep said, cutting Franco off as well. “Let me ask, though… is this a deal breaker for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if we get a real model, are you saying you wont pose or be seen with her?” 

Franco looked at his manager across the table, who was nothing short of fuming. He began, “You said the theme was ‘risque luxury.’ I’m not going to pose for risque photos with another woman, no.”

The rep sighed. Franco continued, “And honestly, I still don’t even understand why you all even want me to model for you. Nobody in Argentina can even afford these outrageous prices—”

“Okay Franco, that’s enough!” his manager said, a false happiness in her tone. She turned to walk the rep outside, saying, “This has been a wonderful meeting, we can’t wait to hear from you…”

Once he had exited the building, she returned, looked at Franco, and said, “I hope you know you just lost us that contract.”

“Did you sign me up to do a photoshoot with a random woman?”

His manager paused. “...It’s business, Franco.”

“C’mon,” he said, “you knew about this, and you didn’t say anything?”

“I thought you’d understand. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.”

“You knew that was too much.”

She sighed. “Yeah, okay, I took a gamble hoping you wouldn’t care and I lost. But that sponsorship money is coming out of your bonus.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to promote this overpriced shit anyway.”

“You’re the bane of my existence, kid,” his manager said, patting him on the back as she walked out of the room.

At the end of the day, all Franco could think about was coming home and collapsing in your arms. When his manager was mad at him—which was often, given his refusal to be media trained—it was his favorite way to destress. 

So when he arrived home and collapsed on top of you, interrupting whatever mindless show you had been watching, you just smiled to yourself. As he exhaled, you placed one hand through his soft curls, and threaded the other under the collar of his shirt to scratch his back. He melted into your touch.

“Hello,” you said, placing a kiss on his head. “Long day?”

“She’s mad at me again,” he murmured, closing his eyes. 

“What’d you do this time?”

“Why do you assume I did something?”

You softly chuckled, “Because I know you.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he pouted.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

He sighed. “I fucked up a sponsor contract. But really, it wasn’t my fault! They wanted me to pose with a bunch of models to sell their overpriced jewelry.”

You hummed. “I thought you liked doing photoshoots?”

“They’re fun, yeah, when they don’t want me to touch random women,” he frowned. You could hear the genuine disgust in his voice.

“I think you’re the only man in the world who would turn down the opportunity to be surrounded by models,” you laughed. 

He lifted his head up to look at you. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“Why would I want a bunch of random women touching on me when I have a girlfriend?”

You laughed again. “Because they’re models.” 

He gave you a look of confused disgust and said, “Oh, hush, YN. You’re the only woman I want within a hundred feet of me at any given time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that other women are beautiful.”

He looked at you sternly. “Um, no. This is when you tell me I’m not allowed to look at, let alone touch, anyone other than you.”

“Franco, you know I’m not like that.”

“You are, though! What has gotten into you, lately?”

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m fine.”

Franco sighed. “No, you’re clearly not. What do I have to do for you to understand that you are the only woman in this world that matters to me? I don’t care what you say, you are the only one I want, the most beautiful girl in the world—”

He leaned up to kiss you, but you dodged his affection.

“Hey!” he protested. You got up from the couch, feeling overwhelmed by the whole interaction. 

“YN, come back—” you just ignored him as you went back to your shared bedroom, barricading yourself in the attached bathroom and exhaling. 

Franco was right. The insecurity had been eating at you for weeks, and somehow, Franco’s commitment to trying to make you feel better had made it worse. Most girls would be happy that their boyfriend (especially their young, famous, athlete boyfriend) wanted nothing to do with other women. But somehow, it just made you fear the worst—when Franco finally saw you as you saw yourself, and you became nothing more than just another one of the many women he ignored.

“YN, come out and talk to me,” you heard him softly plead from outside the door.

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute,” you said through the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“No need to apologize, take all the time you need,” he said. “But when you’re done, promise you’ll come talk to me about it?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah,” you answered weakly.

“Okay,” he said. You could hear how he pressed his forehead to the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your voice was shaking.

You just needed 5 minutes to breathe and calm down alone. That’s what you told yourself as you took another deep breath and wiped away the tears that now spilled over the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered to yourself. “I’m okay, it’s okay. It’s okay.” You’d say it until it was true. 

When you'd finally calmed down somewhat, you still waited in the bathroom, not wanting Franco to see your puffy, bloodshot eyes, the evidence of your tears. But he knew you were crying. And he knew you’d keep your word and talk to him when you were ready.

He knew you inside and out. So when you silently emerged from the bathroom and found him in the kitchen washing dishes, he knew no words were needed. You slipped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his back as he turned the water off and dried his hands.

He turned around and met your embrace, holding your head beneath his chin and enveloping you in his strong arms. His tender touch brought the tears back.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“No,” you corrected. “You’re so good to me. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“It breaks my heart to see you hurting like this. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

“Just hold me,” you said, burying your head deeper into his chest, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne and the warm comfort of his breath rising and falling. 

The next day, Franco woke before you, spending a moment staring at your sleeping form before he had to get up and leave for the day. 

He knew you had been struggling, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand how your mind saw something so much more different than his saw. It broke him to know you thought of yourself so negatively.

But he’d hold you all day everyday if it meant it helped even a little bit. He would do anything.

So, when your alarm began screeching and you lazily turned it off, he let you sleep in, simply pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he went into yet another one of endless meetings with his manager before the season started.

She walked in and slammed a stack of papers on the desk. “I don’t know how you keep getting away with this shit every fucking time,” she said.

Franco raised a brow. Her tone wasn’t angry, as he expected, but rather…frustrated?

“The contract,” she continued. “The rep called me last night. They want you to do the campaign no matter what. They’ll let you do it with YN.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yes. We’ll have to get her in here to sign the contract, then we’ve got fittings and we still need to set the date for the actual shoot…”

His manager’s voice faded into the background as Franco remembered the previous night. The idea of you, dolled up in designer clothes posing next to him, had excited him at first. Now, he was unsure if that would just make things worse.

He had to be…deliberate in bringing it up. At home that night, as you two ate dinner, he decided to choose his words very, very carefully. 

“So, you remember that contract I said I lost?”

“The designer stuff?” you asked. He nodded. 

“Yeah. Well, I…actually didn’t fuck it up as bad as I thought I did. They still want us to do the campaign.”

“That’s good. It’ll get your manager off your case.” Your gaze drifted to the plate of food in front of you. The unspoken question lingered in the air. 

“Please don’t be mad at me—” he began, but you cut him off. 

“Franco, you’re a professional. I trust you.”

“Well, um… they want you to model.”

You looked up at him, perplexed. “Me?”

“I showed them your social media.”

“And they want…me. To model for them.”

“Well, they want you to do the campaign with me, yes. And wear a dress of theirs to a fancy event or two.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a model. And all my followers are just your fans, anyway.”

“Other driver’s girlfriends have done it, why can’t you?” He put down his fork and looked you in the eye. “YN, I think this would be a great thing. I can show you off to the world, and they’ll dress you up and make you feel beautiful. You’re beautiful without it, of course, but you know what I mean. I can’t make you say yes, but I’d love to do this with you.”

You took a beat to think. You couldn’t deny that you wanted the experience of going to lavish galas in designer gowns and seeing Franco grace the covers of magazine and social media home pages. Besides, you thought, if you truly looked bad they could just photoshop you to hell and back.

“Okay,” you answered, “let’s do it.”

So, a few weeks later, you found yourself in one of those cloth chairs that you had only seen in movies, having powder liberally applied to your face by a makeup artist. 

“The heavy makeup is just for the lights. They’re warm and harsh, so it’ll drown you out and make you look greasy if we don’t apply this much.”

You hummed in response, afraid to move your face. “I can tell this is your first time,” the artist said. “Just relax and let us work our magic, yeah? When they all say celebrities are fake, this is what they mean.”

You would have chuckled if you weren’t already sweating with nervousness. “Close your eyes,” she said, and you obeyed, only flinching as she generously sprayed setting spray over your makeup. 

“Alrighty, off to hair for you.”

Hair was the same—a nervousness that clearly identified you as an outsider to this world of glitz and glamor. You coughed when she nearly drowned you in hairspray. 

Then it was time for the final touches, the dress and jewelry. 

You gasped as they brought it out. A long silver satin gown, custom measured to hug your curves perfectly. Your neck was adorned with diamonds, your lips blood red, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulders. 

When you finally made it into the studio, Franco was already there, clad in a simple yet elegant black suit to contrast against the shiny fabric of your dress. He wasn’t facing you when you first entered, but hearing the click of your heels against the wooden floors, he turned and stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh my God,” he exhaled. “You look…” He was, quite literally, speechless.

You let out an awkward laugh, unused to having so much attention on you. 

“Amazing!” the brand rep said. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

And that, you did. The first shots were simple: you resting your arms on a chair while Franco sat, looking off into the distance, his perfect side profile on display. Both of you staring down the camera, arms placed in dynamic positions. 

Then you switched to the more sensual shots. Franco kneeled before you, kissing your hand, allowing you to show off the ring they had placed to contrast your black gloves. Another one, a shot of you holding his cheek as he gazed up at you in admiration. 

Then you switched, with him taking the more dominant role in the poses. His hand around your neck, showing off his own ridiculously expensive rings, as you tilted your head upwards towards him and he glared at the camera. A shot of Franco holding you up against a wall; his arm was draped above you to show off a watch, but his other hand found your waist and his head was turned as if to kiss you while you stared at the camera.

“Okay, play with the pose a bit,” the photographer instructed. “Let’s get some candids.”

You turned away from the camera, trying to ignore the incessant clicking and flashing in the background.

He smiled. “Hi, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling as well. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Franco leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “I really want to rip this dress off you.”

“Franco!”

“Oh, that was good!” the photographer yelled. “Whatever you said, do it again, her expression was golden.”

You laughed as you both repositioned, standing in front of the dark backdrop. 

“How much will it cost if I damage this dress?” Franco asked, looking at the photographer.

“Probably more than quadruple my salary,” the photographer laughed. “So please don’t.”

“But I have an idea. Just hear me out.”

Franco leaned down and gripped the strap of your dress in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you and a thousand clicks of the camera. 

His most bold suggestion, though, was the shot from the floor; he laid down and had you crawl on his chest and kneel above his head, draping his shoulders in the luxurious fabric and showing off your bedazzled garter beneath a silt in the dress. Though the photo would only expose a little bit of thigh, you couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline that the position gave you. 

When the shoot was over, it hurt your heart a bit to have to take off the dress and jewelry. Franco could tell. A sad smile painted your face as they carefully removed the diamonds from your neck and ears. But the one that hurt most was the gorgeous diamond ring, which you gently slipped off your gloved finger with a pang of sadness.

Franco was right; it had been fun to dress up and show off, but it was over now. So you said a silent goodbye to this false world of luxury as you walked off to the dressing room, and Franco went over to the brand rep who was packing up your jewelry. 

“A lovely job, both of you!” he said. “I’ll admit, I was hesitant at first, but you all definitely proved me wrong. These photos will come out amazingly.”

“How much is the ring?” Franco asked, gesturing to the lockbox that it was now hidden away in. 

“Ah, I could tell she liked it. Are you thinking of popping the question soon?”

“Ah, well…” Franco said, nervous now. It hadn’t occurred to him that it was an engagement ring. 

The rep laughed. “Well, this one’s from the new collection, expertly crafted. Usually goes for around $130,000, but that’s just with the base without any modifications.”

Franco choked on his own saliva. He certainly wasn’t making that much money yet, and besides, he didn’t know if his little working-class heart could ever justify spending that much money on a shiny rock. 

But for you? Anything. 

The rep could sense his hesitation. “Well, if you decide to go for it, here’s my card. Maybe we can work something out.” Franco nodded and accepted the card, stowing it away in his wallet after he changed out of his suit. 

Once you arrived home, the mountain of makeup and hairspray that you were both still covered in acted as the perfect excuse for a shower together.

As Franco lathered shampoo into your hair, he whispered, “You looked beautiful today.”

You smiled. “I felt beautiful.”

The photos were released a few weeks later, sending the internet into chaos. 

YN!?!?!?! CAN FRANCO FIGHT?

Does YN know that we’d all kill to be her right now

The hand placement!! The look in his eyes!!! That man is IN LOVE!!!!!

You chuckled to yourself as you read through the comments on your Instagram post. 

You saw the most important comment: the one from Franco. 

Eres el amor de mi vida <3 

You felt butterflies rise up in your stomach as you tapped the little heart to like the comment, as if that same man wasn’t taking you to the F1 Grand Prix Gala in Monaco tonight. 

You wanted nothing more than to walk in on his arm, basking in the glow of the photoshoot. It wasn’t just the glamor of the shots or the makeup that made you feel better; it was Franco. The way he looked at you like you were a goddess—you finally understood what he meant when he said he wanted you to see yourself as he saw you. 

As you donned the loaned dress from the same brand—less extravagant than the gown from the shoot, but still gorgeous—you were so thankful you had let Franco talk you into this. 

Everyone was abuzz at the event, and you were getting kudos left and right from strangers, which was slightly embarrassing, but you soaked in the attention anyway. But the best feeling was your lover’s hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the crowded ballroom.

You stepped out onto an empty balcony, drinking in the clear night air, now alone from the crowd. Of course, he followed like a lost puppy. 

“Mi amor,” he said as you leaned against the ledge, “I don’t know what’s more beautiful, you or the night sky.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “That’s too much, even for you.” 

“Maybe,” he joked. “And, maybe, we should get out of here. I’m tired of pretending to like all these old rich people.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You two sped home, where Franco wasted no time taking off your dress and decorating the floor with it.

“Let me worship you,” he said, grazing his lips over the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Don’t you already?” you joked, evidence of your returned confidence.

“I do,” he said, “because you’re divine. I want to taste you.” He grabbed your panties with his teeth, pulling them down slowly, enjoying the burning desire you both felt as his skin grazed against yours. 

But even now that he had you fully undressed, he still teased you, gently kissing your thighs, looking up into your eyes with every kiss. You pushed his hair back, softly inhaling with every inch of skin that his mouth touched. 

“Franco…”

“Mi ángel,” he exhaled. “Mi reina, mi cielo, mi vida.”

With a featherlight touch, he brought his mouth to your wetness, kissing your clit before rolling his tongue around the soaked bundle of nerves. Your breath hitched.

He brought two fingers to your entrance, teasing you until you were dripping with want for him. “You’re perfect. So perfect for me.”

His praise felt like your native tongue, the way your bodies and words naturally curved to each other, fitting together like you were made for this. 

He echoed your thoughts, continuing, “You take me so well.” He curled his fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside of you that made you see stars, eliciting a moan. 

“I live to pleasure you, mi amor.” He brought his mouth back to your clit, pointing his tongue and swirling circles around it as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. 

You squirmed under him, overcome by the pleasure of both his hands and his words. As he continued his movements, he never shifted his gaze from you.

But you looked away, to the mirror in the corner that had been moved as you got ready. You had a perfect view of Franco pleasuring you, and God, was the sight beautiful. 

Franco saw you looking and stopped, eliciting a frustrated whine from you. 

“Come here,” he said, climbing on the bed. “Keep facing the mirror.” He positioned himself behind you, grabbing your chin to keep your face straight as you both gazed at your reflections. “I want you to watch me fuck you. I want you to see how perfect you look when I take you.”

You wordlessly nodded, loving the vulnerability of being at the mercy of the man who worshipped you. 

As Franco unwrapped and put on a condom behind you, you studied the patches of red that colored your cheeks, flushed from your lover having nearly brought you to the brink of orgasm only moments before. 

He spanked you and you playfully yelped. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off this mirror.”

“What if I do?” you asked. “Will you punish me?”

He spanked you again, the other side this time. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Then, slowly, he placed his hands on your hips and found his way to your entrance, filling you with a swift but gentle motion. You both let out a low moan. 

“Even your pussy is perfect,” he said as he began to move. “Taking every inch of me.”

“Yes,” you moaned. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, increasing his pace and intensity, making you scream. “I want to fuck this pussy every day for the rest of my life.”

His words went through one ear and out the other; you couldn’t focus with his fucking you into the mattress with every thrust.

You cried and closed your eyes, hanging your head as you tried to hold back the waves of pleasure that were building in your core. But Franco roughly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back up.

“What did I tell you? Look at yourself, getting fucked like the perfect little whore you are.” You loved it when Franco was a little rough with you, but combined with the praise, it nearly sent you over the edge.

“Now,” he said, slowing down his pace, “since you didn’t do what I told you, you don’t get to cum.”

You whined in protest as Franco pulled out, leaving you feeling cold and empty. “Please,” you begged. 

He laid down on the bed. “If you want it, do it yourself,” he teased. “Ride me. If you want to cum, you have to watch as you make yourself cum on my cock.” 

You didn't argue, instead just obeying and sinking yourself down on him. You watched in the mirror as he disappeared in you, mesmerized by the way your bodies connected. 

His hands found your waist again as you began to bounce on him, chasing your release with an relentless pace. 

“Fuck, Franco, I’m close—” you moaned, and you felt his hand come down hard on your ass again. 

“Are you watching?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell me how beautiful you look.” If he had said this at any time other than in the heat of your passion, you would have cringed. But now, moments away from an orgasm, you obeyed.

“I fit perfectly on top of you,” you began with a shaky voice. “And I look…I look perfect riding your cock.”

“What else?”

“I look beautiful covered in your love bites.”

“Good girl,” he growled, matching your pace, fucking up into you. “My perfect, beautiful girl.”

With his final statement of praise, you shook, letting yourself drown in waves of pleasure as he continued fucking you through it. 

He had switched back to Spanish now, babbling away what you assumed to be your praises as he chased his own orgasm, quickly finishing from the heavenly feeling of your walls gripping around him. 

