#so i guess they all really nameless until i bring it up

[nicktremblaywayfu]

Got the chance to ask Outlast Trials's artist aka Hugo Richard about Big Grunts and good to know he approved the brown haired big grunt as Danny 👀 👀💖💖

He didnt expect people (me) will love him, so it was a good surprise for him hehe. So yeah, i guess Danny is half-canon now since it's approved the his creator. May or may not ask J.T Petty about it when i have the chance

Update : my friend gave another confirmation of nickname so yeah 👀💖

Those, ofc, are also not actually canon (like duh) but it's nice to see the creator of trials characters loving all this nicknames and happy that people loves the big fellas.

Ps : i cant believe i have to say this, but this is not a demand to call them like what the post said. You all are free to call them whatever nickname anyway

[writeforfandoms]

A Lonely Place - 3

Find my Soap masterlist

The last part of this fic, and my last entry for Soap It Up hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Let's see if you guys can find which prompt I used this chapter.

Discoveries are made, scarves are knit, and somehow things work out.

Warnings: Swearing, Feels, seriously more Feels, bit of anxiety, nameless characters, a familiar face shows up (if you read Gaz's zombie au fic).

Word count: 2.1k

Days passed easily with them - you helped out in the kitchen, learned how to chop firewood, and met several other members of the little community. 

It was very different from anything you'd experienced before. It really was a community - everybody knew everyone else. It was common to see at least one of the four protectors out and about. 

But you saw the most of Soap. Johnny, he offered, after a few weeks. He was funny, and kind of sweet, and very competent. 

He even showed you how to use the knife to protect yourself. 

It wasn't long until you were missing him when he was gone. Until you debated inviting yourself over to the house. 

But you always talked yourself out of it. 

The weather turned colder, making you glad for the heavy coat you'd picked up, and for the sweater you were finally almost done knitting. 

Somehow (you suspected the MacTavishes), word got out that you could knit. The first request came from a woman a little older than you with two children. 

“Could ye make scarves?” She asked, reaching out without looking to grab the younger of her two children. “Something warm.” 

You shrugged, absently scratching the back of your neck. “Yeah, should be able to,” you agreed, looking between the two. “I've got enough yarn.” 

She grinned at you. “How long?”

You shrugged. “How soon do you need them? I can have them ready in a week, if you're in a rush.” 

“Perfect. What do ye want in return?”

That stumped you, and you shrugged again. “Not sure, really.” 

She harrumphed but nodded. “Ah'll bring ye somethin’ good,” she promised before she strode away, little ones in tow, leaving you blinking after her. 

Well. Guess you'd better get to work on those scarves. 

You pulled out all your remaining yarn, frowning down at the spread on your bed. You already had the yarn set aside to finish your sweater, thankfully. Which left you with a few skeins. Not a huge selection, but you'd make it work.

At least it all felt like wool, rather than synthetics. 

“Runnin’ out?”

You jumped at the question, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish coming. “Oh, uh, yeah. I suppose so.” You shrugged. 

“Hmm.” She leaned a bit to one side to look around you and clucked disapprovingly. But she was bustling off before you could ask, muttering to herself too fast for you to parse what she was saying. 

Leaving you bewildered, blinking after her. 

Then you shrugged and picked out one of the remaining skeins. Fortunately it had already been wound into a ball, so you didn't have to worry about that. 

Without any pattern books or your usual online resources, it would be pretty plain, but it would be a warm scarf at least. 

It was only two days later that Johnny and Gaz stopped by the house. You'd finished your chores already and had settled comfortably on the couch to try and finish up the first scarf. The door opening caught your attention, and you looked over just as the two tromped inside. 

“There ye are!” Johnny hopped over the back of the couch to drop down near you (though not on top of your yarn, thankfully). “Doin’ alright?” 

“Same as two days ago,” you agreed with a little laugh, shaking your head. “Which is when you last saw me.” 

Johnny pouted, exaggerated and over the top. “Ah cannae even check on my favorite knitter?” 

“I'm the only knitter,” you pointed out dryly, though you were trying to hide your amusement. 

“Tha's beside the point, bonnie.” Johnny grinned at you, reaching over to tug playfully at the end of the scarf. “And what's this, then?” 

“A scarf for one of the kids,” you answered, swatting at his hand but not trying very hard to hit him. “One of the moms asked for her two, so I guess I'm taking commissions now.” 

“Brilliant idea.” He sat up straighter, eyes bright. “Be a big help, too.” 

You snorted. “For these two kids, sure. I'll have enough yarn after that to maybe make a few hats, but that's it.”

He blinked, just once, and then nodded. “Ah see,” he murmured, something calculating in his gaze. “Good thing she asked first then, aye?” 

“I suppose,” you said slowly, eyeing him. You weren't sure you liked that look. “What brought you over, by the way?” 

“Oh, that.” He reclined again, arms spread along the back of the couch. “We'll be goin’ on a supply run. Wanted ta see if there's anything ye need.” 

You shook your head. “No, I've got things, I'm fine.” 

“Ye sure? We find all kinds ‘a things,” he wheedled, leaning a little closer to you. 

You just shrugged, because you couldn't think of anything you needed, except yarn. And that was a long shot. Better to ask for nothing, so you wouldn't be disappointed. “I'm okay.” 

Johnny looked like he wanted to argue more with you, but the back door opened and the other three came in. So he simply sighed through his nose and stood, offering you a hand up. 

Dinner was lively with the two additional people. It helped that Gaz and Johnny played off each other beautifully, keeping the entire table entertained. 

After dinner, Johnny pulled you out front with him while Gaz was still chatting with his parents. 

“Gotta be somethin’ you want,” Johnny wheedled, still holding your hand from when he'd pulled you out the door. You didn't mind, heart fluttering at the gentle press of his thumb against the back of your hand. 

Your lips twisted and you looked down at your linked hands. “It doesn't matter what I want.” 

“Course it does.” Johnny leaned closer, tugging your hand gently to pull you in closer. “Anythin’ ye want, promise ah'll find it for ye.” 

Your lips parted at the sincerity in those blue eyes, mouth going dry at the promise. 

But you didn't have a chance to respond. Gaz stepped out the door and nodded to you. 

That was enough for you to smile and pull back, shielding yourself again. “Stay safe,” you said instead of giving him anything else. “Come back bite-free or I'll be very upset.” 