When you all collapsed in a pile next to each other, he threw an arm around you, wordlessly holding you in his embrace. His words could never truly make it better, he knew that.

But thankfully, his words weren't needed anymore. Now, you believed him. 

[yerions]

── jimin’s body. ( yjm ) 🔪

๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…

pair/genre: popular!jimin ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jimin is your childhood best friend, yandere/succubus!jimin, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, g!p jimin, piv, fingering, oral, rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.4k+

you can also read the jay ver of this fic here

**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!

[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“you should come.” jimin’s figure hovered over your desk, her face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” her former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.

you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for her, jimin constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and she’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.

“jiminie, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind her yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if she didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering her dumb little offer.

for the past hour or so she’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with her. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie boy band, ‘lucid dream’, is going to be performing there tonight. jimin would always rave about their music once she discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.

“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” she whines, dragging out her words which only made her sound even more immature. she’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”

her snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jimin were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jimin refused to never leave your side— ever.

you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with her over the years, yet she’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why she’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. she’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst her peers— and especially with men, of course.

jimin will never admit it out loud, but she’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention she was blessed with a well above average face that she used to her advantage quite a bit. she’d often came off as overly arrogant and crude to most people, she honestly had no filter when it came to voicing her own opinions; but that was the allure of her, made her charm even more magnetic to the dozens of guys (and girls) who’d fawn over her on a daily basis. she acted as though all eyes weren’t on her, yet she secretly relished it. if she wasn’t stroking her own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.

you glare at her, wishing she’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.

“soo, i’m guessing anton’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella bitchy all the time… must not be that good,” jimin couldn’t help but giggle to herself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”

if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating her ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jimin follows behind to continue on her rampant taunting spree.

“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of guys wave at her as you walked through the corridor, but she ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious snob she is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face her only to be met with a smug grin settled on her glossy lips. the fact she gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.

“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how she instantly lit up at your question. you knew she would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with her. anything to get her to finally shut up..

“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jimin caged her arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” she quickly adds.

“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by her critique of your clothing choices.

“really ?” she spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”

you flat out ignore her comments. not even wanting to entertain her bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jimin say whatever she wants was the best option, which is why she always gets away with it. she’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back on the sidelines and let her menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to her but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to her having an irrational outburst.

“i gotta go find anton, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.

“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jimin’s features, there was no inherent issue she had with anton— just didn’t really like the guy. she felt as though she was slowly being replaced by him, which is why she latched onto you even more than ever.

once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.

“hey babe,” anton happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”

“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jimin was the reason for your semi-tardiness.

“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.

“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jimin tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing her up. it’s always jimin, jimin, jimin— this was really beginning to irritate him.

“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jimin would always beat him to it. anton truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.

“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but anton still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jimin for the whole night instead of him.

you know that anton never really liked jimin, and jimin also never really liked anton either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. anton was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jimin however… she was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into her studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with her, you never knew exactly when she’d go off.

“yeah only for like two hours..” anton sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jimin tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with her more than me..”

“that’s not true !” you fire back, “she’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jimin both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.

“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” anton jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.

๑ ๑ ๑

“so.. which one is she stalking online again ?” anton asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jimin’s new obsession with this boy band.

“the lead singer of this band, she said he’s like ‘100% her type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jimin would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.

“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why she couldn’t just go with someone else or by herself. she doesn’t need you there..”

you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jimin.

you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but she’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jimin, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.

“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” anton sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.

you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jimin !��

you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s smiling ear to ear, throwing your arms around her shoulders to embrace her in a hug.

“i see you actually took my advice,” jimin says proudly, staring down your whole body as she examines your outfit, “are we good to go ?” she asks, looking effortlessly stunning in a denim mini skirt and a cropped tee that she bought from hot topic.

“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jimin got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…

“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” anton grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jimin that she wasn’t the only one in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.

jimin scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” she shoots back in her usual condescending tone, anton was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.

“listen, i’ve had it with yo—”

“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”

jimin’s demeanor softens the minute she hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped her out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” she links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of her car keys clashing together as she swung them around with her free hand.

a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating anton. jimin has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, she’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how she is. though sometimes, she’d take things a step too far. whenever she feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from her, she does everything in her power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jimin have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and she isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, she’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.

that was until you met your boyfriend anton of course, jimin rarely ever conversed with him nor was she ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jimin would’ve approved of anyone you date, she was harder to please than your own parents and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jimin were to magically show up with a boyfriend/girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing her you’ve never seen her date a single soul, she could literally have anyone she wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near her. yet she didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, she preferred her own solitude; except when she’s around you, that is.

๑ ๑ ๑

you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jimin walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jimin kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of sorority girls you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush minjeong, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought she was way out of your league, plus she was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.

you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text anton who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few guys who tried talking to jimin but she seemed quite unamused by them, her mission was to talk to this band that she’s been fangirling over, you’ve never seen her this excited over anything.

“come with me,” jimin suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with her. she was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as she always did. there were a total of 5 men, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.

jimin makes the first move, introducing herself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jimin and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” she sounded like such a groupie, you never took her as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.

a man with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since he held a microphone in his hand, “nice to meet you, i’m skyler, but you can call me sky. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jimin nods, looking at him as if he held the key to a world she’s never seen before.

“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jimin asks, hoping to give off the impression that she’s older than she actually is.

“sure, thanks.” he replied, winking at her as he prepares to set up for the performance.

“great, i’ll be back right !” she turns around in a flash, tagging you along with her for the journey.

“uh, jimin we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind her, confused as how she was going to even pull this off, but she shuts down your doubtful attitude.

“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” she makes her way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact she may or may not be denied.

as jimin was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, skyler aka sky, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.

“yeah that jimin girl’s definitely a virgin, she talks big game but i bet she wouldn’t even let anyone touch her..” he chuckles to his bandmates. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was she being overly friendly with them but they were taking her kindness as a sign of weakness.

“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, asshole !” you intervened, quickly coming to her defense, “whether she is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and she’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some douchebags like you.” you couldn’t believe half those words even came out of your mouth, but when it came to jimin, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about her like that.

“what’s going on ?” jimin interrupts, coming back with the drinks as she noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.

“they were just talking about you !” you point over to those shady men, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”

“oh.. i mean does losing my anal virginity in the locker rooms count ??” she jokes, snickering to herself when she remembers that moment.

you face palm, “that’s not the point, jimin !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if she was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ? were they planning on doing something to her ?

before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. sky went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘dying roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.

as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jimin who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jimin who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..

not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jimin was following behind you still but she wasn’t, she was gone. and so was the band.

you shouted her name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jimin. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.

surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.

you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..

anxiety struck through you when you realize jimin was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jimin was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.

“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jimin’s voice, turning around to face her. you couldn’t believe it was really her, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around her, holding her tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.

“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.

“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” she didn’t sound like her usual self, this time she was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.

“oh thank god you two are alright !” sky, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” he proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.

you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jimin !” you grab her hand but she doesn’t follow along.

“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” she says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other guys.

“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe she’d choose them over you, even if she was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for her to leave with them rather than her own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.

“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” sky rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jimin, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with a group of strange men that she just met.

you’re steady calling after her but she doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…

๑ ๑ ๑

it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jimin. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if she needed your help and you left her all alone to fend for herself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. she was probably having the time of her life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of her leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could she have done this to you ? maybe she really was this self-centered, conniving woman that anton always painted her out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting her leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jimin will be fine.

you decide to call anton, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.

“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.

“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.

“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.

you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”

“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.

“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.

“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.

“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…

“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”

“jimin left with that band but i told her not to.. she hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save her !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.

“who cares about jimin ! people died !” anton was baffled by how you were still only thinking about her when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.

he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jimin is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as her. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue her. there was no real proof that she’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..

that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.

“shh, wait— ton, i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.

“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.

“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.

the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.

finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.

you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.

…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?

“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.

“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” anton warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.

the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.

you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jimin, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.

“anton.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.

“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the girl who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.

she looked more than unwell, as if she had just survived the most brutal attack of her life. her actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as she mindlessly consumed whatever she could find in her wake. she came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with her bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that she was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.

“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.

upon hearing your startled voice, she stopped eating and averts her gaze to you. her eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout her whatsoever, looking at you as if she’s never seen you before. instead of getting up she crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in her odd aura, she began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if she were trying to get something to leave out of her body. that’s when she starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.

“jimin, what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at her but it was no use. she was never going to answer you, it was like she was possessed by some kind of spirit.

she finally got up on her feet, never breaking eye contact with you; her dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jimin could smell the fear you emitted, it only made her want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from her presence, but of course she doesn’t let you do that. she only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. she grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. she remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.

you whimpered in fear, but she keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” she whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. she only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating her saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.

she wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if she just now was able to acknowledge what she’s done. her breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though she couldn’t control her own body anymore. before you could do anything, she swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.

“jimin !” you try to call after her, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.

you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.

๑ ๑ ๑

the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jimin, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as she normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jimin was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in her laughter as she heard the professor speak, you roughly nudged her arm with your elbow in response to her apathy.

“this isn’t funny..” you scold her for acting so insensitively, “people died, jimin ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”

she rolls her eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”

how could she even say something like that ? especially knowing that she knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.

“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at her as if she’s gone mad, which she quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to her yet but you were reluctant on doing so, she’d probably deny everything anyway.

“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. are you on your period or something ?” she wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, she saw it as one big mockery.

you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jimin was the type to never wear her emotions on her sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how she didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.

“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jimin quickly comments, she was irritating you the more she kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing her out and giving her hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..

your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?

once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jimin followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to her. you debated on confronting her about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.

you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jimin left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way she looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on her face, like she was going to rip your heart out of your body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.

even if you did tell her what happened, there’s a slim chance she’d take any responsibility for her own actions. her pride would never let her. you remember when you were kids she’d always make you get into so much trouble with her, but the minute you two got caught she’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jimin was always able to manipulate her way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with her that she was one, to which she’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as she is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?

๑ ๑ ๑

jimin would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. she’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. she’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for her liking, she’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with anton. she only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm herself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into her lately, but she surely hasn’t been acting like herself ever since she interacted with that band.

a month has flown by and you notice jimin was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under her eyes made it seem as though she hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. she looked like death. as if her own flesh was eating her from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for her to change this drastically. she resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. she lost a lot of weight as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of herself. it truly pained you to see her in such a state, how sunken in her face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..

“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”

“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jimin replied, her tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.

obviously you don’t take her word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want her to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.

the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be sungchan, the hot and most beloved captain of the football team. his organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of his corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of his disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on his rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.

this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for him just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of him. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.

when you spoke to jimin about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but she told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe she was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.

you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. he was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought his death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to sungchan a day in your life but he was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess him of all people would end up with a fate like this.

as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates wonbin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set him up with jimin. you’ve known for a while that he’s always had a thing for her and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for him. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that she’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling him that you’ll talk to jimin, although you couldn’t make any promises.

upon meeting up with jimin later on in the day, you proposed the idea to her, but of course, she declined almost straight away saying she wasn’t interested. she referred to him as that ‘weird, stoner goth dude who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected her to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jimin always has to ruin it…

however, not even an hour later, she ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in her brain. you thought it was a bit strange how she’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for wonbin, at least he’d get to spend some alone time with his crush.

you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and anton were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating anton, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..

๑ ๑ ๑

your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.

everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..

you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.

numbness.. that’s all you felt..

you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.

everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.

he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jimin. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.

“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.

“did i do something wrong ?” anton asks, confused by your sudden coldness.

you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jimin’s dorm, not knowing whether she’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.

in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jimin, her clothes stained in blood just like night she was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help her but she was no longer there anymore, as if she’s vanished into thin air.

confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jimin sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on her anymore.

“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at her over the rim of your glasses.

“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” she smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than she did when you saw her earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”

“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jimin.” you didn’t have time for her little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.

“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” she pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as she had no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that she went through your stuff without even asking.

she doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think she would. instead, jimin harshly pressed her lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of hers. she managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as she savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed her back, whimpering at the feel of her tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving her just enough leeway for her to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. she kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.

her lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into her messy, raven locks. jimin would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. she explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like she wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. she felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with her teeth— but she resisted, at least not yet anyway.

when her hands came up to find your hips, her touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you’re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of her, shouting in protest.

“jimin, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at her anymore.

“language y/n !” she giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking her lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”

“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” she takes a dramatically long pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”

you look at her strangely, unsure of what she fully meant by that, “what is it..”

“i’m dead.”

now you’re staring at her as if she just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.

“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”

“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” she casually says if she were simply talking about the weather.

“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where she was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.

“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” she repeats nonchalantly.

“jimin, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with her by the second.

“it’s true, i swear !”

“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of her little shenanigans, ready to walk away from her but she grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet her gaze.

“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” she pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.

“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing her out.

“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” she explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” she proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.

“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”

she cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when sky and his little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some guy on the opposite side of the pavement, he looked quite edible so i ate him. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”

you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything she just told you. there’s no way she could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life, yu jimin.”

she seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking her words seriously, but she kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”

“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming her very weird, but oddly specific narrative.

jimin nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”

“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed sungchan ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least she had nothing to do with it, but if what she is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.

she nods again, “yep. and wonbin.”

your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”

“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with him just to eat him. so it’s practically your fault that he’s dead.” she shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.

you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.

“you’re a fucking monster.. he had a whole life ahead of him. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”

“well, now he’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jimin shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.

“anyway, wanna see something cool?” she asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave her the most questionable look of all mankind.

“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” she takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into her own wrist, she was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if she didn’t just stab herself at all.

“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” she says like a giddy school kid, bragging over her new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”

again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?

“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” she finally admits to the night when she went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” her eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.

“jimin, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.

she doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” she strokes your hand with hers, not even fully understanding the gravity of what she’s done or said this whole time.

“jimin you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from her touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?

“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jimin clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as she forced herself on top of you.

you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of her hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.

“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see her staring straight into your soul.

“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” she answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” she slid her index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer, her lips only centimeters away from yours.

“jimin no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” she darkly chuckles, tilting her head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. she pulls her hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”

you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way she spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that she casted.

you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to her ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when she has you trapped between her body and your mattress, her fingers gripping your neck, her lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? she practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course she’d be able to tell…

she kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, her tongue dominating yours easily. she nudges your legs open with her knee, her other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that her tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

she grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with her fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when she slowly rubs the pad of her middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by her mouth on yours. the moment only brief until she dips her hand into your underwear.

you try to make her stop by grabbing ahold of her wrist, pulling away from her lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes her giggle in response.

“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” she softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”

you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged her, but now that she said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?

“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” her dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jimin speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, she was going to make sure that anton could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like she always does.

she’s not waiting for a response as she starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.

jimin then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of hers doesn’t go on for too long as she pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of her fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when she adds a second digit.

“i know, i know,” she whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming her words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

when she says this, you have a hard time believing her. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..

she begins moving her fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with her thumb at the same time. she’d curls her fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as she thrusts into you at a regular pace.

tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…

“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jimin murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when she tells you this.

she unwraps her hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around her shoulder. you now feel her fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where her left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until she’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.

“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jimin’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

you’d probably be more aware of how hard she was if it weren’t trapped in her loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jimin fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time she thrusts in.

“that’s it, baby,” she coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” she asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”

you hate her questions— you hate them so damn much. she knows how you feel, but she wants you to say it, she wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“g-good.”

“yeah?” she breathes out, fucking your cunt with her fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.

“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into her forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.

jimin helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what she’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“good girl,” she praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”

she still has her head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jimin retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

she could simply stop there, but she won’t— not until she fully got what she wanted, she needs more…

she pulls her hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” she instructs.

you glance at her hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for her.

you then reluctantly open your mouth and she enters her wet fingers in.

“suck,” she adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of her orders, and you do so without a second thought.

she stares down at you while you lick her fingers clean and she slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.

she removes her fingers from your mouth only to put them in her own after. “just as sweet as you are,” she grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”

your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye her stiff erection through her pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm her in your grasp. she hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for her.

you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free her cock from the confines of her pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against her stomach. jimin was huge. her veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of her in your tiny mouth.

her length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of her and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of her precum against your tongue.

“fuck… feel so good around me already,” she bit her lip harshly, gripping the sheets as she groans with pleasure.

you wrap your mouth tighter around her length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on her cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jimin’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.

she let out a low moan when her length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of her in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking her made her want to combust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around her.

“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” she keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. she does her best not to keep her eyes off you but she wanted to shut her eyes from how good you were making her feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking her cock with your pretty, talented mouth, she elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make her cum faster.

jimin bit her lip even harder, trying so hard not to close her eyes, taking in shallow breaths. she could feel herself getting closer and her whole body tenses up like she’s got a volcano erupting inside her.

“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”

you couldn’t say anything since her cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting her to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, she matches your movements with her hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for yu jimin.

you feel her thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of her cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at her, drinking up all her cum. surprisingly, she tasted really good, emptying every last drop of her, once you finally pulled away she orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for her. you only hesitated for a second, looking at her credulously before doing what she asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.

“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jimin stroking herself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for her.

“gonna put my cock inside you ?” she finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”

you stop breathing at her answer, sensing her deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. she gives a couple more pumps before aligning herself with your dripping wet entrance. her free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“careful, sweetheart,” she says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” she swipes the head of her cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.

you can’t see her length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see her chest and hips moving as she pushes her cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and she was right. this hurts way more than her fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.