Far from being deterred, Johnny's head tipped, gaze laser-focused on you. “That what ye want?” He asked softly but no less intense. 

“Yes.” You met his gaze and didn't back down this time, briefly squeezing his hand. 

He nodded decisively, a brilliant smile breaking like sunlight across his face. “See ye in a few days,” he promised. He darted forward to press a kiss to your cheek, warm and fleeting, before he walked away. Gaz grinned at you, eyes warm, before he jogged after Johnny. 

You pressed a hand to your cheek and tried to deny the warmth blossoming in your chest. 

It didn't work.

You spent the next five days thinking about him in between your work. Chopping wood? You wondered where Johnny was, how far they'd traveled. Knitting? You hoped they were staying safe and avoiding the infected as much as possible. 

You couldn't deny that you wanted him to come back safely. You wanted to see him. 

Even if you couldn't yet admit to yourself why.

The fifth night, someone new came over for dinner. She introduced herself as Kyle's partner. (It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize she meant Gaz.) 

The best part was that she brought fresh bread and cookies with her. The cookies were the best you'd tasted, and you told her as much. 

You walked her outside, shivering briefly at the chill in the air. 

“They're fine, you know.” 

“Hmm?” You blinked at her, half-turning to her. 

“I worried the first few times they went out, too.” Her smile was soft and a little embarrassed. “I still worry, honestly. But they take care of each other.”  

You nodded slowly, though you eyed her curiously. “Why are you telling me this?” 

She rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, come on. We both know you're worrying about Johnny.”

“I'm not–! I mean, not that much.” You floundered for a moment, looking away even as your heart stuttered in your chest. 

She clucked her tongue. “Honestly, you're not really fooling anyone,” she chided gently. “You care for him, we can see that much. And he's a good man, he deserves someone to fuss over him.” 

You huffed. “He's sweet,” you muttered, still looking away. “And he's a good friend.” 

She laughed, stepping forward and patting your shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that,” she said with a cheeky grin and a wink. “Get back inside before you freeze. I'll see you soon.” 

“Stay warm,” you replied, stuffing your hands in your pockets and watching her take the first few steps away. Only when you saw her flashlight beam moving steadily away did you go back inside. 

You tossed and turned all night, unable to stop thinking about your conversation with her. Were you really so transparent about your feelings? Your… regard?

Just thinking that made you feel too much like a Victorian novelist. You snorted and rolled over to your other side. 

Clearly, you were not as subtle as you thought. You smothered your groan in your pillow. It was fine. It would be fine. 

It had to be fine. 

You delivered the two completed scarves by midday the next day, taking more fresh bread back with you, with the promise of some kind of sausage to come. 

Idly, you kicked a rock down the dirt road, debating what else you could do. You could make a few more hats - probably one each for the MacTavishes, to make sure they stayed warm enough. Beyond that? You'd have to wait and see. 

“Bonnie!” The cheerful call yanked you from your thoughts, and you blinked a few times as your gaze focused on Johnny. Hole and hale and safe, standing in the doorway. He positively beamed at you as he jogged the distance to you. 

“You're back.” You blinked at him once more, your brain still rebooting a little, even as your heart fluttered and swooped. 

“Aye, safe n’ sound, as promised.” He stopped in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. “Are ye busy?”

“Right now? No.”

“Good.” Johnny wasted no time in pulling you along with him, ignoring your little yelp. You gave in, laughing a little, and let him tug you back to the other house. He chattered the entire walk, telling you about where they'd been, some of the things they'd seen. It was comforting, having him near, holding your hand, talking your ear off. 

You had a brief glimpse of the others in the kitchen, mugs on the table, supplies scattered around in various stages of packing or unpacking. But Johnny didn't give you time to do more than wave with your free hand before he was tugging you up the stairs. 

“Johnny,” you half-protested, laughing a little. “What are you doing?”

“Ye'll see.” He let go of you only to put a hand in front of you. “Closer yer eyes.”

“What?” You blinked at him, startled. 

“Eyes closed.” He wiggled his fingers at your face height. 

With a huff, you gave in, closing your eyes. The door clicked as it opened, and for a moment you stood with no indication of what was going on. 

“Gonna guide ye forward,” Johnny murmured just before one big hand landed on your shoulder, the other taking your hand again. You moved cautiously, hand holding tight to his, uncertain but willing to trust him. But he guided you true - you didn't so much as bump into anything. 

“Okay,” he murmured, keeping hold of your hand. “Open yer eyes.” 

You opened your eyes and gasped. The entire bed was covered in yarn. Skeins, balls, balled remnants, in all colors and sizes. It was more yarn than you'd seen in ages. “This is… incredible.”

“Ah found more, but Price wouldnae let me fill the car with yarn.” Johnny shrugged when you looked at him, his cheeks pink, even as he continued talking. “But is close enough we could get the rest another time, aye?” 

You stared at the yarn for a moment longer, and then turned your gaze to Johnny. He'd brought all of this back. For you. Just for you. 

You tugged your hand free, but only so you could cup his cheeks, cutting off his nervous rambling. You kissed him. 

Johnny made a noise, something startled that you thought of as a squeak. And then he was kissing you back, eager hands cupping the back of your head and your back, pulling you in closer. 

When the two of you parted, neither of you went far, both of your lips shiny.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, fingers scratching through the longer hairs at the back of his head. “For all of this.” 

Johnny just smiled, bright and besotted and incandescently happy, and kissed you again.

[b1adie]

I've been struggling with the words when informing people about the Niosi situation, but there was a comment I found on a Youtuber's video that got me thinking, especially after Puatu's comments. And also the revelation that he has put in work for Mihoyo before as an NPC in Genshin.

(Youtube Video here: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UC_yia0JOts&pp=ygUJbXVqaW4gaHNy )

The comment in question is from Deidara'slilstudent.

I get to an extent that someone doesn't get to dictate if someone can work or not, BUT...

This isn't about work, it's success.

Someone like that simple doesn't deserve success like HSR.

Period.

Not only do the victims but the public AND employers of Niosi CAN and SHOULD dictate this.

Griffin's employer should NEVER have put him in this current position by hiring Niosi.

Griffin's employer should have NEVER allowed the things Niosi has done to stain HSR va's.

By association, Griffin and others now have to deal with this drama and continue to do so until Niosi is promptly kicked out of the job.