“jimin-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.

she hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of her and the way you say her name with eyes full of tears. when she bottoms out inside of you, her pelvis flushed against your ass, she lets out a low grunt and throws her head back, closing her eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. she deliberately pounded into you, like she wanted everyone near to know just how badly she was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like she wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.

you involuntarily clench around her, making her tighten her grip on your hip. she thrusts herself deeper into you, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time she bottoms out, jimin makes sure the skin of her thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

your wetness allows her to fuck her cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming her so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for her to not hit your sweet spot, and she reaches so much deeper when she lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jimin’s drilling her hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like she needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

you’re breathing heavily, and so is she, feeling her hot breath fanning against your neck when she tilts her head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear her breathing now as well as her deep grunts that leave her mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around her, literally sucking her right in.

“shit,” she curses out as she pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against her pelvis.

she kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under her soft lips. she leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling her to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. you shouldn’t be enjoying any of this but it’s honestly arousing you so much.. jimin lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so she can look at your face.

your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for her, her breathing being irregular and heavy. she didn’t think she would ever need something that badly, which is making you hers, surprisingly enough. making you hers in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jimin doesn’t care, she just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jimin feels it very clearly, your walls hugging her cock terribly tightly, bringing her closer to her own orgasm as well.

“please.. jimin, so good..”

“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” she captured your waist pulling you closer into her. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”

“holy fuck,” she hisses, her hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying her cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”

she stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching her breath. she then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess she made of you.

but she wasn’t done just yet, she wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of her. her fingers, her cock, and now her tongue.

“just need another taste..” jimin couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all she wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.

she bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath her tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. she had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on her tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that she’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.

she continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for her. you grind against her face and jimin couldn’t help but moan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. her tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of her against you.

her mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jimin slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as she stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. she soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.

the combination of jimin’s tongue and fingers, along with her lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around her fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which she gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.

tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for her. the tips of her fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting her lip as she watches you come undone for her all over again. her thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into her touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..

your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over her fingers, wetness squirting all over jimin’s forearm and thighs.

“jimin…” you said her name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if she’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was her name.

๑ ๑ ๑

a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?

some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.

jimin was no exception to this rule. she knew exactly how to use her beauty and charisma to get anyone to fall for her tricks. she didn’t need to put in too much effort or seek anyone out because they’d always come to her. it was almost too easy, she had a whole line of men at her disposal on campus, all of which could soon become her next meal. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.

wonbin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, he was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.

some of his internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like sungchan was. his body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify him at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on his bedroom mirror. some were even saying that he looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.

there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.

while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jimin’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that she’s a succubus; a female demon that has sexual activity with other men. she was at her weakest state whenever she’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain her lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.

“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” anton rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.

“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.

“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.

you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…

“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell anton. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.

so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jimin, how she was brutally murdered and left for dead by that boy band who used her as a ‘virgin’ sacrifice, you told him about how she was there in your kitchen, and how she ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in her wake. you felt so sure of yourself that anton would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.

“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jimin confessed to you.

“i’m telling the truth anton, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.

“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.

“anton, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.

“she’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for her !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but anton’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…

“look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.

you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”

his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”

“i bet jimin put you up to this, didn’t she ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jimin conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what she always would’ve wanted, and now anton feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.

you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.

“are you really too blinded to see? she’s always been a bad influence on you..” anton was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jimin. “if she told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, she’s got you wrapped around her finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”

you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jimin, but you weren’t just going to let anton talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.

“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.

on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving anton all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.

๑ ๑ ๑

the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with anton, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see anton which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jimin anywhere either.

you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jimin’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jimin’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but she gave you one.

during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jimin for comfort, finding solace in one another.

jimin could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. her father left before she was even born and her mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. she despised every single one of those men who’d come into her home, sometimes her mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing her to grow up at such a young age and take care of herself. she wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with her own bare hands. maybe that’s why she’d act out so much, she was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs, or the scars. just labeled as a pretty face with ugly intentions. you never saw her that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, her saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually she got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.

a part of you still wants to believe that she’s that same naïve little girl you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for her, even if she was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jimin simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions she once made you feel— you were slipping right through her fingers. you were all she had left. and she wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.

๑ ๑ ๑

an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that anton could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jimin, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jimin, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.

you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jimin who seems to have found her next victim— your ex boyfriend.

“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing her off of anton, tackling jimin onto the floor.

“why’re you doing this to innocent people ?!” you had held some hope that jimin wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..

“i’m killing boys, there’s a big difference,” she devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off her lower lip with the back of her hand.

jimin throws you off of her, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards her before she could get back to the work of her own brutality.

“y’know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to her with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”

jimin chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” she shrugged.

“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of her before she could take another bite out of anton’s shoulder.

using all your strength, you’d shoved her into the pool, submerging her into the water, attempting to drown her, but those efforts were futile when she regains control. she pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, heavy against your skull.

it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.

you had to get her off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.

and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both anton and jimin wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. anton was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jimin stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through her stomach.

“you son of a fucking bitch…” she mutters, remaining still for a second, as if she was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left her lips, sucking in air through her teeth to appease the pain as much as she can. she’d slowly but surely drop to her knees, and a few seconds later she’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of her own blood.

you go up to anton, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.

“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” anton weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.

you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jimin was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for her. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or her that was going to end up dead tonight.

eventually you’d caught up to her in the woods, finding her at a nearby tree, as if she were waiting for you to come searching for her.

“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards her.

“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jimin laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to her, enjoying the thrill of it all.

“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” her head tilts as she asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.

you backed away as she kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at her, “you’re wrong, jimin. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”

“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on her face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. she was nothing but pure evil, and she knew it.

you couldn’t bear to listen to her speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.

“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jimin happily accepted your challenge with open arms.

she bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if she were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

she lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with her to try and get it back. you couldn’t let her win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into her chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards her chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” she bitterly spoke, repeating her words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…

“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at her to stop talking.

jimin could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if she wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.

“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at her in disgust, unable to see her as the same girl who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending someone you don’t even know anymore.

“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” she reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”

you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”

jimin didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made her want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but she’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is her.

she cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” she spoke to you softly. not even realizing she’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.

“jimin…” you say her name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets hers, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.

“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jimin sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”

her words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for anton, your undying love for jimin over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for her only grew once she’d connect her lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and her. along with the faint coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.

you know why you couldn’t kill her. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way she does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then she was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.

a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.

[potofsoup]

Yay in celebration for finally finishing my fic (Independent Variable, if you wanna read), I decided to draw some post-reconciliation Batfam + Roombie funtimes! [previous Roombie art here]

Some more random Roombie headcanons:

Tim never adds anything that elevates Roombie above standard roomba height, so Roo and Tim are both Team Height-challenged. It's great.

Roombie (Tim usually calls him Roo, though Jason starts calling them Roombit, Roombers, Roomberton the First, etc) goes by whatever pronouns people want to assign them, as long as it's not "it".

Yes, Tim has programmed Roo to recognize Jason's voice commands, since Jason hangs out at the apartment so much. He only sometimes regrets it. (Especially when he has to add more voice recognition files every time Jason invents a new nickname)

Roo doesn't usually leave Tim's apartment. They're kind of like Tim's friend, but also Tim's butler, lol. The Batfam get to know Roo when they come to visit. (And they visit often)

Yes Tim totally uploads some cat-engagement features to Roombie so that he can play with Alfred

Tim's place probably has a lot of Roombie-specific markings and rfid tags and stuff, so that Roo knows where to go

Babs loves visiting Tim's place because it's soooo wheelchair friendly (because it's also roomba-friendly!) I can imagine her getting her own roomba tbh, though maybe with cooler Babs upgrades.

Roo totally has a "shovel" attachment for when they have to really sort Tim's clothes and floor clutter.

Roo has lots of different beeps and chirp sounds, but only Tim understands all of them, since he's the one who programmed them. He refuses to add any voice features to Roo, because he wants to maintain the R2D2 vibes.

He did add "Exterminate!" in Dalek voice, for the convention, so if you're a legit intruder, please imagine a roomba charging aggressively at you with a taser, chirping angrily and also sporadically saying "Exterminate!!!"

[pathologicalreid]

separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

[ha-rinrin]

Torn Between Fire and Ice Sequel

Continuation of this fic, if you haven't read it, please do before reading this otherwise you won't understand most of it.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader (Caitlyns little sister)

Word count: 20k

Warning: smut

Authors note: well.. this took longer than expected. I got carried away and made it way to long, sorry for that, if this isn't what you expected I'm sorry to disappoint. To be honest, I’m not completely satisfied with it, but oh well—too late now.

materlist

You’re curled up on Jinx’s makeshift couch, nestled against her in the dim, cluttered space she calls home. Her arms are wrapped around you, holding you close like she’s afraid to let go. The familiar scent of gunpowder and paint clings to her clothes, grounding you in the chaos that somehow feels safer than anywhere else.

Jinx’s fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, her breath soft against your temple. For a while, neither of you speaks. The silence is comfortable, almost fragile—like if either of you says anything, it’ll shatter the small bubble you’ve created here. But after a moment, she tilts her head, her voice breaking through the quiet.

“So…” she says, her voice low, almost hesitant, “you going back home after this?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel the weight of it press down on your chest. Home. Back to Piltover, back to Caitlyn, back to the reality you’d been hiding from. You can still see the hurt in your sister’s eyes, the betrayal, the shock of seeing you with Jinx. It’s all too fresh, too raw, and just thinking about it makes your stomach twist.

But here, in Jinx’s arms, the choice doesn’t feel so simple. Here, you feel like you’re allowed to be who you are—no pretenses, no expectations. Just you, with her.

You sigh, resting your head against her shoulder. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Going back feels… complicated.” The words feel like an understatement, but they’re all you have for now.

Jinx goes quiet for a moment, her hand slowing in its gentle path along your arm. She doesn’t ask you to explain, doesn’t press you for more. Instead, she shifts slightly, tightening her arms around you in a silent show of support.

“Guess I’m pretty complicated too,” she says with a smirk, though her tone is softer, more thoughtful than usual. “Ain’t easy, sticking around with me.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a stray strand of blue hair from her face. “You’re complicated, sure. But… I’m not exactly in this for easy.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for once, there’s no glint of mischief, no teasing smirk—just a vulnerable, honest expression that she rarely lets anyone see. “I don’t wanna be the reason you lose everything,” she murmurs.

You shift a little closer, taking her hand in yours, your thumb tracing over her knuckles. The weight of her words settles in your chest, heavy and tender. It’s strange, seeing Jinx like this—unguarded, stripped of her bravado, and revealing the part of her that worries, that cares.

“You’re not,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “It’s not that simple. Caitlyn… she just doesn’t understand.”

Jinx lets out a bitter laugh, her fingers lacing with yours. “Yeah, can’t really blame her,” she mutters, her gaze slipping away, focusing on some far-off point in the room. “All she’s ever seen is… well, you know. The explosions, the chaos. The mess I leave behind.” She falls silent, her jaw clenched, and for a second, you can see the cracks beneath her tough exterior.

You shift, lifting her chin gently so she’s looking at you. “I don’t care what she thinks. I know who you are, Jinx. Who you are with me.”

Her eyes search yours, a flicker of doubt giving way to something softer, something almost hopeful. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it, like she can’t find the right words. Instead, she leans into you, resting her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

“I never thought I’d have this,” she whispers, her voice raw. “Someone who… who’s willing to look past all that. To stay.”

Her vulnerability pulls at something deep inside you, and you feel your own heart aching in response. You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing away the doubts, the fears that linger there. “I’m here,” you murmur against her skin. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Jinx lets out a shaky breath, her arms tightening around you like she’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Good,” she murmurs, her voice steadying as she pulls you closer, her head resting against your shoulder. “Because you’re the only thing that makes any of this make sense.”

Jinx shifts beside you, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve as if she’s trying to find the right words. After a moment, she glances up, her expression softer, more serious than usual.

“You know…” she starts, her voice hesitant. “Maybe… maybe you should go home. Just to grab some of your things.” Her fingers trace patterns on your arm as she speaks, her gaze focused on the movement. “I mean, if you don’t wanna go back for good, that’s fine. You can… stay here. With me. If you want.”

You blink, caught off guard by her offer. It’s not like Jinx to suggest something so practical, and the thought of staying here, of making this place your own hideaway with her, sends a strange warmth through you.

“You… you’d want that?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

She meets your gaze, and for once, there’s no teasing, no smirk—just an earnestness that makes your heart skip. “Look, I know this isn’t much.” She gestures to the cluttered room around you, a mix of salvaged gadgets, paint-splattered walls, and the faint scent of oil and metal. “But it’s real. And I’m here. So… if it’d help, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Long as you’re okay with all this mess.”

You can feel the vulnerability in her words, the unspoken fear that you’ll say no, that you’ll choose something safer, cleaner. But as you look around, you can’t help but smile. It may be chaotic, but it’s hers—warm and full of life in a way that nowhere else is.

“Yeah,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “I’d like that.”

Her eyes light up with a spark of relief, her lips curling into a genuine, lopsided grin. “Good. 'Cause I was worried you’d miss all your fancy Piltover stuff.”

You laugh, nudging her playfully. “I think I’ll survive. Besides, I can just grab a few things and bring them here.”

Jinx’s grin widens, her hand finding its way to your cheek as she leans in, her voice soft. “Then it’s settled. You’re staying with me.”

You slipped back into Piltover as discreetly as you could, taking a winding path through the quieter alleys to avoid any unwanted attention. With each step closer to your house, the memory of that last encounter with Caitlyn burned fresh in your mind—the cutting words, the anger in her eyes, the undeniable rift between you. You hesitated at your door, hand lingering on the handle, knowing that opening it meant facing everything you’d tried to leave behind in Zaun.

Steeling yourself, you stepped inside, the familiar space feeling strange now, as if you never belonged there in the first place. You moved quickly through the house, heading to your room, trying to gather the essentials. As you stuffed a few clothes into a bag, the silence grew louder, almost mocking you.

And then you heard footsteps behind you.

“You finally came back, huh?” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and accusatory. You spun around to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression a mix of concern and fury.

“I thought I told you to stay away from her!” she snapped, taking a step closer.

“And choosing Jinx is a mistake!” Caitlyn pressed, her voice rising. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. She’ll destroy you!”

“Maybe I don’t care,” you replied, a defiance sparking in your chest. “You don’t get to dictate my fucking life.” your fingers digging into your palm as if trying to anchor yourself against the wave of frustration threatening to drown you.

At that moment, your mom's voice broke in, steady and commanding, A knot twisted in your stomach. “What’s going on here?” Cassandra Kiramman stood at the threshold of your room, her presence imposing.

Caitlyn immediately turned to her, the anger shifting focus. “Mom, she’s been with that… that criminal. You have to do something!” Your shoulders tensed with each word that left her mouth.

Your mom’s brow furrowed, her eyes darting between you and Caitlyn. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“She's involved with Jinx,” Caitlyn spat, urgency lacing her tone. “Mom, you know what she’s done, what she is. This isn’t just a phase for her—this is dangerous!” You clenched your jaw tight, she didn't know Jinx like you did, if she did, she wouldn't be spitting shit.

Your mother’s expression shifted from surprise to alarm, the weight of her role on the council pressing down on her. “Jinx? You’re serious?” Her voice trembled slightly, a rare crack in her usual composure. “You know what she’s capable of. She thrives on chaos, and we all know it.”

“Cait, stop!” you interjected, your frustration flaring. “I’m not some helpless child. I can make my own choices.” your voice sharp with frustration as you squared your shoulders, hands curling into tense fists at your sides.

Your mom's eyes narrowed, her motherly instincts kicking in. “Choosing Jinx is a terrible decision! You can’t possibly understand the risks involved. She’s a criminal, a threat to everything we’ve worked for.”

“I’m not ignoring anything!” you retorted, the anger boiling over. “I know who she is, and I’m still choosing to be with her.” you retorted, your voice trembling.

Caitlyn shook her head, disbelief etched on her features. “You’re making a huge mistake. You’re putting yourself in danger—she’ll ruin you!”

“Enough!” your mom commanded, stepping into the room with an imposing presence. “This is not a game. Jinx is reckless and unpredictable. Do you really think you can handle her?”

Your heart raced, a mix of defiance and desperation swirling inside you. “I’m not a child anymore! get that through your head. I can decide for myself!”

“Is that what you really think this is all about?” Cassandra’s voice dropped, laced with a blend of fear and urgency. “I’ve seen what she can do. She’s not just a bad influence—she’ll drag you into a life of chaos and danger. You’re risking everything!”

Caitlyn stepped forward, anger blazing in her eyes. “You’re playing with fire! You’re risking your future for someone who doesn’t care about you. I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect me?!” you exclaimed, feeling the walls close in. “You’re just scared because you don’t understand our relationship!”

“Scared?” Caitlyn retorted, disbelief written all over her face. “No, I’m furious! I won’t stand by while you make a huge mistake!”

Your mom took a breath, her authority tinged with desperation. “This isn’t just about you; it’s about the danger Jinx represents. She’s hurt people—she’ll hurt you too!”

The air in the room thickened, the intensity palpable as you felt trapped between their concerns.

“I don’t need your protection!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the charged atmosphere. “I can handle myself!”

“You’re acting like this is some kind of romance when it’s a disaster waiting to happen!” Caitlyn shot back, her frustration bubbling over.

Caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes blazing with intensity. “This is about saving you from yourself. You deserve better than someone like her!”

Your mom’s gaze softened, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. “I love you. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. You know the council takes Jinx seriously. She’s a liability. You’re not thinking clearly!”

She took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with urgency. “If Jinx gets caught, I won’t be able to protect her. She’ll be sent to Stillwater without hesitation. And if you’re with her when it happens, you’ll be seen as an accomplice. Do you understand what that means for you?”