Niosi NEVER should have been hired for HSR.

By all means he can keep the nameless roles like "screaming bystander C" and etc

I think the comment brings up a lot of good points, though I am torn on whether or not he should continue being in the industry. Ideally, a private facing job would be ideal, but I highly doubt that will happen with his connections.

Following the news that Niosi has been outed from HSR as Moze's voice actor, but with the knowledge that he's still technically in the industry (and Hoyo has yet to respond to Puatu), what do you think should be done from here?

iiii guess i dont really know? i’m just someone who plays the game idrk how the whole industry works and everyone so i dont think im the best person to ask what should be done lol. i guess imo i would prefer he’s kicked out entirely but i dont think thats very realistic. and puatu has been fired from at least 3 other roles so far so i think he’s shitting himself rn. but like i said i have no clue how the voice acting industry really works so i can’t really answer this

[n-anon]

DisMay 2019 Timeline

this is highly inspired by Fins ( @fear-is-nameless)  timeline series, I noticed that no ones really gone and done a timeline (that I’ve seen) for the discord and youtube incidents of May 2019, so I’m gonna do it, about 4 years late, hooray :P

Hit the keep reading cuz this is gonna be long!

along with tagging fin I should probably tag @isas-theory-wall​ and @jselorekeeper​ for this

May 7th

So ironically we’re getting to the bottom of this, by starting with the video of ‘I’ll Get to the Bottom of This...’ Where, we have Jack, playing a 3 scary game video, but right in the first game, something goes wrong and we here a very distorted voice thanking us for our ‘contribution to the video/his death’

May 21st

The start of Observation! And just like that game, we get quite a lot of references sprinkled throughout, and a very concerning ending clip of Jack disappearing at the end after a bunch of symbols flash on screen, along with him mentioning he loves wormholes and space

Meanwhile in the discord a few hours after this, a channel called ‘cgzintom’ in zalgo opens up, and we see familiar faces talking, along with ‘Jack’ who doesn’t seem to know who they are (called BoopyDoopy at this time) after which Chase tells ‘Jack’ he needs to wake up, the chat is deleted:

The  ‘ cgzinotm‘ code was infamously solved by yours truly, as its a Shift Cipher that means ‘Watching’

May 22nd 

FNAF VR’s first part comes out, and while nothing is glitchy about the video, Jacks whiteboard in the background has a familiar number lineup of 101610 

which while formatted wrong, is very close to 10/10/16 aka Anti’s first appearance and birthday, also in fun RGB colors!

On the same date, Jack uploads part 2 of Observation, where he not only glitches into the intro but continuing the creepy endings, we get to see a slow r moving camera focusing on the ship, which is flooded with ominous red lighting, until a very familiar silhouette appears in one of the many glitches.

May 23rd

Jack uploads Observation Part 3! And we get a very familiar neck movement, and our favorite phrase. Time is Broken.

May 24th

FNAF VR again! But this time. Theres a very familiar face. Along with a very familiar wheeze

Oh but thats not all, if you guessed ‘whats next another weird discord thing?’ Then you’d be CORRECTTTT. (you see why this was called Dismay?) A few hours before Observation Part 4 is uploaded, the mods begin acting....A little strange. And Jack himself begins...glitching. And it keeps happening, right as part 4 is uploaded, so we’re split between lines-

the mods begin trying to corrupt the others....and ask odd questions

Lauralie appears to be okay...But not for long

Now lets get to the meat of the matter, aka Observation Part 4 after ALL of that, theres no going back now- and Jack himself? Stuck in a loop, along with the words ‘Bring Him’

May 27th

3 days later, everythings back to normal, the mods are fine, jacks fine- But whats this? FNAF VR part 3 with a steel chair??? Theres a code here too! as stated in my code guide earlier its ‘Big plans’ in Enigma

June 5th 2019

While technically not in May, the final part of FNAF VR (and this large saga) Was uploaded in which there was a code on the whiteboard yet again, this time in ASCII85, which translated to ‘you can’t look away’

[fereldanwench]

1 and 4 for the couple questions! Really curious about these! 👀

If they have been asked, choose any other questions you might like.♥️♥️

Oooh, I love these ones! 💙 You've unlocked The Rambling, haha. It's gonna be a long one:

1. What do they think of each other’s family? And how does the family feel?

Goro doesn't really have to worry too much about assimilating into a new family because most of Valerie's biological family is either dead or estranged by the time they meet. 😅 She's an only child, her father died in 2058, and her mother died in 2063. Valerie does have some aunts, uncles, and cousins on her mother's side, but they live on the east coast of NUSA, and she hasn't seen them since she was about 11.

The only two blood relatives she has in Night City are her uncle, Ed, who is her father's oldest brother, and his adult daughter, who I'm still working on and doesn't have an official name yet. 😅 Ed is kind of a piece of shit--He runs with the 6th Street, but he's basically a low-level goon who deals drugs to kids. The last time he saw Valerie was around 2075 when he got wind that she was doing very well for herself and tried to get money from her.

I have been thinking about a way for Valerie and Goro to meet him for some reason during the in-game timeline, but I don't have anything solid at the moment. Goro and Ed would not get along at all, but Valerie isn't fond of him either, so no love lost there. (Nameless cousin is still a total mystery to me--Currently leaning towards a journalist, but I have no idea.)

And of course there's Mama Welles. Valerie's relationship with Mama Welles was always just a little tense--Valerie was just not used to having a mother figure that involved in her life and personal business, and even though Mama Welles always meant well, it could be a little smothering to Valerie. But they do stay in touch even after Jackie dies, and Valerie does bring Goro over for at least one good homecooked meal when they're in Night City.

Mama Welles is a little wary of Goro's allegiances at first, but Goro puts on the gentlemanly charm and wins her over pretty quickly. She sees he cares very deeply for Valerie, and she's glad her pseudo-surrogate daughter has someone in her life that makes her happy.

As for Valerie with Goro's family... I'm holding off on anything solid about Goro's family until Phantom Liberty. If CDPR gives us nothing here, I'll headcanon Goro a whole ass family tree, but I'll give Sir Weber a little more time to share his official backstory before I make up my own. 😅

However! @lizzy--wizzy gave me an absolutely adorable idea about Valerie meeting Goro's father for the first time, and I would love to make something like this a part of their canon: Basically, Goro comes back to Japan after several years living in NUSA with this gorgeous, tall, bright blue-haired woman at his side, and his father looks up at her and then at Goro and is like "You just disappeared to another country for 10 years and then you come back home married to a supermodel???? Explain."

4. How do they compare to each other’s exes? Are they the same “type” or an upgrade/something different?

Man, I'm overflowing with thoughts on this one--I don't even know where to start, haha.

I guess I'll start with their romantic/sexual pasts for some context:

Valerie slept around a lot in her early-to-mid 20s, and she was not particularly discerning about who she shared a bed with during that time. It was very much a maladaptive coping mechanism from dealing with feeling abandoned and isolated after losing her parents, losing her job, losing her status, losing her (admittedly shitty and fair-weather) friends as a result of losing her status--Basically after losing any sense of direction in her life. She was very lonely but also didn't want to really let anyone in emotionally. The majority were just one-night stands with anyone she thought was hot and into her.

She didn't even really consider pursuing a long-term relationship until she was in her late 20s/early 30s, but by then she was also working for Arasaka which demanded a lot of her time. Most of those relationships were with other corpos who understood the grind and tended to all be emotionally unavailable one way or another, and they usually only lasted a few months, tops. Valerie did often gravitate towards people who could be a little prickly on the outside--She loves the little victory of getting a smile out of a sarcastic grump.

Then when Valerie decided to go sober, dating became even harder since going out for drinks or doing ~*luxury drugs*~ were such a huge part of the corporate dating scene. She was almost completely celibate for about two years.

Valerie and Viktor did briefly have a thing after she was fired from Arasaka, but between his own intimacy issues and her kind of using him for a sense of comfort after her life got thrown upside down again, that one also didn't last more than a few months.

As for Goro: much like with his family, I'm holding off a little long until I commit to anything concrete for Goro's romantic past, but I've indulged here a little more:

I absolutely love the idea of Goro being a wild playboy during his youth, so I think he probably had his fair share of indiscriminate flings as well until he found that 'Saka discipline. I could see him also having, like, one fairly serious relationship when he was young but starting to settle down a bit, but it fell through for whatever reason: Goro had to commit fully to Arasaka, that partner got married off to someone else, etc. Pick your tragedy.

I don't think he was ever married, though, and I think once he became Saburo's bodyguard, Goro didn't even entertain the idea of having a long-term romantic relationship. I think it would have been highly discouraged if not outright banned.

I do think he would occasionally enjoy the company of others, though, with the explicit understanding that it couldn't be more than sex (maybe dinner if he really liked them). Probably with other high-level Arasaka employees who were in a similar position but still craved physical companionship from time to time. I think he'd be drawn to people who were at least like him on the outside--Reserved with refined taste and a clear understanding of their purpose in the organization--But deep down he craves connection with someone more spirited who could challenge him.

So, to finally answer the actual question, lmao: How do they compare to each other's exes?

In both cases they're mostly something different, but that's also mostly because they never really let themselves have relationships with someone who they could deeply connect with. They are each other's type--They just tried to deny it to themselves for most of their lives.

(Goro is more oblivious and then surprised by his attraction to Valerie than vice versa, though. 😅 Valerie is like "Of course I fall in love with the most unattainable man in the world while I'm actually dying. This is exactly why I don't want to have any feelings." And Goro is more like "It is not love. I just trust her with my entire life, and often my stomach feels weird when she smiles at me, but it is just something I ate in this shithole of a city. Probably.")

[couple questions]

[thezanyarthropleura]

More artwork for Gamera vs. the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: A different kind of angel.

Ayana shook her head, looking at the floor. “I’m not sure I know anything, for sure, but… if there’s one thing I do, it’s that I didn’t really want anyone to get hurt.” She hiccupped the last word as a tear dropped to the floor, the tentacles all flinching around her as if having an instinctive urge to provide aid. “It just… took me so long to realize that, that I’d already done things I couldn’t come back from. I told myself I was honoring my parents, while I killed hundreds of innocent people.”

Karai’s eyes flashed with stunned recognition. She remembered Irys, from when it was just a nameless demon descending on Kyoto. How this girl was related to it, though, she couldn’t dare to guess. Daughter, her mind supplied, and she still wasn’t sure if that was possible.

Or in what way she’d meant it.

“I went so far.” Ayana looked up, blinking away tear-stained eyes. “So far, until I’d pushed away everyone I cared about, or worse. I ignored what I wanted, what I needed, for so long, that by the time I realized it, it was too late to change. Too late for anyone to save me.” Her eyes darted to the window and back, and the glance seemed to calm her, or perhaps just to bring her back into the moment. “Anyone except Gamera.”

Karai felt her grip on her tanto shaking, the point lowering. If this girl, Ayana, had a game, she’d found it now, and maybe it really wasn’t a game at all.

“So, tell me the truth, Karai,” Ayana begged, without force, without judgement. “The real one. Tell me what it is you truly want. And if it’s impossible…”

The two tentacles on her left side moved into action, a candescent glow building within the hollowness of the bone-like points that arranged themselves pointing out in parallel from her body. Winding around one another and widening their angle to a cone, the points let loose a pair of thin, Gyaos-style sonic beams toward the side of the tower, cutting indiscriminately through the thinner window, the much thicker wall, the edge of the sliding door, the floor, and the ceiling until a large chunk simply fell out of the building and presumably left a crater on the street below.

“…I’ll make it possible.”

And as she said those words, her tentacles drew back around her, the upper pair splitting from the opened pincers and nearly the whole way down their lengths into a pair of brilliant, light-refracting, membranous wings. The lower pair of pincers shrank away and disappeared into the now-fleshy points of their own tendrils, which also started to split only a foot or so each, producing softer, webbed-finger ends whose movements also caught the light in the same way.

The wings crossed the width of the hallway and even seemed limited by the space, and the lower tendrils tentatively reached out as if they were offered hands waiting to be taken. Despite the strange, overwhelmingly alien, and perhaps instinctively unsettling nature of the display, Karai discovered she could only really describe it as angelic – and only then, did she remember that true angels were unsettling, frightful beings that evaded clear definition.

[aclanby-anyothername]

a clan by any other name.

prev | info | next

leaf-bare, year 1. moon 9.

content warning: blood, animal injury (major)

no snow was to fall that leaf-bare, just as it had not fallen on those lands in many, many moons. the nameless clan did not notice its absence, but i did. it saddened me deeply.