You could feel the weight of her words pressing down on you, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The thought of Jinx being locked away, isolated and forgotten in that prison, made your heart ache. But you couldn’t let that fear dictate your choices.

“I can’t let you do this,” you said, voice trembling. “I won’t let you ruin what I have with her.”

Caitlyn’s expression shifted, a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re not seeing how serious this is! You’re risking everything—your safety, your future! Jinx doesn’t care about you.”

Your mom interjected, her tone urgent. “This isn’t just a phase; this is your life. If she keeps this up, I will have no choice but to act. I won’t lose you to someone like her!”

The tension in the room was palpable as you felt trapped, your whole body shaking from all the emotions coursing through you.

“Maybe I’m willing to take that risk. Maybe I’d rather be with her than live a life dictated by fear,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice.

Caitlyn shook her head, rage flashing in her eyes. “You’re making a huge mistake. You’ll end up in Stillwater too—just for being close to her!”

Your mom stepped forward, her expression serious. “Think about what you’re saying. You’re putting yourself in a position where the council will see you as a threat. You could lose everything you’ve worked for, everything we’ve built as a family.”

As their words echoed in your mind, the weight of the consequences loomed larger. But in your heart, you knew one thing: you would fight for Jinx, no matter what it took.

You could see the desperation etched on Caitlyn's face, the genuine worry underlying her fury. And then there was your mom, her steady gaze trying to pierce through your defiance, a plea masked as authority.

“Do you really think Jinx will choose you over her own freedom?” Caitlyn pressed, her voice low but fierce. “She’s not some fairy tale character who’ll ride off into the sunset with you. She’s a criminal,a murderer,  and here you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words crashing down like a wave. “What do you want me to do? Just forget her? Pretend we never happened?”

“Yes!” Caitlyn exclaimed, her voice rising again. “It’s not about forgetting; it’s about surviving. Jinx will only bring you pain and danger. You have no idea what you're stepping into!”

“I’m not running away from my feelings,” you shot back, your voice growing more confident. “If Jinx is captured, then yes, I might suffer the consequences. But I’ll face those consequences knowing I stood by her.”

Your mom took a step forward, her eyes searching yours, pleading for understanding. “You think you’re prepared for what comes next? If she’s caught, they won’t just throw her in Stillwater; they’ll make an example of her. And if you’re involved, you’ll be branded a criminal too.”

Caitlyn interjected, her voice softer now but still urgent. “Please, think about your future. You’re on the brink of adulthood; you have your whole life ahead of you. Jinx won’t wait for you to figure things out. She’ll pull you into her world, and it’s not a world you want to be part of.”

You felt the weight of their concerns pressing in, but your heart was resolute. “Maybe I want to be part of that world. Jinx makes me feel alive in ways I never imagined.”

“Alive?” Caitlyn scoffed, disbelief etched across her features. “What kind of life is this? One filled with chaos, danger, and heartbreak? You need to see Jinx for who she really is.”

The tension in the room thickened, and for a moment, it felt like a standoff—two sides of a battlefield, each fighting for their version of the truth. Your mind raced with the potential consequences, yet all you could think about was Jinx, her wild laughter, her gentle caresses, and the moments you shared.

“Look,” you finally said, your voice steadying, “I can’t promise you that things will be easy. But I know what I feel for Jinx is real, and I refuse to let anyone take that away from me. I’ll find a way to make this work, no matter what happens.”

Your mom’s expression shifted, her eyes clouded with fear. “If you choose this path, you need to be prepared for the fallout. I won’t stand by while you throw your life away for someone who may not be worth it.”

“I have to make my own choices,” you insisted. “You can’t protect me from everything. If Jinx is sent to Stillwater, then I’ll find a way to help her. I’ll fight for her, no matter the cost.”

With that declaration hanging in the air, you felt a sense of clarity, a resolve that ignited your spirit. Caitlyn’s frustration radiated from her, and your mom’s fear was palpable, but you stood firm in your decision.

“Just remember,” your mom said, her voice low and serious, “you’re not just risking yourself; you’re risking everything we’ve built together. I hope you realize what that means before it’s too late.”

The weight of her words lingered in the silence, but in your heart, you knew you had to follow your path—whatever it might bring.

Your sister and mom finally left you alone, closing the door on their way out, you were alone, just you and your thoughts.

With your backpack slung over your shoulder, you reached for the door, ready to face whatever lay outside. But when you turned the handle, it wouldn’t budge. You twisted it again, more forcefully this time, but the door remained stubbornly locked.

“Seriously?” you muttered, trying again and again to open the door,  frustration bubbling within you. “Mom, you can’t be serious.”

Caitlyn talked through the door, “We’re doing this for your own good,” she insisted, her voice steady. “You don’t see the danger you’re putting yourself in.”

You turned back to the door, rattling the handle as if it would magically give in. “Let me out! I can handle this!”

“No,” your mom said, her voice firm. “You need to understand that this isn’t just about you and Jinx. It’s about the risks she brings into your life.”

“Risk?” you scoffed, heart pounding in frustration. “What risk? The only thing I’m risking is my happiness by not being with her!”

“You’re being reckless. You don’t even know what Jinx is capable of. You think it’s all fun and games, but it’s not. You’ll end up hurt, and I won’t let that happen.”

“How many times do I have to say this!, I’m not a kid anymore, Caitlyn!” you shot back, anger flaring. “I’m old enough to make my own choices, and I choose Jinx. You can’t just lock me away because you’re scared!”

Your mom’s voice softened. “It’s not fear. It’s love. I can’t stand by and watch you throw everything away for someone like her.”

“What if I don’t care about everything?” you shouted, the words spilling out before you could think. “What if I’d rather have Jinx and deal with the consequences than live a life without her?”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with frustration. “You’re being selfish! You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“Selfish?!” you yelled, the tension in the room reaching a boiling point. “You’re the one who’s being selfish by trying to control my life!”

The air was thick with tension, each heartbeat echoing the conflict swirling around you. You turned back to the door, pulling at the handle again, desperation rising. “Let me out!”

“No!” Caitlyn’s voice rang out, firm and unyielding. “You need to think about this. You’re making a huge mistake, and I won’t let you ruin your life over some misguided infatuation!”

Your mom stepped forward, her tone serious. “This is not a decision you can take lightly. Jinx is a wanted criminal, and she’ll drag you into her world. Do you understand the risks? The council won’t hesitate to take action if they catch her again, and if you’re with her…”

“I know!” you shouted, feeling the weight of their words crashing down. “I know what I’m getting into. But I can’t just walk away from someone who makes me feel alive!”

Caitlyn’s expression softened slightly, her anger giving way to something closer to concern. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can help you, but you need to let us in.”

The weight of her plea hung in the air, and for a moment, doubt flickered in your heart. “Help me how? By forcing me to abandon everything I care about?”

“We want what’s best for you,” Caitlyn insisted, her voice steady. “But this isn’t the way. You’re playing with fire.”

As you stood there, caught between their worry and your determination, you felt the gravity of the situation sink in. But in your heart, you knew one thing: you couldn’t abandon Jinx. You wouldn’t.

With a heavy sigh, you turned away from the door, the reality of your choices pressing down on you. “I can’t just forget about her. I won’t let you lock me away to try and prevent me from seeing Jinx.”

“Then you’re choosing this path on your own,” your mom said, her voice laced with sadness. “But just remember, the council doesn’t play games. If they see you with Jinx, it won’t just be her that pays the price. You will too.”

And with that, the tension settled back into the room, leaving you feeling trapped, not just physically but emotionally, as the weight of your choices loomed larger than ever.

The house was silent now, the echoes of the confrontation still ringing in your ears. You stood by the window, staring out into the night, and it suddenly clicked: this was your only escape route. Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, looking back to your door, where your mom and sister where, just behind it.

You stepped out of the window, feeling the cool night air rush past you. Just as you steadied yourself on the edge of the roof, a hand reached out to help you up. You gasped in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. Jinx stood there, her wild blue hair illuminated by the moonlight, a grin stretching across her face.

“About time you made a move!” she said, a mix of relief and mischief dancing in her eyes.

“I didn’t know you were here!” you exclaimed, still catching your breath.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting. Heard the shouting match—sounded intense,” she replied, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Are you okay?”

You looked back at the dark silhouette of your home, the memories of your family flooding your mind. “No… but I will be,” you murmured, the weight of leaving everything you knew pressing down on you.

Jinx stepped closer, her expression softening. “We’re getting out of here. I promise I’ll be with you every step of the way okay?,” she said, her voice steady.

You nodded, gratitude filling you. As she guided you along the roof towards the edge, a wave of melancholy washed over you. The city below, with its familiar sights and sounds, felt like a distant memory. Leaving your family, your sister, everything you had known stung deeply, but you pushed the feelings aside, knowing you had to focus on the path ahead.

With Jinx by your side, you prepared to step into the shadows of Zaun, where new beginnings awaited, even as the weight of your past lingered in your heart.

You’re lying on the worn couch in Jinx’s hideout, your body pressed against hers. Your face is nestled in the crook of her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin. One of your legs is draped comfortably across her waist, while the other is tucked beneath you. Jinx wraps her arms around you, holding you close. One of her hands rests gently on your thigh, grounding you with its warmth, while the other hand softly traces patterns along your back, providing a soothing rhythm. You can feel her heartbeat steady against you, which helps calm the storm of emotions inside.

As you lie together, you feel her warmth seep into you, wrapping around you like a protective blanket. “Hey,” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur, “I’m right here.”

You shift slightly, seeking her gaze. Her eyes are bright with concern, but there’s also a spark of something playful, a glimmer that reminds you of why you fell for her. “You know,” she continues, her fingers still dancing along your back, “you’re the best thing I’ve got”

A soft smile creeps onto your face at her words, but it quickly fades as the weight of your feelings crashes back in. You’ve left so much behind—your family, your old life—because they could never understand your love for her. “I feel like I lost everything,” you admit, your voice shaking as  tears finally spill down your cheeks little by little.

Jinx’s expression shifts as she takes in your tears, her brow furrowing with concern. She leans closer, brushing her lips against your forehead. “It’s okay to feel like that,” she murmurs, her voice soft and steady. “You’ve been through so much.”

You can feel her warmth radiating through the fabric of your clothes, a comforting presence against the weight of your sorrow. “I want to be strong for you, but sometimes it feels too heavy,” you confess, your voice trembling. The truth spills out, raw and unfiltered. “I miss them, Jinx. I miss my sister, my mom, everything I left behind.”

Her hold tightens around you as if she can shield you from the hurt. “I wish I could take it all away,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “But just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have me. I’m right here.”

Jinx’s sincerity washes over you, a balm to your aching heart. You lift your head slightly, locking your gaze with hers. The glimmer of determination in her eyes makes you feel seen, understood. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

“Then don’t think about it,” she replies, a hint of mischief in her tone as she tries to lighten the moment. “Just focus on us, on this—here and now. We’ll figure everything out together.”

She nudges your cheek with her nose playfully, a gesture meant to coax a smile out of you. It works, just a little. The corner of your lips twitch, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh through your tears. Jinx’s eyes light up at that, and she leans in to plant a soft kiss on your lips, sealing the moment with warmth and love.

With her arms still wrapped securely around you, you find solace in her presence. The world outside fades, leaving just the two of you.

You feel cocooned in the moment, the chaos of the world outside Jinx's hideout dimming to a distant hum. The scent of her hair—sweet and a little smoky—fills your senses, grounding you even more. Jinx pulls back slightly, her eyes searching yours, as if she’s memorizing every detail, every emotion swirling behind them.

“You know,” she begins, her tone softening, “I’m not exactly a ‘normal’ girl. I might be a bit… chaotic.” A small, playful grin tugs at her lips, a mischievous spark igniting in her gaze. “But I promise to always be your chaos. Just like I’m your explosion, you’re my spark.”

Her words hang in the air, warm and comforting. You can’t help but smile, feeling the familiar flutter of affection blooming in your chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you reply, your voice a mix of sincerity and teasing.

With a playful nudge, Jinx leans back, stretching her legs out and tugging you closer, as if wanting to make sure you’re tucked in securely. “See? We’re a perfect mess together,” she giggles, her laughter lightening the mood even more.

“Yeah, a beautiful mess,” you add, your heart swelling with love.

Jinx’s expression softens, and she brushes a thumb along your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “Let’s make a deal,” she says suddenly, her eyes sparkling with mischief again. “For every sad moment we have, we’ll balance it out with something ridiculous and fun. Like… a bubble bath fight! Or, or we could go set off some fireworks in the middle of the night!”

You laugh at the thought, imagining the chaos that would ensue. “As long as I’m with you, I’m in. Just maybe not the fireworks. You know how your plans usually go…”

“Hey! My plans are perfectly fine!” she protests with a grin. “But okay, no fireworks—just you and me, causing a ruckus in our own special way.”

With her playful spirit lighting the room, you feel the weight of your sadness begin to lift, replaced by warmth and laughter. In that moment, surrounded by the love and chaos that is Jinx, you know that you can face whatever comes next—together.

“Thanks for being you, Jinx,” you say softly, snuggling closer to her, your heart full of gratitude.

“Always,” she replies, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Now, let’s just enjoy this for a bit. No worries, just us.”

You close your eyes, breathing in the moment, savoring the warmth and safety of her embrace, knowing that as long as you’re together, you can weather any storm.

Jinx's playful spirit sparks an idea. “You know what we can to do so you can feel much better?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “A bubble bath! It’s the perfect way to unwind.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “A bubble bath, huh? Sounds like a plan.”

Jinx jumps up, practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on! I’ll fill the tub and grab some bath bombs!” She disappears into the small bathroom, and you follow her, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

The sound of water fills the air as Jinx prepares the bath, the warm steam rising, mixing with the sweet scent of the bath products she loves. You can’t help but smile at how she always brings a touch of chaos to even the simplest moments.

As the tub fills with fluffy bubbles, you begin to shed your clothes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The water looks inviting, and the thought of sinking into it with Jinx makes your heart flutter.

Jinx turns around, her eyes gleaming as she holds up a colorful bath bomb. “Ready for some fun?” she asks, her grin infectious.

You nod, and she tosses it into the tub, causing a cascade of colors to swirl through the bubbles. “Look at that! So pretty!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up.

You step into the warm water, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as the bubbles envelop you. Jinx slips in next to you, her playful energy radiating as she wraps her arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

You lean back against her, feeling her warmth surround you like a cozy blanket. Jinx’s fingers gently comb through your hair, a soothing rhythm that melts away any lingering tension. “See? This is what I’m talking about,” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear. “Just us, no worries.”

You close your eyes, allowing the warmth of the water and her embrace to cocoon you in a comforting haven. “This is perfect,” you reply softly, relishing the moment.

As you bask in the warmth of the water, you feel Jinx’s presence enveloping you, both physically and emotionally. The gentle strokes of her fingers through your hair bring a sense of peace, and you can’t help but lean further into her, letting the stress of the outside world melt away.

Jinx chuckles softly, her laughter echoing lightly in the cozy space. “See? I told you bubble baths are the best. They have magic powers or something.”

You smile, turning slightly to meet her gaze. “Definitely. Your magic powers are working.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she leans closer, her breath a tantalizing whisper against your skin. “Just wait until I show you my secret bubble bath skills.”

Curiosity piqued, you lean in a little closer. “Oh? What are those?”

With a playful grin, Jinx shifts her position, wrapping her arms more securely around you. “Just us being together, soaking in the warmth and forgetting the world. That’s all the skill I need.”

You can’t help but smile at her simplicity. It’s moments like these, stripped of chaos and distractions, that make you realize how deeply connected you feel to her.

As the bubbles gently swirl around you, the warmth and intimacy of the moment send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You meet her gaze, feeling a spark of vulnerability and excitement.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” she replies, her tone sincere. “You make everything brighter.”

Slowly, she draws you closer until you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back. The ambiance shifts slightly, the playful atmosphere fading into a tender silence, filled with unspoken feelings.

Her gaze softens, and you sense the connection between you deepen. Jinx gave you a quick kiss at the top of your head, then both your cheek,  Jinx leans in closer to your lips this time, her breath mingling with the warm air, sending shivers down your spine. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, her voice a mix of vulnerability and excitement.

Your heart races at the question, and all you can do is nod. In an instant, her lips are on yours, soft and sweet, a perfect contrast to the tranquil chaos of earlier. The kiss deepens, a soft exploration of warmth and trust, as the world outside disappears completely.

You melt into her, every worry and doubt fading away as you sink into the moment. The warmth of the water and Jinx’s embrace envelop you, creating a bubble of intimacy that feels safe and electric all at once.

As you melt into the kiss, you feel Jinx's fingers begin to wander gently along your arms, tracing delicate patterns against your skin. The warmth of her touch sends tingles coursing through you, amplifying the connection between you.

“You’re so soft,” she whispers, breaking the kiss for just a moment, her breath warm against your cheek. Her fingers continue their exploration, gliding from your shoulders down to your waist, every caress igniting a spark of electricity.

You lean back against her, letting her guide you further into relaxation. The water ripples gently around you as she pulls you closer, her hands roaming with a mix of tenderness and curiosity. Each brush of her fingertips feels like a sweet promise, a declaration of her affection that makes your heart race.

“Is this okay?” she murmurs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, as her fingers slide along your sides, teasingly exploring the curves of your body.

You nod, breathless and eager, completely lost in the moment. “More than okay,” you reply softly, your voice shaky with anticipation.

Jinx’s fingers continue their dance, moving slowly as if she’s memorizing every inch of you. The gentle pressure of her touch is both soothing and thrilling, igniting a warmth that spreads through you like wildfire. She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I love how you feel against me,” she whispers, her tone low and intimate.

Her hands explore further, gliding down your back and then around to your front, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. You feel as though the outside world has faded away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in this perfect moment.

The water bubbles around you, and the scent of the bath products fills the air, creating an enchanting atmosphere. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of her fingers on your skin, each caress igniting a deep yearning within you.

As Jinx’s fingers continue their gentle exploration, they glide down from your waist, her touch light and teasing. You can feel the warmth of her body radiating against yours, heightening your senses with every brush of her skin.

Her fingers pause for a moment, hovering just above your chest. You meet her gaze, searching for reassurance, and the playful spark in her eyes gives you the courage to nod slightly. “You can touch me, Jinx,” you whisper, your heart racing with anticipation. You know exactly what she's going to do.

A mischievous smile spreads across her lips as Jinx's fingers begin to explore your breasts, and the world around you fades away, leaving only the electric sensations coursing through your body. She starts with a gentle caress, her touch soft and teasing, but it soon escalates to light squeezes, each one more intoxicating than the last. Finally, her fingers find your nipples, pinching with a newfound boldness, her restraint slipping with every movement. Each pinch sends thrilling shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth inside you that grows with every touch. Leaning back into her, you crave more of her warmth, surrendering to the intoxicating closeness that envelopes you both.

“Jinx…” you breathe, your voice thick with longing. Her fingers glide over your tits with sultry confidence, teasing and exploring, awakening a hunger within you that demands to be satisfied.

“Do you like that?” she murmurs, her voice low and playful. The warmth of her breath against your skin sends your heart racing, and you nod, completely lost in the sensations of her fingers slowly teasing your nipples with her fingers. “I want more,” you whisper, your desire clear.

With a mischievous smile, Jinx deepens her exploration. Her fingers slide lower, tracing the curves of your body with a feather-light touch. You can feel the heat radiating from her, igniting every nerve as her hands roam lower, finding their way to your waist.

“Just for you,” she promises, her sultry tone sending a thrill through you. Her lips capture yours in a heated kiss, filled with urgency and need. You melt into her, your body responding to her every movement, every kiss igniting a fire deep within you.

Jinx's kisses travel from your lips to your neck, her soft lips trailing kisses along your collarbone, sending delicious shivers racing down your spine. As she kisses her way up, her fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, and suddenly, she finds a spot that makes you gasp—a place where her touch sends tingles of pleasure radiating through you.

“Right here?” she asks playfully, her lips hovering near that sensitive spot. You nod breathlessly, unable to form words as she leans in, her mouth capturing your skin. With a gentle bite and a little sucking, she leaves a hickey, marking you with her lips. The sensation of her mouth against your neck, combined with the delightful pressure of her hands roaming your body, sends waves of pleasure surging through you.

“Jinx!” you gasp, a mix of surprise and exhilaration flooding your senses. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in her possessive mark that makes your heart race even faster.

“Looks like I found your sweet spot,” she teases, her voice low and sultry as she continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, each touch igniting more heat within you. “I could spend all night right here.”

You lean back against her, surrendering fully to the sensations as her lips leave a soft trail of kisses along your neck, lingering on each spot with gentle care. Her hands explore your body with a tender curiosity, mapping out every curve as if savoring each one. She lets her fingers travel slowly, her touch becoming more intimate, until she finally reaches the sensitive area between your thighs, teasing in slow, delicate movements. Each kiss and every gentle caress along your skin builds the tension between you, and when her fingers begin to brush over your clit, your breath catches, a soft gasp escaping. The warmth radiating from her touch feels electric, and the heat simmering between you grows, filling the space with a heady sense of anticipation

“God, Jinx, it feels so good,” you manage to murmur through your moans, feeling lost in a haze of pleasure as she finally inserts her index and middle finger inside you. The world outside fades away, and all you can focus on is her—the warmth of her body against yours and the way her fingers come in and out of you ignites every nerve.

“Just relax and let me take care of you,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. The way she says it sends a thrill through you, urging you to surrender completely to the sensations that engulf you.

Jinx’s lips continue to explore, her kisses trailing down your neck and lingering on the mark she’s left behind, making you feel cherished and desired.

As she continues working her magic with her fingers, you can feel the pressure building within you, the delicious tension leaving you breathless. “Please, don’t stop,” you beg, your heart racing as her fingers curl inside you, igniting the fire within you that craves more.

“Never,” she murmurs, her voice sultry and thick with desire. Her lips press against your neck once more, lingering on the sensitive skin there, each kiss purposeful and unhurried. Her hand moves gently, and you feel her thumb begin to trace slow, deliberate circles, building a steady rhythm against your clit. The sensation stirs a powerful, almost overwhelming wave of pleasure, but she’s patient, coaxing each reaction from you as if savoring every moment. The world around you fades completely, leaving only the feel of her touch, her warmth against you. Every kiss, every careful movement, draws you closer to her, binding you in a shared intimacy that feels electric, as if you’re the only two people in the world.

The air around you seems to thrum with energy as Jinx's fingers keep working you up, each movement perfectly timed to your breaths, making you lose yourself in the sensations. Her thumb circles against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. The warmth of the water envelops you both, creating an intimate  that feels like a secret world just for the two of you.

“Jinx…” you breathe, your voice a mix of urgency and longing, every nerve in your body ignited by her touch. Your head tips back, resting against her shoulder, as you surrender completely to the bliss she’s giving you.

“Just let go,” she encourages softly, her voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “I’ve got you.”

With every stroke of her fingers, the heat within you builds, a tide rising and ready to crash. You can feel your body responding instinctively to her rhythm, the tension coiling tighter, urging you toward that edge. The way Jinx’s lips brush against your skin, paired with the gentle rocking of her fingers, pulls you deeper into a dizzying haze of pleasure.

“God, I can’t hold on much longer,” you confess, your breath hitching as the pressure within you swells to a near breaking point.

“Good,” she replies, her tone both teasing and passionate. “I want to feel you come apart for me.” Her fingers quicken their pace slightly, and the sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure rushing through you, igniting every inch of your skin.

You can feel your heart racing, the world around you blurring into a haze as the waves of pleasure build, cresting and crashing within you. You grip the edge of the tub, your nails digging in as you lose yourself in the rhythm of her touch, the warmth of her body against yours, and the sweet sounds of your shared intimacy.

“Jinx, please,” you gasp, feeling the tight coil of tension inside you reaching its peak, ready to snap.

“Just let go, toots,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, as if urging you on, a secret promise behind her words. “You’re so close. I can feel it.”

With a final swirl of her thumb and a deep curl of her fingers inside you, the world shatters. Pleasure explodes through you like fireworks, bright and consuming, washing away everything else. You arch against her, gasping as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body, pulling you under in the most beautiful way.

“Jinx!” you cry out, lost in the moment, completely enveloped in her warmth and the intoxicating aftershocks of your release.

Her arms tighten around you, holding you close as you tremble in the aftermath, every sensation magnified. She kisses your shoulder softly, her lips brushing your skin as you ride out the last waves of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings that send flutters through your heart.

“You did so good,” she praises, her voice soft and warm, filled with affection. “I love seeing you like this.”

As the waves of pleasure gradually subside, Jinx gently cradles you in her arms, her touch tender and reassuring. She plants soft kisses along your shoulder, each one a whisper of affection that lingers in the warm, steamy air. “You okay?” she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern, her eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nod, a soft smile breaking across your face as you lean into her warmth. “More than okay,” you breathe, your heart still racing but now filled with a warmth that spreads through your chest.

Jinx grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good. I’d hate to think I overwhelmed you. Just wanted to make you feel amazing.” She shifts slightly, ensuring you’re both comfortable in the embrace, and the water ripples around you, creating a soothing melody.

“Mission accomplished,” you reply, your voice light and airy as you feel the remnants of bliss still tingling throughout your body.

With a playful glint in her eye, Jinx dips her fingers into the bubbly water, splashing a few bubbles toward you. “Let’s keep this magic going a little longer,” she says, her grin infectious.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you splash her back playfully. The moment feels effortless, a carefree exchange that wraps around both of you like the warmth of the water. The intimacy of the earlier moments lingers, but now it’s infused with a cozy lightness that makes your heart soar.

“Come here, you,” Jinx says, pulling you closer, her arms enveloping you as she gently sways you back and forth in the tub. “We should stay like this forever. Just us, no worries, no chaos.”

You lean your head against her collarbone, the softness of her skin grounding you. “I could get used to this,” you admit, relishing the tranquility that fills the air.

Jinx brushes her fingers through your hair, a soothing gesture that sends warmth flooding through you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

As the minutes pass, you both enjoy the quiet intimacy, the steam rising and swirling around you like a protective cocoon. You catch her gaze, the playful spark in her eyes replaced with something softer, deeper. “You really mean that, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she replies, sincerity dripping from her words. “You deserve all the magic, all the moments like this. I’ll always be here to give them to you.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, filled with the rhythm of your breathing and the gentle splashes of water. The weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you wrapped in a tender bubble of connection.

After the warmth of the bath, you find yourself back in Jinx's hideout where you'll be living from now on, the air still thick with the aftermath of shared intimacy. The chaotic charm of the place wraps around you like a comforting blanket, filled with colorful gadgets and strange contraptions that reflect Jinx’s vibrant personality.

As you take in the surroundings, your gaze lands on a glimmering object resting on her workbench. It sparkles under the dim light, hues of deep blue swirling within. Curiosity piqued, you move closer, drawn in by its beauty.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the mesmerizing gemstone.

Jinx’s eyes light up with mischief, a grin spreading across her face. “Oh, that?” she replies, leaning closer to you, her excitement contagious. “That’s a special little thing I borrowed.” She gestures toward it dramatically. “Isn’t it amazing?”

You can’t help but be captivated. “What does it do?”

“Not entirely sure yet,” she admits, biting her lip in that way you find adorable. “But Silco wants me to make something cool with it—an invention or probably a weapon. You know how he is.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice, mixed with that familiar defiance you adore.

“Silco? You mean—”

“Yeah, my dad.” Jinx shrugs nonchalantly, but you can sense the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “He thinks this gem could be the key to something big, but honestly? I just think it looks awesome.” She leans closer, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Who knows what kind of trouble we could get into?”

You chuckle, both thrilled and a bit concerned. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Safe?” she scoffs playfully. “Since when has that ever been part of the deal?” She winks, the chaotic energy around her pulling you in. “But that’s what makes it fun! Besides, if it’s dangerous, that just means we’re doing it right!”

As she picks up the gemstone, its light reflects off her features, illuminating her excitement. The feeling of adventure washes over you, mixing with the warmth of your shared moments. You find yourself entranced, eager to see where this wild ride with Jinx will lead next.

Jinx is hunched over her workbench, various parts and pieces strewn across the table as she begins to assemble a rough blueprint. Her focus is intense, brows knit together, eyes fixed on the pieces as she fits them together with methodical precision. It’s fascinating to watch her work, but after a while, the silence and her intense concentration start to make you feel like a bit of an afterthought as you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

You stretch out on the worn couch, tossing a dramatic sigh into the room. “Jinx,” you drawl, glancing over at her with an exaggerated pout, “are you planning to ignore me forever, or just until this thing actually works?”

Jinx doesn’t even flinch, her hands deftly twisting a screw into place as she mumbles, “Just until it’s done, maybe. Unless you keep whining like that. Then I’ll take even longer.”

You roll your eyes, feigning offense. “Wow, am I really that easy to ignore? I might just melt into this couch from sheer neglect.”

She finally glances over her shoulder, smirking. “Not my fault you’re jealous of a couple of bolts and screws.” With a playful raise of her brow, she nods toward her blueprint. “Besides, this isn’t just ‘a thing.’ This is gonna be epic. A beast of a… a… Fishbones!”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Fishbones?”

She shrugs, looking unbothered. “Yeah! You know, it’s got… bite! ‘Course, I’ll need to get it there first.” She turns back to her work, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the table.

You huff again, shifting restlessly. “Maybe it’s me that needs your attention, ever thought of that?”

Jinx quirks an eyebrow, but her hands don’t leave her work as she replies with a low chuckle. “Oh, I’ve thought about it. Trust me. But some of us have to focus to make something cool happen.”

You cross your arms, sinking deeper into the couch with an exaggerated huff. “So I’m supposed to sit here and be second place to a metal skeleton?”

She sighs, pausing her work long enough to glance over with a faint grin tugging at her lips. “If it’s any consolation, you’re definitely my favorite person who’s ever interrupted my work.”

You let out a snort, rolling your eyes. “Not good enough.”

A flicker of amusement crosses her face as she gestures you over with a tilt of her head and pats her thighs. “Alright, fine. Come here, you little distraction.”

You don’t need more of an invitation, slipping off the couch and sliding onto her lap, making yourself comfortable as her arms instinctively wrap around you, a mix of exasperation and fondness in her gaze.

She rolls her eyes but can’t hold back a small smirk. “I swear, you’re more high-maintenance than Fishbones is gonna be.”

You lean into her, pressing your forehead against hers with a soft smile. “Maybe I just like being a little bit of trouble.”

Jinx huffs a laugh, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along your back. “Guess I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Jinx’s focus starts to shift as you nestle against her, the warmth of her body grounding you. The metal parts on the table glimmer under the dim light, but you’re no longer interested in them. Instead, you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your fingertips, and it’s surprisingly soothing.

“See?” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. “You just needed to remind me how amazing I am at multitasking. I can build my epic invention and cuddle with you at the same time.”

You chuckle, enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, really? Because it looks more like I’m doing all the work here.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, but there’s a spark of mischief in her gaze. “Yeah, sure. You're the one doing all the hard work of lounging around and stealing my warmth. It’s exhausting.”

“Exactly! This is a very demanding job,” you reply dramatically, sinking further into her embrace. “Someone has to make sure you stay motivated.”

“By distracting me?” She scoffs, but the smirk on her lips tells you she’s not really annoyed. “How am I supposed to focus on my masterpiece when you’re this close?”

You shift slightly, nestling into her a bit more. “Maybe I’m your real masterpiece. You know, the ultimate work of art.”

Jinx snorts, shaking her head. “You’re gonna have to do better than that to get a compliment out of me. I mean, just look at you compared to this genius invention.” She gestures to her workspace, her eyes gleaming with excitement. 

You chuckle again, finally relenting as you settle into a more comfortable position on her lap. “Fine, I’ll let you have your moment. Just promise you won’t forget about me entirely, okay?”

She pretends to ponder your request for a moment, biting her lip to suppress a grin. “Mmm… I’ll think about it. But no promises!”

You let out a mock gasp, clutching your chest. “How could you do this to me?”

Jinx laughs, shaking her head in delight. “Oh, I can think of a million ways. But right now, I need to focus, remember?”

“Right, right. But only after you give me at least one kiss for luck.” You raise an eyebrow, your playful tone inviting her to indulge you.

She pauses her work, glancing at you with mock seriousness. “You know what? That’s a fair trade.” Then, with a grin that makes your heart race, she leans in, pressing her lips softly against yours.

The kiss is sweet and fleeting, leaving you both smiling as she pulls back. “See? Now you can’t complain about being neglected. You have your kiss of luck, and I’m back to being a genius.”

With a mock sigh of defeat, you settle back into her embrace, ready to enjoy your time together while she dives back into her work. 

Little did you know how that weapon was going to change your entire life.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the makeshift hideout. Jinx sprawled out on the floor, her legs kicked up on a crate, while you leaned against the wall, watching her as she fiddled with an array of gadgets. The atmosphere was light, punctuated by her occasional bursts of laughter as she told you wild stories of her adventures.

“...and then I rigged the whole thing to blow just as they walked in! You should have seen their faces!” Jinx giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You couldn’t help but chuckle along, captivated by her enthusiasm.

But as the stories flowed, you caught a glimpse of something flickering behind her playful demeanor. It was subtle, like a shadow passing over her expression—a hint of darkness that seemed to creep in whenever she mentioned Piltover or the Enforcers. You tried to brush it off, but it lingered, a gnawing feeling in your gut.

“Jinx, do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation toward a lighter path. “I mean, look at us! We’re like a chaotic dream team.”

She smirked, the glimmer in her eyes returning. “Yeah, but I’ve got plans, toots. Big plans! And they can’t even begin to imagine what I’m capable of.”

Her tone held a slight edge, something almost predatory that sent a shiver down your spine. You met her gaze, searching for the playful girl you knew. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just… you know. Letting off some steam. A little chaos never hurt anyone, right?” Her grin widened, but you noticed her fingers twitching slightly, as if itching for something more than just a harmless prank.

You felt a tension settle between you, the line between lightheartedness and something darker becoming increasingly blurred. “I guess not,” you replied cautiously, hoping to lighten the mood. “Just don’t forget about us, okay?”

“Forget about us?” She chuckled, but there was a fierceness behind her laughter. “Never. I’m all in, you know that.”

Yet, the undercurrent in her words echoed like a warning, one that left you with an uneasy feeling as you watched her dive back into her work, the fleeting shadow of something dangerous still lingering in the air.

In an attempt to break through the heaviness, you slid down onto the floor beside her, resting your head against her shoulder. “You know,” you began softly, “no matter what plans you have, I’m always here to be your partner in crime. Just… remember to squeeze in some fun, okay?”

Jinx paused, her fingers hovering above the scattered parts, and glanced at you, her eyes sparkling with warmth. She nudged you playfully with her shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re right. I could definitely use some fun—especially with my favorite troublemaker right here.”

With a sudden burst of energy, she threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted into her, feeling the softness of her shirt against your cheek and the comforting warmth of her body enveloping you. The world outside faded for a moment, replaced by the familiar scent of her hair and the sound of her laughter vibrating through you.

“See? This is what I’m talking about! Chaos and cuddles all in one,” she declared, her voice muffled as she buried her face into your hair, the softness of her laughter wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

You chuckled, feeling the weight of her presence soothe your worries. “I’m definitely up for more cuddles and a little less chaos… at least for tonight.”