… enough about me, though. there were far more pressing issues at that moment. namely, the senior cat that was currently running across the woods, a dark trail of blood marking his path.

he desperately wanted to scream, to call for help, to use all of the power in his body to wail … however, he was afraid of attracting any further attention, and so he remained quiet.

he had been running, off and on, for over an hour at that point. he dare not stop running, lest what he was running from - who he was running from - catch up to him. he could not stop. if he did, he was sure that would be the end.

and so he kept running, his mangled leg trailing behind him, until he could not run any further.

that moment came sooner rather than later. in an instant, his vision went blurry, and he began to lose strength in his remaining legs. unable to fight what was happening, he stumbled to the ground and went unconscious.

???: (is this … is this really how it's all going to end? how disappointing …)

mothpaw: "careful! he just made a funny face …"

dustcloud: "i'm trying! i haven't had to do this since before you were even born …"

???: (who …?)

breezepelt: "do you think he'll be okay?"

dustcloud: "i … i don't know."

amberflame: "focus."

creekleap: "that's a lot of blood. good thing we have all those cobwebs stored up, yeah?"

???: groan

mothpaw: "look, he's waking up!"

mothpaw: "h-hi! we're glad you're awake. are you okay?"

???: "…"

mothpaw: "hello? can you hear me? are you okay?"

dustcloud: "don't push him, mothpaw. he shouldn't be exerting himself right now."

???: "i …"

his world went dark once again.

someone: "dustpaw! hey, dustpaw!"

???: (where … where am i?)

dustpaw: "w-whoa, slow down! what's got you in a hurry like that?"

the senior cat could only partially make out the scene in front of him. he tried to call out to the figures, but they could not hear him. he had no choice but to watch.

someone: "dustpaaaaaaw!"

dustpaw: "what?"

the other cat stood in front of dustpaw, grinning.

someone: "dustpaw. guess what."

dustpaw: "… i dunno."

she rolled her eyes. dustpaw was avoiding her gaze.

someone: "come on, guess!"

dustpaw sat there for a moment, lost in thought.

dustpaw: "did … did hollowtooth bring you a gift?"

the other cat looked at dustpaw as if he had said something heinous.

someone: "what? no! hollowtooth has been a complete grump lately."

dustpaw: "then what -"

she did not give him time to respond.

someone: "copperstar says i'm grounded again!"

dustpaw blinked.

someone: "can you believe him? the nerve!"

dustpaw: "oh, i … i'm sorry?"

someone: "if anyone should be sorry it should be HIM. what gives him the right to tell me what to do, anyway?"

dustpaw: "starclan, presumably."

someone: "ugh!"

the other cat slumped down next to dustpaw, defeated.

both of the cats were silent for a while, the rowdier of the two periodically scratching the dirt beneath her as deeply as she could.

someone: "… let's run away together, dustpaw."

dustpaw looked up, his eyes wide, and he choked on air.

dustpaw: "wh - sorry?"

someone: "you know what i said. let's run away together. nobody likes me here, anyway."

dustpaw: "but - that's not -"

she smiled sadly.

someone: "you don't need to spare my feelings, you know. i don't think they like you, either."

dustpaw: "…"

dustpaw: "… no."

someone: "what, you don't believe me? have you seen how copperstar looks at you when he thinks you're not looking? it's like he's seen a ghost! how is that fair to you? you haven't done anything wrong."

dustpaw: "no, i believe you. but i'm not going with you, bluepaw."

bluepaw: "…"

dustpaw looked up, and it was like his entire demeanor changed in an instant. bluepaw was taken aback at the sight.

dustpaw: "i … i don't want to give up. whatever reason copperstar is so distant with me, i want to prove myself to him. i want to become a warrior. and … i don't want to leave my friends. what about you?"

bluepaw: "…"

"… ugh, i hate when you're right."

the two sat in silence once more. every once in a while, bluepaw would look over to dustpaw, but his eyes were fixed firmly on a spot far beyond bluepaw's head.

eventually, dustpaw got up.

dustpaw: "did you … wanna go prank feathersong with me?"

the anxiety washed away from bluepaw's face immediately. she flashed a mischevious grin.

bluepaw: "i thought you'd never ask."

the senior cat's eyes opened once again, this time to a more familiar site. he was also in a great amount of pain. unable to hold his voice in any longer, he swore loudly.

dustcloud: "oh! you're awake. that's a relief …"

???: "hmph. relief for you maybe. this is the worst pain i've ever felt in my life."

dustcloud: "oh, sorry. i didn't mean to offend."

???: "hmph."

the cat paused, eyes squinting as he looked dustcloud up and down.

???: "looks familiar …"

dustcloud: "what?"

???: "oh, nothing, nothing."

a tense silence permeated the air, occasionally punctuated by the senior sucking in his breath.

dustcloud: "… may i ask what your name is?"

???: "cave."

dustcloud: "it's … it's nice to meet you, cave. my name is dustcloud."

cave: "hmph."

cave coughed, a fleck of blood escaping his lips. dustcloud looked away.

cave: "where're the others?"

dustcloud: "oh, they're out hunting. once they get back, we're all going to go check the perimeter -"

cave's memories resurfaced instantly, and his eyes grew wild.

cave: "WE NEED TO RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! HURRY!"

dustcloud's head spun around in a panic, trying to find the source of cave's duress.

dustcloud: "whoa - slow down - what's wrong?"

cave shook his head.

cave: "there's no time! we have - we have until nightfall, or else - or else - !"

dustcloud: "no! don't stand up so suddenly. your leg …"

as quickly as cave had stood up, he fell to the ground, his newly-bandaged leg crashing under his weight. he let out a hoarse scream, and dustcloud winced.

cave: "go without me if need be! RUN!"

dustcloud: "p-please! you can't be putting any more stress on yourself. please calm down."

cave continued to breathe heavily, but he said no more. dustcloud dare not say a word.

cave: "… fine. stay here, then. get what's coming for you."

dustcloud was growing increasingly frustrated, and it leaked out into his voice.

dustcloud: "what are you TALKING about? i don't understand."

cave: "you want to know how my leg got like this, right? here, let me tell you …"

prev | info | next

[writersfearofrecognition]

Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

Chapter 6:

19:44

„Jacob said something weird before the van broke down. like directly asked how you could break a van down.“

„suspicious.“ „yeah. i told him one day wouldn’t make a difference between you two but he didn’t really believe me.“ „well my strategy is to stick to as much people as possible, so we can’t talk about feelings.“ i get a shiver when i say that word and she laughs at my expression.