She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “Alright, but if I get inspired and feel that chaotic urge creeping in, you have to promise to join me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you replied, grinning back at her. You took a moment to soak in the sight of her—messy hair, smudged cheeks, and that radiant smile that seemed to brighten the dim room. “But first, can we just enjoy this for a bit? You know, the cuddles part?”

Her laughter danced in the air as she leaned closer, resting her forehead against yours. “Yeah, I could get used to this. Just you and me, causing havoc in our own little world.”

You smiled, feeling a lightness bloom in your chest. “Exactly. Just us. No missions, no plans—just moments like this.”

Jinx’s expression softened, her eyes glimmering with warmth. “You make it sound so simple, but it feels perfect.” She brushed her fingers lightly along your arm, and in that quiet moment, everything felt right.

“Perfect, huh?” you teased gently, nudging her playfully. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course it is!” she replied, her grin widening. “Now, let’s make some memories before I go back to plotting world domination, or whatever it is I do.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, feeling the joy and comfort radiating between you. The flickers of darkness that had lingered earlier were pushed aside, replaced by laughter, warmth, and the promise of more adventures together—one chaotic moment at a time.

The flickering light from the workbench casts dancing shadows on the walls as Jinx is lost in her world of gears and blueprints. You watch her from the couch, your mind swirling with thoughts about the recent conversations you've had. She’s been obsessed with Fishbones lately, her excitement palpable, but there’s something darker brewing beneath that enthusiasm.

“Jinx,” you begin softly, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to gauge her mood. “Have you thought about what you’re actually planning to do with Fishbones?”

Her fingers pause, and she glances up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you mean? It’s going to be the ultimate weapon!” She grins, clearly not understanding the weight behind your words.

You swallow, trying to choose your next words carefully. “I get that it’s going to be amazing, but… what if it’s used against people? It’s not just a toy, Jinx. We’re talking about real destruction.”

She shrugs, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Hey, it’s not like I’m going to blow up the whole city! Just… the bad parts. You know, the ones that think they’re all mighty when, in reality, they’re just a bunch of spineless council puppets hiding behind their rules.

“Still,” you press, shifting slightly to show your concern. “There’s a line between defending ourselves and becoming the very thing we’re fighting against. It’s a slippery slope.”

Jinx rolls her eyes playfully, but there’s a flicker of seriousness in her gaze. “Come on, you worry too much. I promise it’s just for show. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” you echo, arching an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”

“Just think about it!” she exclaims, waving her hands animatedly. “I can’t make something that cool and not use it! I just want to show Piltover they can’t keep stomping all over us and acting like I’m some rabid dog they can lock up.. Is that so wrong?”

You watch as Jinx rummages through her supplies, her energy infectious, but a knot of concern still tightens in your chest. “Jinx, this isn’t just about fun and games. What if something goes wrong? What if someone gets hurt?”

She freezes for a moment, her hand stilling on a gadget. “You really don’t get it, do you? This is how we make a statement! We can’t just sit around waiting for them to decide our fate.”

“Making a statement doesn’t have to mean risking lives!” you counter, frustration creeping into your voice. “There’s a difference between standing up for ourselves and throwing caution to the wind!”

Jinx narrows her eyes, the playful spark dimming again. “You think I want to hurt people? I want to show them we’re not afraid. They think they can just crush us under their boot, and I won’t let that happen!”

“And I’m not saying you should!” you reply, your voice rising slightly. “But you’re talking about using a weapon, Jinx. This is serious! What if it backfires?”

“Backfires?!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You think I’m some clueless kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing? I’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“It’s not about being clueless! It’s about thinking things through!” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “I’m not trying to undermine you; I just don’t want to see you go down a path that could end up destroying everything we’ve fought for.”

Her expression hardens, and for a moment, it feels like there’s an invisible wall between you. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of villain! I’m not out here to hurt just anyone—only the ones who damn well deserve it!”

“And how do you decide who deserves it?!” you demand, frustration boiling over. “What if you cross a line you can’t come back from? I can’t support that!”

She glares at you, the air thick with tension. “So what? You expect me to just sit here and let them grind us into the dirt? That’s not how this works!”

“I want you to think before you act!” you say, your heart racing. “You’re smarter than this, Jinx. You can fight back without becoming the very thing you despise.”

For a moment, silence hangs heavy between you, both of you breathing heavily. Jinx's eyes flash with a mixture of defiance and hurt. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You of all people should understand what it’s like to be pushed to the edge!”

“I do understand!” you shoot back, feeling the weight of your words. “That’s exactly why I’m worried! I don’t want to see you lose yourself in all of this.”

Jinx’s shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining from her. “You really think I’m going to lose myself?”

“I’m afraid of it,” you admit, your voice softening. “I don’t want to watch you become someone who’s consumed by anger and revenge.”

Her gaze softens for a moment, and she takes a step closer, her voice quieter. “I thought you were in this with me, that you’d back me up no matter what.”

“I am in this with you,” you say, sincerity flooding your words. “But backing you up doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you do. I care about you too much to just stand by and watch you make choices that could hurt you—or others.”

For a long moment, she studies your face, the tension shifting into something more complex. “You really are a buzzkill,” she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Maybe I just want to keep you grounded,” you reply, matching her grin with one of your own. “And maybe I want you to remember who you are, deep down.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, but you can see the flicker of affection in her expression. “Fine. I’ll try to keep the chaos in check… a little.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” you say, relief washing over you. “Let’s find a balance between your plans and making sure we’re not losing sight of what really matters.”

“Okay, okay!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You win this round. But just know, when I do unleash some glorious chaos, you’ll be right there beside me!”

“Deal,” you agree, feeling the heaviness of the argument lift as you share a warm smile. 

Yet beneath it all, you sensed this was only the start of something bigger.

The following evening, the atmosphere in the hideout feels charged, the air thick with a tension that’s hard to ignore. You find yourself perched on the edge of a rickety chair, watching Jinx as she sits cross-legged on the floor, her array of gadgets and blueprints sprawled around her. She’s been unusually quiet, and instead of her usual playful banter, she’s focused intently on her sketches.

As you peer over, you catch sight of her doodling the intricate designs of Piltover’s council buildings, her pencil moving rapidly across the paper. The lines are sharp, almost aggressive, and a chill runs down your spine as you realize that the detailed buildings aren’t just architectural sketches; they look like targets.

“Jinx?” you venture cautiously, shifting in your seat. “What are you working on?”

Her head snaps up, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, but there’s something darker lurking beneath the surface. “Just some ideas,” she replies casually, though her tone doesn’t match the intensity of her gaze.

You lean forward, trying to decipher her mood. “Ideas for what? It looks… different from your usual stuff.”

“It’s nothing,” she brushes off, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she flips the page. “Just thinking of ways Fishbones could take on those pesky enforcers, Silco’s request.”

Your stomach knots at her words, the playful edge to her voice sending alarm bells ringing in your mind. “Jinx, you’re not serious, right? You can’t actually be thinking about attacking them.”

She rolls her eyes, the sparkle in her expression dimming slightly. “It’s just brainstorming! Nothing wrong with a little strategy, toots.” But there’s a glint in her eyes—a thrill that unnerves you.

“Strategy?” you repeat, your heart racing. “This doesn’t sound like the fun chaos you usually talk about. This sounds… dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” she echoes, laughing lightly. “Come on, it’s not like I’m drawing up a full-on battle plan! I just like to imagine how I could make a statement, that’s all.”

“But what kind of statement?” you push, feeling a mix of concern and frustration. “You’re talking about real lives here, Jinx. This isn’t just a game!”

Her expression shifts, and you can see the flickers of intensity rising in her gaze. “Maybe it should be taken seriously! They’ve taken everything from us, and I’m just thinking about how to fight back.”

It almost felt as if Silco was talking through her, but there isn't time to think about that. You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I get that, but you can’t just focus on destruction. There has to be another way.”

“Another way?” she snaps, her voice rising slightly. “You mean the way they want us to? Just keep our heads down and hope for the best? That’s not going to change anything!”

You watch as her enthusiasm begins to morph into something darker, a dangerous thrill radiating off her. It’s unsettling, and despite your attempts to reach her, the intensity in her demeanor only grows stronger. “I’m not saying you should just give up, but there’s got to be a line we don’t cross.”

“Why not?” she challenges, her eyes narrowing. “If they won’t stop until they wipe us out, why should I hold back? Maybe it’s time they learned what happens when they mess with the wrong people!, show them what happened when they mess with me”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. The excitement in her voice sends shivers down your spine. “Jinx, please. You’re scaring me. This isn’t who you are.”

For a moment, her expression falters, and you catch a glimpse of the playful girl you fell in love with. “I… I’m just trying to protect us,” she says, her voice softer now, but there’s still an edge to it.

You reach out, placing your hand over hers, grounding her in that moment. “I know you are, but you don’t have to do it this way. You can be a hero without becoming a monster.”

Jinx stares at you, the conflict in her eyes palpable. “I don’t want to be a monster,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “But what if they make me one?”

You can feel the heaviness in the air, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on you both. “Then we fight together, but we fight smart, not reckless.”

After a beat, she lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling her hand away to scribble on her sketch again, though the energy has shifted. “You’re right,” she finally admits, her voice tight. “I just… get so carried away sometimes. I want to show them I'm not afraid.”

“You’re not alone in this, Jinx,” you reassure her gently. “You don’t have to carry that weight by yourself. Just promise me you’ll think about the consequences of your plans, okay?”

“Fine,” she replies, her voice laced with a reluctant acceptance. “But don’t expect me to stop dreaming up chaos. It’s who I am.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to change that,” you smile softly, grateful for the return of some lightness. “Just let’s keep the chaos fun, alright?”

Jinx smirks, a hint of her usual mischief returning. “You got it, partner. Chaos and cuddles only!”

As she leans into you, the earlier tension begins to fade, but you can’t shake the feeling that the flickers of darkness are still there, waiting just beneath the surface.

A few days later, the hideout buzzes with a different energy. Jinx is on a roll, her excitement palpable as she paces the small space, tossing ideas around like confetti. She’s practically glowing with enthusiasm, but you can’t shake the lingering unease that’s taken root in your heart.

“Okay, okay, hear me out!” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What if we set off a few booms in Piltover, just to remind them I’m still here? Nothing too crazy, just a little fun to keep them on their toes!”

You frown, feeling the tension tightening in your chest. “Jinx, are you serious right now? You can’t just go blowing things up. That’s not fun; that’s reckless!”

She brushes off your concerns with a wave of her hand, spinning around to face you. “Oh come on! It’s not like I’m asking to destroy the whole place. Just a little chaos, just to show them we mean business!”

“Chaos isn’t just harmless fun, Jinx!” you challenge, your voice rising slightly. “You know what happens when you start throwing around explosives. People could get hurt—innocent people!”

Her expression shifts, the mischief fading as she crosses her arms defensively. “Innocent people? Like the council members who don’t give a shit about us? They’re the ones holding all the power!”

“Exactly! And you think blowing things up is going to change that?” You stand your ground, feeling the heat of the moment. “You’re not some vigilante. You can’t take justice into your own hands like this!”

Jinx’s eyes flash with frustration, her playful demeanor crumbling under the weight of your words. “What do you want me to do, huh? Just sit back and let them walk all over us? Pretend everything is fine while they scheme against us?”

“It’s not about pretending! It’s about finding a way to fight back without becoming a monster yourself!” The words spill out before you can stop them, the frustration boiling over. “You’re better than this, Jinx!”

Her gaze hardens, the air growing thick with tension. “Better than what? Better than standing up for myself? You don’t get it!” she snaps, her voice tinged with an edge you’ve never heard before. “You’re so wrapped up in your little ideas of right and wrong that you can’t see what’s at stake!”

“Maybe it’s you who’s not seeing clearly,” you retort, your heart racing. “This isn’t just a game. This is our lives! It’s our future!”

Jinx narrows her eyes, a flicker of hurt flashing across her face. “Our future? You’re the one who’s worried about consequences while I’m trying to make something happen! I don’t want to sit and wait for change. I want to make it!”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words hang in the air. “I want change too, but not at the cost of losing who you are. You can’t let this ambition turn you into someone you don’t want to be.”

She scoffs, her anger simmering just below the surface. “So what am I supposed to do? Just sit back and watch them destroy everything down here? That’s your plan?”

“No!” you exclaim, frustration giving way to desperation. “But there has to be a balance! You can’t let your passion for chaos blind you to the consequences. You have to think about how this affects us, Jinx!”

For a moment, silence stretches between you, the weight of the argument settling heavily in the air. Jinx’s gaze drops, the fire in her eyes dimming as the reality of your words sinks in. “You don’t trust me,” she murmurs, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you reply softly, stepping closer, searching her gaze for understanding. “It’s that I’m scared of what this obsession with taking down Piltover is doing to you. You’re losing sight of what matters.”

She shakes her head, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “You just don’t get it! I need to show them that we’re not afraid! I can’t just sit around and wait for someone else to make a change!”

“Jinx…” you start, but the words die in your throat. The intensity of her ambition is overwhelming, and for the first time, you feel the crack in your relationship growing wider.

Her expression hardens, a wall going up as she turns away. “I can’t believe you don’t see what I’m trying to do. You’re supposed to be my partner in this, not my conscience.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a part of this if it means losing you to the darkness,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Jinx’s back remains turned, and for the first time, you wonder if this rift between you might be deeper than you realized.

But what matters to you is that somehow you and Jinx managed to patch things up, like a small band-aid covering every crack in your relationship. The problem is that band-aids eventually wear off.

The hideout buzzed with energy as Jinx animatedly shared stories from the day’s escapades, laughter spilling from her lips like a melody. You leaned against the wall, heart swelling with affection, but a nagging worry settled in your gut.

Lately, Jinx had been spending more time with Silco, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was weaving himself into her thoughts. She’d come back with strange ideas and reckless plans, discussing ways to “take down Piltover” as if it were a casual evening chat.

“Jinx,” you called out, catching her attention as she fiddled with the blueprints scattered across the table. “Can we talk for a second?”

She paused, tilting her head with a playful smirk. “What’s up, toots? Are you finally going to help me with Fishbones?”

You took a breath, trying to keep your tone light, but the concern in your chest pushed through. “It’s not about Fishbones. It’s about Silco. I’m worried he’s getting in your head.”

“Come on! Silco just knows how to think big!” she laughed, brushing off your concern with a wave of her hand. “He gets it. He’s not like the others.”

“But that’s just it,” you pressed, stepping closer. “You trust him too much. He has his own agenda. I don’t want you to lose sight of what we stand for.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her playful demeanor faltering for a moment. “I’m not losing anything! He’s just… giving me a broader perspective.”

“Jinx, this isn’t just about having a bigger picture. He’s been pushing you toward this dangerous edge,” you insisted, your heart racing. “And you keep talking about taking action. What does that even mean?”

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as the fire within her flared back to life. “You really think I’m going to sit back and let Piltover trample us like we’re nothing? That’s not who I am—I refuse to be their victim!

“I know who you are, and that’s why this scares me!” you replied, voice rising with frustration. “I love your wild spirit, but don’t let Silco twist it into something it’s not!”

The air thickened with tension as she stared at you, a mixture of anger and uncertainty flashing across her face. “So you want me to just ignore everything he says? Pretend like it’s not happening?”

“Not ignore it, but think critically about it! We can find our own way without becoming pawns in someone else’s game!”

Jinx’s expression hardened, the playful glint gone from her eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t see the bigger picture. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to protect what you care about.”

You felt a surge of hurt at her words, sensing the growing divide. “But at what cost, Jinx? I don’t want to lose you to this chaos.”

A flicker of doubt crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with defiance. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“Jinx—” you began, but she cut you off, frustration evident. “Just drop it! I don’t need you to protect me!”

As she turned away, retreating out of the hideout, you were left standing there, the weight of your argument settling heavily in your chest. Silco’s influence felt like a shadow stretching between you, and the distance that grew felt more like a chasm.

The silence that followed was deafening, each heartbeat echoing the uncertainty that had taken root in your chest. You were losing her to the chaos that surrounded you both, and for the first time, doubt gnawed at the edges of your heart.

Hours slipped by in a haze of worry, the dim light of the hideout casting shadows that seemed to press in closer. You found yourself retreating to a quiet corner, desperately trying to grasp onto the love you felt, the memories that had once felt so untouchable. But each one now felt laced with the tension that Silco had brought between you.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and there she was, lingering in the threshold. Her blue eyes were intense, a hint of that same defiance still sparking, but her posture softened, uncertain as she scanned the room and found you. She looked like she had a thousand things to say yet no words for any of them.

“Jinx…” you whispered, the name feeling heavy on your lips.

She hesitated, chewing her lip before stepping closer, crossing the small space between you two with measured steps. “You… you didn’t have to wait around,” she muttered, her tone caught somewhere between vulnerability and pride.

“I wasn’t going to leave,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Not after that.”

A silence settled over you, and for a moment, you both just stood there, caught in the weight of the unsaid things, the worry and love that seemed to intertwine, complicated and unbreakable. She shifted her weight, her gaze finally dropping as if the confidence that had fueled her argument earlier was slowly peeling away.

“You really think I’m letting him control me?” she asked softly, the vulnerability in her voice threading through the tension.

You nodded slowly. “I think he’s changing the way you see things. And that scares me, Jinx.”

She glanced back at the doorway, the shadows of the hideout looming behind her, then back at you, her eyes wavering. “I… don’t want to be used. I just thought maybe, for once, I could… matter. Make a difference. Make him proud of me”

“You matter,” you said gently, stepping closer, feeling that familiar pull between you both. “You always have. But we can find a way without him. If he really loved you he would be proud of you no matter what. ”

Jinx’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, she looked tired. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. Then, reaching for your hand, she gave it a small squeeze, grounding herself in the warmth of your touch. “Guess I’m not always the mastermind, huh?”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “You’re still my Jinx.”