„you’re helpless aren’t you?“ „shut up.“

„Mh…“ she thought about it, „no. miss feelings and mister himbo are best entertainment i have at the moment.“ „not mister broody?“ „broody is going after the dj man. i’m content as a lonely warrior.“ „sure.“ „excuse you? i am.“ „mhm.“

she shoves me off the bench and stands up herself to watch the view.

i sit back down and make my game plan.

well. i had no idea.

Jacob obviously wanted to talk to me before we went home.

i obviously never wanted to talk to him ever again.

well.

exaggeration.

not until we were home.

but i also did not want to be alone at night in these woods without a real adult.

because we all most definitely were not real adults.

„ugh.“

staying with them it was.

let’s see what the evening brings.

„Guess what?“ Dylan emerges from the bushes with Ryan in tow.

my mind gets thankfully distracted by sex dungeons and tree houses.

20:15

the sun had set, Jacob had lost the privileges for his favourite snack and now, we were all gathered around the fire.

i was sitting next to Kaitlyn, so Jacob was out of my sight.

maybe mean but no feelings. thanks.

„Hey Dylan can you play one direction?“ Emma suddenly asks and all eyes fall to her, „What? i was 13 once too?“ „you were a directioner?“ Abi asks and Emma sighs, „Dylan can you, or not?“

Dylan fumbles his phone, „yeah, i guess, why?“ „because i always sang one song with all the girls in theatre and yeah…nostalgic you know.“ „you nostalgic?“ Abi asks again and Emma rolls her eyes with a smile.

„what song?“ Jacob asks suddenly.

„18.“

oh.

Emma smiles and Dylan shrugs before playing it.

„louder. and don’t you dare talk during it.“ she orders us and we all listen to the song, some more hesitant than others.

Kaitlyn was shoving me the second the song came on.

the implications were so obvious even i got them.

„yes i know Kaiti, can you stop?“ „shhh.“

„sorry.“ Kaitlyn and i say at the same time.

the silence is deadly, this song is too ugh.

thank god i have my saviour from weird social interactions: nipping at a bottle.

the beer tastes like ass but what to expect in this…yeehaw county.

Emma surely wanted to start something again.

i try to block out the song and look at my…friends.

Ryan was looking into the fire, or Dylan’s hand i couldn’t tell.

Abigail and Nick were sneaking glances at each other and Emma’s eyes were darting all over the place.

but she gives me another smile when she catches me looking at her.

the song ends and Dylan clears his throat. „permission to speak?“ he asks and Emma nods with a wide grin.

„let’s…play a game.“

Dylan brought up the idea to play truth or dare and i already knew what shit Kaitlyn was going to get up to.

especially when she asks if she can make people kiss.

i give her a shove when she said that but she only grins her cheshire grin.

he starts with Abigail who gets the first awkward question but he saves her from the possible embarrassment.

because she couldn’t decide, Emma takes her turn and makes Ryan kiss Dylan, i couldn’t keep my smile contained. at least one of our gang got some love tonight.

Ryan asks Kaitlyn and she chooses Truth. „like a pussy.“ i mutter and she shoves me this time but i dodge and take a drink from my beer with a smirk.

„So you, (Y/N) and Jacob go way back, right? like, since you were kids?“

„Sadly, yes.“ Kaitlyn says and i laugh because i know she didn’t mean that. maybe if she drank enough tonight the others would meet the real Kaiti as well.

Jacob sighs while looking down.

„Lame question, bro. waste of a turn,“ i hear him, but Ryan just talks over him. Dylan leans forward and i caught a short look at him. did he have tears in his eyes?

oh shit-

i jump forward before he raises his head completely and catches me looking. that would not help the feelings conversation.

„you guys ever, ah, get down to business together?“ i smile at the memory and forget my fear of today again.

„nothing between (Y/N) and i, but when we were in middle school i made Jacob let me practice french kissing on him…but…it never went any further, cause he’s a terrible kisser…! and i was like kissing my brother. ew.“

i bust out laughing at memory of the shriek she let out after they tried that.

„still love ya, bud!“

Jacob frowns and leans back.

something was wrong.

he was so happy like 2 hours before.

„what’s wrong with Jacob?“ i whisper to Kaitlyn and she looks over for a second.

„mad cause he wasn’t picked. i’ll change that don’t you worry hunbun.“

there was her scary grin again…shivers crawl up my back and i take another confidence swing of beer, the nickname hunbun was the worst sign there was.

„Kaitlyn who do you choose?“ „Jacob.“ he lightens up and sits up straight.

„Tru-.“ „Dude, dare. dare. dare.“

i couldn’t help but smile at his hyper demeanour.

fuck. focus.

Emma giggles and my eyes wander to her, she gave me an air kiss and i catch it which makes her grin even more.

„Jacob, so you have to kiss Emma…or…“ Emma’s eyes widen and she looks away, i take another sip since apparently i would actually see them kiss now.

great.

„(Y/N).“ my eyes widen and i set off the bottle as Kaitlyn leans back to make me visible to everyone.

i swallow slowly and look in Jacob’s eyes for the first time this night.

He’s drunk.

on beer and testosterone.

my head is spinning. did i even eat anything today?

everything to distract me from this.

he grins and Kaitlyn leans back even further, visibly content with herself, giving me a last look before turning to Emma.

Jacob and i actually never kissed before. not even as practice, i heavily denied that offer back when Kaitlyn made him do it and even in truth or dare one of us always veto’d.

Jacob stands up and i’m back in reality.

„did he already decide?“

„no. i. haven’t. my dear (Y/N).“ Jacob says as he swings back and forth with every word.

„huh?“

our friends giggle and Emma leans back as well.

well she knows what’s happening again huh?

Jacob climbs over Dylan’s long legs and gives Kaitlyn a fist bump which i greatly disapprove.

„Kaiti?“ „sorry Hunbun.“ „HUNBUN!“ Emma giggles again, now her phone ready.