For the first time in hours, her expression softened, and she leaned into you, just enough to let the weight of her defenses fall away. And for now, it was enough.

As Jinx’s hand slipped into yours, grounding herself, you couldn’t hold it back any longer. The strain, the arguments, the growing fear of losing her—it all poured out at once. A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, and before you could turn away, Jinx was already pulling you into her arms.

You buried your face into her shoulder, clutching her tightly, the familiar scent of gunpowder and oil oddly comforting. She held you firmly, letting you release everything you’d held back. Her hands moved to your back, tracing small, soothing circles, each gesture wordlessly saying, I’m here.

After a moment, Jinx pulled back, her gaze softening as she took in the tear-streaked expression on your face. She reached up, her fingers delicate as she cupped your cheeks, brushing her thumbs against your damp skin. “Hey, don’t cry, toots,” she whispered, voice gentle, holding you like you were something precious.

Then, with a tenderness that took your breath away, she leaned in, her lips pressing soft kisses over each tear, one by one. Each touch was light, warm, melting the tension that had built up in your chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured between kisses. “I’m still here, still me.”

You let out a shaky breath, a flicker of relief breaking through the worry. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, Jinx. Not to anyone. Not to Silco.”

Jinx paused, her face inches from yours, her gaze serious. “You’re not gonna lose me,” she said softly, her hands never leaving your face. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

She held your gaze, her eyes fierce but softened by something raw and real. And in that moment, words weren’t needed. You knew, as long as you had each other, nothing else mattered.

As the days pressed on and Fishbones neared completion, you could feel the shift in Jinx’s energy, like a storm gathering on the horizon. She’d retreat into her projects for hours, emerging only to scribble some hastily thought-up addition or tweak in her blueprints. It was clear she was consumed, her mind caught in an unwavering current that seemed to pull her further from you.

One evening, as you stepped into her makeshift workshop, you found her crouched over Fishbones, tightening bolts with fierce precision. Tools lay scattered around her, and the look in her eyes was one of singular, intense focus. She didn’t even glance up when you came in.

“Jinx,” you started gently, taking a step forward. “Do you have a minute? I thought maybe we could talk… about Fishbones.”

At the sound of your voice, she tensed, setting the wrench down with a metallic clang. “Why do we have to keep talking about this?” she muttered, her eyes narrowed, the walls around her clearly rising higher. “It’s fine. Fishbones is perfect the way it is.”

“I know you put so much work into it, and it’s incredible, Jinx,” you replied carefully, feeling the words stick in your throat. “But some of these additions—do they have to be so… aggressive? I’m just worried.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, finally standing up to face you. “Why are you so worried all the time? It’s like you’re trying to put a leash on me, on Fishbones, on everything.”

“It’s not that,” you said, trying to hold your ground. “I just don’t want you or anyone else getting hurt because of all this. We can use Fishbones in a way that keeps you safe.”

Her eyes hardened, a stubborn glint sparking. “I’m not some little kid you need to protect, alright? I don’t need anyone telling me how to be me. And Fishbones? It’s gonna be exactly what I want it to be, no matter what.”

She turned back to her work, closing you out as she resumed tightening the last pieces. Each crank of the wrench echoed in the silent room, like the final snaps of a door shutting between you.

You planned the day carefully, choosing a quiet corner of the city where the hum of Zaun’s chaos softened. A hidden rooftop with a view overlooking the rusted skyline, a place far removed from blueprints, weapons, or talk of revenge. You laid out a simple picnic, filled with a few of Jinx's favorite things—sour candies, fizzy drinks, and a few pastries you’d found in Piltover.

When you finally coaxed her out, she looked wary, as though expecting some kind of trap. But the sight of you grinning, sprawled out on a soft blanket in the sun-dappled light, seemed to chip away at her guard. She dropped onto the blanket beside you, a smirk tugging at her lips as she popped a candy into her mouth. standing herself with her elbows 

“What’s all this?” she asked, looking almost amused.

“Just us,” you replied with a shrug. “Thought we could take a break, maybe slow things down a little. You’ve been working so hard, Jinx.”

“Didn’t know I’d earned myself a picnic,” she teased, though the way her gaze lingered on you gave away her appreciation. “You’re getting soft, toots.”

You grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Maybe I’m just smart enough to know when you need a break.” You handed her a fizzy drink, watching her expression light up as she took a sip, savoring the tart bubbles. She leaned back further, letting her eyes drift closed, soaking up the rare, quiet moment.

Jinx let out a soft sigh as she straightened up, now sitting, settling against you, her head resting on your shoulder as she relaxed into the calm, almost surreal peace of the rooftop. She popped another candy into her mouth, savoring the sour burst as she looked up at you, her eyes glinting with a familiar mischief softened by something gentler.

“This is too nice,” she murmured, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Feels like I should be suspicious.”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Guess you’ll have to let me surprise you for once.”

Jinx’s grin widened, and she let herself melt against you, her fingers tracing light patterns over your hand. “Fine, but only because you bribed me with candy.” She nudged her shoulder into yours, glancing up at you, eyes shimmering with an affectionate warmth that was rare to catch.

As you sat there, the sky around you dimming into softer shades, you could feel her focus shift entirely to you. She moved closer, the playful spark in her gaze softening as her fingers intertwined with yours. You gently cupped her cheek, feeling her lean into your touch, her expression caught between a smile and something deeper.

“I mean it, Jinx,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet rooftop air. “You deserve these moments, too.”

She looked at you for a long moment, her defenses slipping in the silence as if she couldn’t quite believe you were real. Then, without a word, she leaned up, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt like everything she couldn’t say out loud. Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin as she deepened the kiss, her touch warm and grounding.

The world around you melted away as you lost yourself in the kiss, feeling her relax and trust you in a way she rarely allowed herself to. Her fingers played at the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as her lips moved softly, passionately against yours, your own hands tangled in her beautiful blue hair. She pulled you closer, her energy warm, electric, and overflowing with a genuine care that was unmistakably hers.

When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her usual smirk softened into a smile that was only for you. She let out a small laugh, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “You’ve got a way of making everything else disappear, you know that?”

“Good,” you murmured, leaning your forehead against hers. “Because right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Jinx’s fingers laced through yours as you both sat there, tangled together under the dimming Zaun skyline, her laughter and the softness in her gaze anchoring you to the moment. It felt like, here on this rooftop, you’d found a sliver of peace—just the two of you, leaving the rest of the world far behind.

But then, somewhere below, the soft clink of metal against metal disrupted the quiet. You almost ignored it, brushing it off as the usual hum of the city, but then came a sharper clang and the distant rumble of machinery. Jinx’s grip on your hand tightened, her body tensing as her gaze drifted to the edge of the rooftop, where shadows stirred.

The playfulness in her expression wavered, giving way to something sharper, more focused. The laughter that had danced between you moments before seemed to fade, slipping away like a half-forgotten melody as reality crept back in, filling the space with a new, charged silence. You could see her eyes narrow, a flicker of determination setting in, as if the peace you’d found had only been borrowed and the world below was here to collect its due.

“Jinx?” you started, sensing her shift, the warmth retreating from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She sat up straight, her expression hardening as she focused on the chaos below. “It’s just… Piltover doesn’t stop, does it?” she said, her voice low, edged with frustration. “They think they can walk all over us, and I refuse to let them think they can get away with it!”

You followed her gaze, feeling a pang in your chest as you understood what was happening. The reminders of Piltover’s oppression—the flashing lights, the sounds of machinery, the chaos—were all too familiar and raw.

“Jinx, let’s not—” you began, but she cut you off, her words coming out sharper now, tinged with an intensity that sent a shiver through you.

“I can’t just sit here and pretend everything is fine!” she snapped, eyes blazing with a fierce resolve. “They’ve pushed us around for too long. I want them to see me—not as a joke, but as someone who can make a difference!”

The shift in her demeanor was like watching a switch flip. The softness you had nurtured moments ago was swallowed by the encroaching shadows of her ambition. You reached out, trying to anchor her back to the moment, to the laughter you had shared.

“Jinx, please, listen to me,” you urged, your heart racing as you grasped her hand, desperate to pull her back. “You don’t have to take this on alone. We can find a way to fight back together, without losing yourself”

But she shook her head, pulling her hand away as frustration bubbled up inside her. “You don’t understand! This isn’t just about revenge; it’s about proving I’m not weak. I want them to know I’m capable of more than they think. I can’t just be the girl who causes chaos—I have to be more!”

The passion in her voice, while powerful, filled you with dread. You could see the danger in her determination, the risk of losing the very essence of who she was to the chaos she was ready to embrace.

“Jinx, don’t you see? You’re more than just a weapon or a tool for revenge. You’re so much more!” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We need to find a way that doesn’t involve becoming what they expect us to be. You’re not just Jinx, the girl who causes chaos. You’re the one I love—the one who brings joy and laughter, even in the darkest times.”

She faltered for a moment, the fire in her eyes flickering as your words pierced through the haze of ambition. But it was only for a heartbeat before the shadows returned, darker and more insistent than before.

“I can’t just forget what they’ve done. I need to prove that I’m strong enough to stand up for myself and for Zaun!” she declared, her voice rising as her frustrations poured out.

The moment felt heavy, a chasm widening between you. You had tried to pull her back into the light, but the darkness she was drawn to was too strong, too seductive. It made you feel helpless, watching the person you loved wrestle with a turmoil you couldn't quite reach.

In that moment, you realized that while you could share laughter and joy, the echoes of Piltover’s cruelty were louder than any picnic or soft words. You both needed to find a way through this, but the path was obscured by her anger and the shadows of her ambition.

As silence enveloped the rooftop, you could feel the distance grow, the lingering warmth of the earlier connection now just a faint memory.

The silence hung between you like a storm cloud, heavy and charged. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and it felt as if the very rooftop was bracing for impact. Jinx’s eyes sparkled with determination, but beneath that, a flicker of uncertainty danced—a contradiction you hoped to expose.

“Jinx, I get it,” you said, voice rising slightly as frustration seeped in. “But this isn’t the way! If you keep pushing for revenge, you’re just playing into their hands. You’ll become exactly what they expect—a chaotic force, a weapon they can use!”

Her laugh was cold and bitter, slicing through the tension like a knife. “What do you know about what they expect? You live in your cozy little world while I fight tooth and nail every single day! You think this is a game?”

“It’s not a game, and I’m not ignoring what you’re going through!” you shot back, heart racing as emotions surged. “But sacrificing yourself to become a pawn in Silco’s plans isn’t the answer! You’ll lose everything that makes you, you!”

Jinx’s eyes blazed, fury igniting as she rose to her feet, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. “You don’t understand! I’ve spent my whole life being underestimated, being called a joke, a jinx. I have to show them I’m not just some crazy girl with a few tricks up her sleeve. I’m more than that! I have to make them fear me!”

“Fear isn’t strength, Jinx! It’s weakness!” The words slipped out before you could catch them, the urgency driving you to raise your voice. “You want respect, not fear! You want to be seen for who you really are, not just a weapon in someone else’s game. Can’t you see that?”

Jinx spun around, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “And how do you propose I do that? Just sit back and wait for them to see me? You think that will change anything? They won’t respect me unless I show them what I’m capable of!”

The heat of the moment intensified, and you stepped closer, desperate to bridge the chasm forming between you. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone but yourself! The people who truly care about you will see your worth without the chaos! Why can’t you trust that?”

“You’re not just a weapon. You’re brilliant, you’re creative, and you have so much potential! But this obsession with proving yourself is clouding your judgment!”  you urged, pleading with her to see reason

“Why can’t you just support me?” she yelled, eyes blazing. “Why can’t you see that I’m doing this for us, for Zaun? If I don’t take action, then what’s the point? I refuse to be a victim!”

“You think I want you to be a victim?” you shouted back, exasperated. “I want you to be safe! I want you to be happy! But you’re running headfirst into danger, and it’s tearing us apart!”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to pull me away from my goals!” she snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You don’t get to dictate what I can or can’t do! I’m not your little project to fix!”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of hurt and anger swell within you, but you fought to keep your composure. “I’m not trying to fix you, Jinx. I just want you to realize that you don’t have to do this alone! We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to be a part of your little team anymore!” she spat, her voice rising with each word. “I don’t need you holding me back!”

In that moment, the air between you crackled with tension, your emotions swirling into a whirlwind of hurt and desperation. Jinx stood before you, a whirlwind of defiance and ambition, and yet beneath it all, you could sense the fear of losing herself to the chaos she felt compelled to embrace.

“Jinx, please!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the weight of your plea. “I don’t want to lose you! You’re so much more than this rage and chaos.”

For a fleeting moment, the fire in her eyes wavered, and you could see the conflict churning within her. But it was quickly masked by anger once more. “You think I can just forget everything that’s happened? That I can pretend like Piltover isn’t crushing us every day?”

“I don’t want you to forget, but I want you to fight differently!” you exclaimed, stepping forward again. “You have the power to inspire people, to bring them together, to create change without losing yourself in the process! Please, just think about what you’re sacrificing!”

Jinx's eyes flicker with intensity as she steps back, her voice rising, “Do you think they’ll ever let me be anything else? The council, the enforcers—they see me as a criminal. Nothing I say or do is gonna change that.”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “But pushing them further won’t help, Jinx. You’re just giving them more reasons to hunt you down.”

Her jaw clenches, lips curling into a mocking smirk. “So, what, I just sit back? Let them make all the rules?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you insist, struggling to keep your tone calm. “But every time you go after them, you’re risking more than just your life. There’s so much more here—so much more to us.”

Jinx scoffs, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, like she’s torn between you and something much darker. “Maybe I don’t want them to have the last word.”

You step closer, lowering your voice. “And maybe I just want to keep you around a little longer.”

For a moment, the defiance softens, and she’s looking at you with something vulnerable, something almost gentle. But it fades quickly, her expression hardening again. “They’ve got you wrapped around their finger,” she mutters, pulling back.

Jinx’s words linger in the air, sharp and unyielding, but you refuse to let her pull away entirely. “I’m not on their side, Jinx. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She tilts her head, blue eyes narrowing in suspicion, her defiance still on full display. “Safe? And what do you get out of it, huh?” There’s a flash of something raw, almost accusing, as if daring you to admit you don’t understand her world.

Your hand finds hers, grounding her even as she looks ready to bolt. “Maybe I get to be around you. Just you, Jinx, not the fighter or the name they give you, but...you.”

Jinx’s smirk twists, her hand slipping out of yours like a shadow. “You think you can just talk me out of this?” Her tone turns mocking, eyes gleaming with something more volatile. “You think that’s all it’ll take to make me just… sit pretty, like some lapdog?”

“Jinx, that’s not what I meant,” you say, trying to keep calm. “I’m just saying that if you keep pushing this—”

“Then what?” she snaps, voice rising as she takes a step back, crossing her arms defiantly. “Then what happens? They take me down? They throw me in Stillwater?” Her voice is laced with venom, each word daring you to challenge her.

You hesitate, and that’s enough. She seizes it, her eyes narrowing. “See? Even you don’t believe I can make it out of this. You’re just like them.”

“That’s not fair,” you argue, feeling the sting of her words. “I’m here, aren’t I? I left everything to be with you!”

Jinx’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t relent, her gaze icy. “Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you’re just as blind as they are, thinking you can fix me.” Her words hit like a slap, each one colder than the last.

For a moment, you’re both silent, the air thick with hurt and frustration. Then, without another word, she turns, walking away before you can say anything else, leaving you alone in the hollow silence of her retreating footsteps. The storm you both had danced around finally erupted, and you felt the distance between you grow wider, the rooftop now a battlefield for hearts torn apart by ambition and fear.

You took a deep breath, your heart heavy with the weight of your earlier words. The air felt thick with unspoken words, the silence between you heavy as you struggled to find the right thing to say. You couldn’t let the anger fester between you; you needed to reach her before the distance became insufferable. So, you made your way back to the workshop, where the clatter of metal and the faint smell of burning circuits filled the air.

As you stepped inside, the scene was nothing less than chaotic, Jinx sitting in a stool surrounded by blueprints and makeshift weapons, her brow furrowed in concentration. But the moment you entered, she looked up, and her expression shifted—defensive, as if she expected an attack.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. The defensiveness in her voice was like a shield, her anger a barrier against your concerns. It hurt to see her like this, closed off and unapproachable.

“Jinx, please, I want to talk,” you said, your voice soft but urgent. “I need you to listen to me.”

“What could you possibly say that I haven’t already heard?” she replied, turning back to her work, her shoulders tense with unspoken frustration.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your earlier argument heavy in your chest. “I want to apologize for what I said. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. I care about you more than anything, and the thought of losing you terrifies me."

Her laughter rang harshly in the cramped workshop, an indication of the walls she had built around herself. The tension hung in the air, a physical thing you could almost touch

“Jinx—” you started, but the words died in your throat when you caught a glimpse of a list she had spread across the table. As you leaned closer, your heart dropped. Among a scribbles of names, one stood out like a dreadful sight—your mother’s name, circled in red ink.

A memory flickers through your mind, warm and vivid. You recall a sunny afternoon when you were a early teenager, sitting on the porch with your mom, her laughter filling the air as she recounted stories from her own youth and listened to your struggles. You can almost feel her hand on your shoulder, her hugs, the comfort of her presence, her arms surrounding you. But now, that warmth feels cold and distant, faded under the weight of what you've learned.

The shock washes over you like a wave, pulling you under. You think back to the sweet moments you shared, and how quickly they turn bitter. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you struggle to process the contrast of that joyful day and the grim reality now laid bare before you.