„Yeah Hunbun.“ Jacob mutters and i stand up, shoving my beer into Kaiti’s chest.

the minimum for what she just did.

the hunbun-nickname-feeling is spreading in my stomach like the disease it is.

i look up at Jacob only now noticing the height difference between us. „Jake…“ „shhh we have an audience.“ he teases and i close my mouth again.

my mind completely blank.

his right hand snakes around my waist and drags me closer to him, i yelp once i’m pressed flush against his body.

those damn pecks.

he laughs.

„did you mean to say that?“

his left hand weaves through my hair and lifts my head.

he looks totally cool from outside but his eyes are twirling with panic.

mine probably too.

„maybe.“ i mutter, it was too late now anyways.

„huh.“ he says and i close my eyes when he lowers his head.

our lips meet and something releases inside of me.

finally.

his fingers grip into my hip and push me even closer, goose bumps explode at the spot where his hand is and i smile into the kiss.

Jacob’s tongue breaks out and i let it in.

in my head fly by all the times where i had butterflies for him. could butterflies be described as a form of disease?

when he teased me about him finally being taller. the first time he had that stupid black baseball cap on. when he threw me over his shoulder for the first time. when he found out how good he looked with longer pushed back hair, when he saw me in my cheer uniform. during his first game. homecoming. the whole first summer after he was team captain. every fucking time he picked me up with his van. at every party. and every damn day in this stupid camp.

„fuck. Kaitlyn you were right.“

i break the kiss but don’t let go.

wait when did my arms snake around his neck?

Kaitlyn looks at me confused.

„With that?“ „him being a bad kisser?“ Emma asks, phone still in hand.

„no. No. not that. what you told me.“ Kaitlyn grins and shrugs.

„Dude?“ Jacob asks and his hands leave my body, just like my arms slide off his chest.

„She just noticed that she likes you, Bud.“

„Kaitlyn, wtf.“

„It’s the truth.“ „how about not in front of god and the world?“ i whisper-yell and Emma hold her camera full onto me.

i stare into the lens and huff.

„Emma can you fucking not?“ „what?“

„ugh.“ i storm off.

Jacob stands still like statue. „why does she always run off?“ „Well go get her, idiot.“ Emma says and finally puts her phone away.

„Kaitlyn you get my turn.“ Jacob points at his wingwoman and runs after me.

Kaitlyn hums and smiles watching him leave.

„So Emma. you to kiss…“

20:42

i come to a stop at the boathouse, but before i can walk to the dock, Jacob yells my name and comes to a halt next to me.

„hey…“

„hi.“ i say and look at his boots.

„hunbun.“

„don’t say that.“ i huff, but the smile still breaks out and he smiles as well.

„it’s a stupid name.“ „no. i like it.“ „great.“ i turn away but he pulls me back.

„we kissed.“

„yep.“

„and Kaitlyn said you like me.“ „…yep. but i…mean…friends kiss each other right?“ this was the part where he would reject me, it would be better if i just acted like…i didn’t care.

somewhat…

he stays silent and i finally get the courage to look up.

„…why are you crying?“

„do you not like me?“

„what? Jakey. i-. fuck.“

i wipe away the tears on his cheeks and sigh when i hear his quiet sniffs.

„i just don’t like to talk about my feelings,“ i mutter embarrassed. „yeah, yeah i know….but…you do. with everyone else. Kaitlyn knows you love her, all our other friends knew you liked them too, but you never…“ he breaks off and looks down at me with wobbly lips.

fuuuck i’m such an idiot…

he had cried often in front of us, just like Kaiti and i did, but this time…it hurt. really fucking hurt. 

„okay. i know…it’s just…my feelings for you are the most important ones. and i guard those…when Kaitlyn rejects my friendship that doesn’t hurt as bad. but with you…“

„huh?“

he doesn’t understand.

„do you like me?“ i ask instead and stare into his eyes.

„yes.“

„Platonically?“ „what?“

„as friends or…more?“

„i asked first…kind of.“ he shrugs and i can’t help but smile.

„i don’t not like you, Jacob.“

he huffs and turns his head away.

„That’s a fucked answer.“

i sigh, „jakey…i-.“

„no, it is. dude, we never talk about this shit-.“

„this shit?“

„us. we. i dunno the pronouns.“

the corners of my mouth jump up and he notices and smiles a little before coming back to reality.

„like, dude. we’re faking it for like 15 years.“ „huh?“

what?

„uh- maybe only i was faking it.“

„Faking what?“ my voice shook with fear.

what did he mean, our friendship? did he secretly hate me all this time?

„like…the plantonic shit you said.“

oh thank god.

„platonic.“ „yeah that.“ he looks at me, waiting for my answer.

wait- so? he? what? i’m confused.

„so?“ he ask again, getting kinda impatient, something rarely seen.

„i…i’m scared you-.“

a scream was heard in the distance.

„fuck did you hear that? was that Abi?“ i immediately ask and grab his hand.

„that was not a good kind of scream.“

i give him a bitch-what look and he mumbles a sorry.

„we have to check it out.“ i drag him with me.

„uh yeah…okay…“

i run into the woods with his fingers in mine.

A/N: somehow i do love miscommunication tropes when i write them...

[venusguks]

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

[sirowsky]

The Lost Island

Chapter 13 - Found Homes

Summary: Marcus finds himself trapped between trying to save you and keeping the rest of the Heroics from thinking that he's an enemy.

Author's Note: Thank you all for being so patient and understanding! This part is conversation heavy, and something of a game-changer I guess. Hope you'll like it <3

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, angst. Word Count: 7430 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

In the Heroics medical bay, Ms. Granada was arguing with one of the senior physicians on staff, while monitoring Marcus, who was still asleep from the tranquilizer.

“Dr. Pinto, are you telling me that we can’t keep him sedated? How many times have you scanned and tested this man? You know every cell in his body, for pete’s sake.”

“It appears as though his powers have… changed, somehow. They’re burning through everything I give him so fast that it soon won’t make any difference how much I push into his system.”

“But powers can’t change, doctor. Not after twenty years.”

“Not to our knowledge, but his has, all the same.”

As if to accentuate his words, all electronic devices suddenly fried, even though the patient was still asleep. Dr. Pinto was getting truly concerned now.

“Ms. Granada, why do you need him sedated at all? He’s one of ours.”

“And yet he tried to keep our people from securing a dangerous alien. And now both you and members of the team are telling me that I can’t even trust his powers anymore. I need time to investigate, to understand what’s really going on here.”