“Why?” The word escapes your lips in a whisper, raw and laden with confusion and sorrow. Tears filling your eyes.

In that moment of clarity, you realize the stakes have changed. The girl you once knew and loved seems faded, and you’re not sure if she’ll ever come back. You lock eyes with Jinx, her expression shifting from mischief to concern. She can see the turmoil within you, but you’re not sure how to voice the storm brewing in your heart.

“Jinx, I—” you start, but the words don’t come. All that’s left is the weight of the moment, and the understanding that everything you care about is in jeopardy.

“What is this?” you whispered, your voice trembling along with your hands. 

“What does it look like? It’s my plan,” she snapped, her voice hardening as she faced you. The defiance in her eyes only masked the uncertainty that lay beneath, a wall you desperately wanted to tear down.

Your heart raced, shock settling deep in your gut. “This is a joke, right? You can’t be serious about this. My mother… she’s not your enemy. She’s done so much for people in Zaun trying to defend them against the rest of the council.”

“Your mother is part of the council,” she shot back, her tone cold. “She’s part of the problem.” Jinx’s words cut deep, fueled by resentment that had festered over the years.

“You don’t understand!” you cried, stepping closer, desperate to make her see. “She’s a good person! You don’t know what she’s done for this city. And you think killing her is the answer?”

Jinx crossed her arms defiantly. “It’s not personal; it’s necessary. If we want to change things, we have to take out the root of the problem!”

You processed her words for a couple of seconds.

“Necessary?” you echoed, disbelief lacing your voice. What about the cost, Jinx? Do you really believe this will fix anything? You’re playing with lives!”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “You keep saying I should just sit back and let Piltover crush us. You don’t know what it’s like down here!”

“I do know!” you shouted, the frustration boiling over. “I left my family for you! I chose this life because I believed in us! But you’re losing yourself in this havoc! You don’t have to lose yourself to fight back! You can be strong without becoming a fucking monster!”

Her eyes flashed with anger she stood up, and stepped closer, her voice dropping dangerously low. “And what if I want to be a monster? What if I want to prove I’m more than just the girl you fell in love with? I can’t be weak anymore!”

“Prove yourself? By hurting innocent people?” you pleaded, tears falling down your cheeks. “That’s not strength, Jinx! That’s surrendering to the dark!”

For a moment, her expression flickered, a crack in her fierce facade. “You don’t understand anything!” she shouted, hitting the table with her fist, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her.

“Then help me understand!” you cried, feeling the tears spill over. “You’re pushing me away, and it’s breaking my heart! You don’t have to do this alone!”

The air between you crackled with tension, the fight spiraling into something deeper, more painful. You watched as Jinx wrestled with her emotions, caught between the hatred she felt compelled to embrace and the light that flickered within her. You could only hope she would choose to come back to you, back to the love that had once defined your world together.

You can see the storm brewing behind Jinx’s eyes—a mix of fury, confusion, and fear. “You don’t get it!” she shouts, throwing blueprints into the air, her voice breaking as she struggles to keep her composure. “Every day, I watch Piltover take everything from us. They don’t care about our lives, our pain! If I don’t fight back, then what’s the point?"

“Fighting back doesn’t mean becoming a killer!” you urged, stepping even closer, the desperation in your voice rising. “I understand your pain, I really do. But don’t let it consume you! You’re better than this!”

“Better than what?” she shot back, her fists shaking at her sides. “Better than taking control? Better than standing up for myself? I’ve spent my whole life feeling powerless, feeling weak. I won’t let that happen again!”

“Then prove that you’re strong enough to fight for change without sinking into the dark!” you pleaded, your own voice thick with emotion. “You can be a hero without losing yourself!”

Jinx scoffed, and you could see the mask of defiance slipping. “A hero? For who? For your precious council? They’ll just keep pushing us down while they live in their shiny towers! What do they care about us?”

“I care about you!” you shouted, the words pouring out in a rush. “I left everything behind for you, Jinx! Your voice trembled with the truth of your sacrifice, the raw emotion behind it echoing in the silence between you. You could feel your heart racing as you laid bare your feelings, desperate for her to understand the depths of your commitment. “You say you want to prove yourself, but this isn’t the way! You’re not a monster; you’re so much more than that!”

Her breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into her fierce expression. But then she shook her head, frustration returning. “You think I can just turn my back on all of this? On everything I’ve worked for? You don’t see what it’s like for us! You’re blinded by your privilege!”

“Blinded? I chose this life! I chose to be with you!” you countered, anger and heartbreak blending into one. “But it feels like you’re choosing to push me away instead!”

Jinx’s gaze hardened once more, but the wavering in her voice betrayed her. “You don’t understand what it means to fight for your life every day, to feel like you have to become something you hate just to survive!”

“Then let me help you! Together, we can find a better way to fight—one that doesn’t destroy you in the process!” you urged, feeling the tears spill down your cheeks. “You’re not alone in this! You don’t have to be!”

“I’ve always been alone!” she shouted back, her voice rising with the pain of her past. “Do you think you can just swoop in and fix everything? You just think you know what it’s like!”

“You’re making it impossible to understand you! You’re shutting me out, and it’s tearing us apart!” you reply, stepping closer, heart racing as tears stream down your face like a waterfall.

The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your argument hanging heavy. Jinx’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the fire of anger flickered, replaced by something deeper—a vulnerability she was struggling to confront.

“Every time I try to do something, it’s never enough,” she admitted, her voice trembling. The vulnerability in her admission caught you off guard, revealing the internal struggle she faced—the crushing weight of expectations and perceived failures. “I feel like I’m drowning in this chaos, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

“Then let me be your lifeline,” you urged, reaching out to cup her face in your hands, wiping away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “You don’t have to bear this alone. We can face this together.” You stepped closer, your heart pounding as you tried to reach her, to show her that she didn’t have to fight this battle by herself. Your desperation to connect was palpable, a lifeline you hoped she would grasp.

But just as quickly as it appeared, her mask snapped back into place, and she pulled away from your touch. “I can’t risk losing you like I lost everyone else! I won’t let you down with me.”

“Jinx, you’re not going to lose me if you let me in!” you cried, your heart aching with every word. “But if you continue down this path, you won’t just lose your fight; you’ll lose yourself completely.” The gravity of your words hung in the air, a warning that resonated with both of you. You could see the flicker of fear in her eyes, the realization of what she stood to lose beyond the immediate struggle. “And I can’t bear to watch you destroy who you are.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, both of you catching your breath from the weight of the confrontation. Jinx stood there, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, caught in the crossfire of her own inner demons.

“Just… just go,” she finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I can’t face this right now,” she murmured, her voice cracking as she stepped away from you, the distance feeling insurmountable.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I won’t leave you like this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” she shouted, the anguish in her voice ripping through you. “But I can’t stop this. I need to do something! I have to prove that I’m not weak!”

“Prove yourself by being strong enough to choose love over hatred!” you pleaded, your heart racing. “By choosing to fight for a better future, not just revenge!”

Jinx faltered, the fire in her eyes dimming as the weight of your words settled over her. But just as quickly, her fierce expression returned, anger bubbling back to the surface. “You don’t get it! You have no idea what it’s like to fight for survival!”

“Then let me in, Jinx!” you yelled, frustration mixing with desperation. “Show me! Let me help you! But don’t push me away!”

The chaos of the workshop faded into the background as you stood there, raw and vulnerable, hoping for a spark of understanding to break through her defenses.

But as Jinx’s eyes searched yours, you saw the conflict raging inside her—a storm of emotions battling against the walls she had built around herself. You could only hope she would let you in, that she would choose love over the darkness that threatened to consume her.

You watched as Jinx’s expression hardened once more, the flicker of vulnerability snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the workshop, the door slamming behind her with a finality that echoed through the chaos.

She didn't return the next hours, days stretched into an agonizing blur, each moment dragging heavier than the last. You found yourself wandering through the cluttered workshop, tracing the familiar paths your fingers had taken alongside Jinx. Yet, the space felt emptier without her laughter and chaotic energy. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of her absence, and the worry gnawed at your insides like a relentless hunger.

Every time you thought of her, your heart ached at the image of her battling her demons alone, becoming someone you hardly recognized. It made you cry every. single. time.

One morning, after a particularly restless night, you woke to an odd feeling. The workshop was still, the hum of machinery absent, just as it had been since Jinx left. You padded over to the workbench where Fishbones usually lay, a symbol of Jinx's chaotic brilliance. But as you peered closer, your heart sank. The spot was bare; the blueprints were scattered, but the centerpiece of her latest creation was gone

“Jinx?” you called, your voice trembling in the stillness. But there was no response, just the echo of your own fear reverberating back at you. You ask yourself when did she came back, and why did she leave without a word.

Panic surged through your veins as you began to search the workshop frantically, rifling through the scattered tools and half-finished gadgets. You felt a sense of dread pooling in your stomach. “Where did you go now?” you whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air.

You forced yourself to remember the last time you’d seen her, the angry tears in her eyes and the fierce determination in her voice. She was on a mission—one you didn’t understand, one that scared you more than you could express. You ran a hand through your hair, pacing the room, your thoughts spiraling out of control.

Maybe she had gone to confront the council, to put her plan into action without you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t let her do this alone, couldn’t let her plunge deeper into the dark. Not when you could still reach her.

With a renewed sense of urgency, you grabbed your coat and headed out, determination pushing you forward. You had to find Jinx before it was too late.

As you burst out of the hideout, the chaos of the streets collided with the weight of your heart. Gasps filled the air, and the acrid scent of smoke stung your nostrils. But nothing could prepare you for the sight that greeted you: a massive bomb soaring through the sky, headed straight for the council’s hall.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, horror washing over you as the realization sank in. You knew Jinx had been plotting something, but you hadn’t expected this—this was more than chaos; this was devastation. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you turned and sprinted towards the council building, fear pushing you forward.

Your heart raced as you burst into the council chamber, dread settling in your gut as the horror unfolded before you. The chaos of the scene blurred the edges of your vision, each moment stretching painfully as reality sank in. 

The remnants of the explosion painted a devastating picture—flames flickered hungrily, consuming the walls, and the air was thick with acrid smoke and the bitter scent of ash. The acrid scent of burning debris stung your eyes, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. And there, amidst the charred wreckage, lay your mother’s body—still and lifeless, a tragic stillness that felt like the world had shattered around you.

An unbearable weight pressed against your chest, Memories still flashing before your eyes: her laughter, the way she used to tuck you in at night, the warmth of her embrace on the darkest days. Each recollection a reminder of the love that had once seemed so invincible, suffocating you in your disbelief. 

As you fell to your knees beside your mother, the world around you faded into a blur of smoke and flames.”Mom.. mom please wake up, I'm so sorry, mom please, Im sorry” you begged, hoping that this was all just a dream. You reached out, fingers trembling, desperate to feel her warmth. But as your hand met her cold skin, a bone-deep realization shattered through the haze—this was real, and she was gone.

Then you heard hurried footsteps, and Caitlyn appeared, eyes wide with shock, horror painted across her features. She froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the devastation around her. But beneath the surface, there was something else—something darker. As her gaze landed on your mother’s body, disbelief washed over her, and she staggered back, nearly collapsing.

“Mom! No!” Caitlyn cried, her voice cracking as she knelt beside your mother. Tears streamed down her face as she gently shook her shoulder, desperation etched across her features. “Wake up! Please… you can’t leave us like this!, mom please!”

For a moment, it seemed she might break under the weight of her grief. But then her gaze snapped to you, fury igniting in her eyes. “Y-You did this!” she shouted, her voice slicing through the air like a knife as she stood up. “You chose that bitch over us! You couldn’t see it, could you? You were too busy chasing after a lost cause!”

“Caitlyn, I—” you started, but she cut you off, advancing toward you, anger radiating off her like heat from a fire.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” Her fists clenched, trembling with rage. “You had a family who loved you, who wanted to protect you. I loved you, more than anything, and you threw it all away for a girl who’s nothing but a psycho! You think this is love? Look where your choices got us!”

“I didn’t know!” you cried, the reality of your decisions crashing down on you. “I thought I could help her! I thought I could make her see!”

“See what?” Caitlyn’s voice rose higher, piercing your heart with every word. “That she’s a monster? You think she cares about you? Look at what she’s done!”

“I didn’t want this! I never wanted any of this!” you shouted back, tears streaming down your face. “If I had just listened—”

“Exactly! If you had listened!” Caitlyn’s voice cracked, emotion spilling over. “But you were too caught up in your fantasy! You think she loves you? All she’s ever done is use you! And now look at what it’s cost us!”

“Stop!” you yelled, feeling the walls close in around you. “You don’t understand! I was wrong! I thought we could be happy together!”

“Happiness?” Caitlyn scoffed, bitter laughter spilling from her lips but the tears never stoped. “You think you could find happiness with someone like her? You’re delusional! This is your fault! You’ve destroyed everything!”

“No, Caitlyn! I loved her! I thought I could save her! I thought I could prove them all wrong!” You were sobbing now, every word heavy with regret. “I didn’t think—”

“Of course, you didn’t think! You never do!” Caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fury. “You only think about yourself and your stupid feelings! You’ve ruined our family because you couldn’t keep your head on straight!”

“Don’t say that!” You felt a fire ignite within you, fueled by your pain and loss. “You don’t know anything about love! You think pushing me away would have kept me safe? You just wanted to control me, to make me into someone I’m not!”

“Control?” Caitlyn laughed again, but it was a hollow sound. “You think I wanted to control you? I wanted to protect you! But you were too blinded by your infatuation to see it! And now—” Her voice broke, and for a moment, you saw the hurt beneath her anger. “Now, we’re all paying the price. You played your part in moms murder and you know it”

You choked on a sob, the weight of her words crushing you. “I never wanted to hurt anyone! I thought we could find a way to make it work! I thought you’d understand!”

“Understand what?” Caitlyn shouted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That you chose her over your own family? That you let her drag you down with her? You think she cares about you? You think she’s worth this?”

“Stop! Please stop!” you screamed, feeling the pain radiate through your chest. “You don’t know what it’s like! I thought she could be good! I thought I could be her light!”

“Light?” Caitlyn spat, the venom in her voice cutting deep. “You were just another toy for her to play with! You’ve wasted everything, and for what? For someone who will never change, for some piece of shit that killed our mother?”

“I was trying to save her!” you shouted, the realization crashing down on you. “I thought I could save her, but now... now I see what I’ve done! I swear Cait just please forgive me, i can't lose you two!, please Cait” your voice broked as you whispered the last sentence.

Caitlyn stepped back, her face pale, disappointment etched into her features. “It’s too late for that now. You’ve lost everything, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for this.”

The silence that followed was deafening, each of you standing amidst the wreckage of your family, the ruins of your love, and the body of the one person who had always believed in you. You felt hollow, the pain cutting deeper than any blade. Your sister’s words echoed in your mind, each one a reminder of the choices you had made and the lives that were now forever altered.

And as you both just looked at each other, the weight of your shared grief hung heavy in the air, a chasm between you that felt impossible to bridge. You had sacrificed so much for love, and yet, all you had left was the realization that in chasing after Jinx, you had lost everything that truly mattered.

The memories of laughter, warmth, and the comforting presence of your mother felt like a distant echo, now shadowed by the haunting truth of her absence. You closed your eyes, tilting your head down, trying to hold onto the fragments of those fleeting moments—her voice guiding you through life, the way her smile lit up your mood when everything felt like it was falling apart.

But now, every recollection was tinged with regret. You had followed a path paved with devotion to Jinx, believing it would lead to happiness. Instead, it had brought you to this desolate place, a barren landscape where love had turned to ashes. The bright flame of your passion had flickered out, leaving behind only the heavy smoke of loss.

You had given up everything, and for what? A chaotic whirlwind of emotions that left you empty.

In that moment of despair, you understood that love, while beautiful, could also be a cruel trick. You had thought you were strong enough to carry it all, but now you felt like a shell of the person you once were, lost in grief and heartache.

The silence around you was deafening, filled only with the echoes of your sorrow. And as the tears fell freely, you were left to confront the truth—some sacrifices were too great, and in the end, love could sometimes lead to a loss that felt insurmountable.

The silence around you was deafening, filled only with the echoes of your sorrow. As the tears fell freely, you felt the burden of the truth pressing down on you like a heavy weight—some sacrifices were too great, and in the end, love could sometimes lead to a loss that felt insurmountable.

Through the haze of your grief, a thought pierced the fog. You looked at Caitlyn, your heart aching with a mix of desperation and fear. “Caitlyn… am I going to Stillwater?” The question hung in the air, fragile and raw, reflecting the uncertainty that had taken root in your chest.

Caitlyn’s expression shifted, caught between sorrow and something darker. “I don’t know,” she replied, her voice low. “After everything... I don’t know what they’ll decide.”

The words felt like a cold slap against your skin. “But I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I thought I could fix things.” You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “I thought I could save her.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before,” Caitlyn said, the sharpness of her words cutting deep. “You had a choice, and you chose her. Now we all have to deal with the consequences.”

Your heart sank further at her words, but you couldn’t shake the fear clawing at your insides. “Caitlyn, please. I can’t go to Stillwater. I can't lose you too!” The plea spilled from your lips, desperate and raw.

She turned away, her shoulders trembling. “You already lost me. You made your choice.”

As you watched her walk away, a hollow feeling settled in your chest, the chasm between you two feeling unfixable. You had sacrificed everything for love, yet in the end, it was you who stood alone, lost amidst the ruins of your choices.

In that moment of despair, you understood the cruel irony: love, while beautiful, could also be a devastating force, leaving only ashes in its wake. And as you hold beside your mother’s lifeless body, the reality of your situation bore down on you like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable.

You had chased after a dream, only to awaken to the nightmare of your actions—a nightmare that now threatened to swallow you whole.