“Well, I think your time just ran out.”

A kind of pressure had settled into the room, and small sparks were beginning to fly in between Marcus and anything metal around him.

“Damn it. He’s gonna be so pissed.”

“I do believe he already is, Miss.”

<><><><><>

Marcus woke up already boiling with anger, sitting up to find a doctor he knew well, and his boss standing beside his bed, although a good six feet away. The atmosphere in the room was already pressing, but once he was fully conscious, the entire room was suddenly buzzing.

“Where is she?”

They both looked a bit scared of him at first, but hearing that seemed to utterly confuse them, as if it was literally the last thing that they’d ever expected him to say. Ms. Granada was the first of them to offer an answer.

“Oh, Missy? She’s with your mother at home, we didn’t see fit to bring her here until-…”

“No… damnit…”

He hadn’t even thought of her, he was so focused on you. And hearing that she was with Anita, he allowed himself to keep focusing on you, since your situation was much more dire.

“I’m glad she’s alright, but where’s Pita?”

They exchanged a look which he didn’t like, and then the doctor addressed him.

“Marcus, I need you to try and help me understand something. When she was brought in, Sec was showing no signs of cognitive function. No response to sensory input or any type of drugs. But when we scanned her brain, the electrical activity in there was off the charts. Now, that kind of reading would ordinarily suggest a brain that’s merely asleep but still functioning normally, whereas Sec appears to be in a coma, which simply doesn’t make any sense.”

Practically everyone in this building referred to you as Sec, because you had this slightly mean way of always introducing yourself only as Security to any new people in the building, because it allowed you to gauge their responses better. Whereas introducing yourself as Head of security always earned you automatic respect, making it harder to evaluate their character. By making yourself nameless and without rank, people tended to think of you as a mostly insignificant foot-soldier and lowered their guard around you. It was perhaps an unkind approach, given the deception required, but it was also terribly effective. Dr. Pinto handed him a tablet with the readings he’d previously mentioned, and Marcus studied them closely.

“Are you sure this is accurate?”

“Quite. We re-did them three times. Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure this isn’t her doing.”

He kept studying the chart of electric activity as it repeated itself on a loop on the tablet, and the more he looked at it, the more convinced he became that it was alien. There was just something about the rhythm to it that reminded him of how they sounded when they spoke telepathically. The doctor, however, was only more confused now.

“But… then what could it be coming from? It’s a scan of her brain, we got these readings from her.”

“The fucking thing is still alive; how many times do I have to kill that damned island?”

That caught Ms. Granada’s attention.

“What do you mean, you killed the island? You’re not powerful enough for that. Are you?”

He ignored her questions when his thoughts took off with this new information.

“Where is she?”

“I’m not gonna tell you that until you answer me.”

He glared at her, and the room began to darken, but she held her ground. It wasn’t until the fluorescent lights were dimmed to less than half their usual brightness, that the doctor grew nervous enough to answer. It would seem Pinto would rather have his boss furious with him, than an unpredictable super with unknown powers.

“Three rooms further down the hall.”

He all but jumped out of bed and headed for the door, wearing only hospital trousers and ripping the electrodes off his bare chest as he went. But when he got there, the doors wouldn’t open, and Ms. Granada, who had followed him there, tried to explain.

“You can’t see her yet, there are too many questions still unanswered, I need-…ah!”

She cut herself off with a small and surprised sound, when dark threads of energy effortlessly forced the double doors open, breaking them in the process, and he walked in to find an entire medical team around your bed. They paid no mind to his entrance, and kept working while he approached the bed slowly, terrified that he’d find you in an even worse state than before. But as he rounded the foot of the bed, not disturbing the staff, and got to your side, he found you in exactly the same condition as he’d last seen you.

“I need you all to step away from her for a moment.”

A low hum of voices that had filled the room from their quiet speculations, turned into deafening silence as everyone stopped talking and turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

“I have no idea what might be about to happen, but there’s every chance it could get very dangerous, so please, step back.”

“Marcus, what are you gonna do?”

He ignored Granada’s question and took a moment to consider whether this was likely to hurt you, while the staff moved all the way back to the broken doors. It was possible that it would, but he had to know if he was right. He took your hand and allowed himself to be comforted by the feel of your skin, warm and alive against his own, before he gathered up just enough electricity to give you a jolt that would pass through your entire body. One single string from his shield-energy slipped from his hand, and he watched it go from semi-transparent and slightly pearly white, into deep purple, as the dark energy joined it. It crept along your arm and over to your chest, settling over your heart, and he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, cariño.”

The bolt was significant enough to make your body jump off the bed for a fraction of a second, and pain crept into your expression. But beyond that, nothing happened. He stared closely at you, looking for any sign of change or just the tiniest reaction, while his boss expressed her displeasure with his experiment.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve killed her, and since when do you have that kind of electric powers?”

Everyone, including the staff over by the door, jumped backwards when you suddenly sat up and ripped all the monitoring devices off your skin. Your movements were fast and efficient, but automated, robotic almost, and Marcus could tell that it wasn’t really you. When you were done with all the wires, you swung your legs over the side and stood up, and he instinctively got in your way, putting his hands on your shoulders to stop you. But something glimmered in the air around you then, and a mere second later, a splitting pain in his head brought him down to his knees and shortly after, everyone else went down as well. It was so intense that even the pressure of his own eyelids against his eyeballs was excruciating and searing sharp pain, as if being burned with a white-hot iron rod, travelled down his neck and spine, making him cramp up. He fell to the side on the floor, in an angle that allowed him to see you as you slowly started walking for the door, although the tears caused by both the pain and the terrible brightness of the room, made everything blurry and all the colours melted into one another. But he saw you stop before you got to the broken entrance, and he blinked the tears away to see what looked like a shiver or something go through you, and then you turned back to look at him. And it was you. His Pita, and the sweetest badass of a woman he’d ever met. For a moment it was you looking back at him, and then the muddiness returned to your eyes, and you were gone again. Seeing you, even for a moment, was enough to make his heart override his brain and nerves-system, and he turned his powers on himself, trying to burn what he assumed were some sort of spores, out of his body, and the pain disappeared as abruptly as it had started. It took him a while to get his body moving again, though, and while he was still trying to coerce his already sore and spent muscles into working properly, you were once more heading for the door. Using the threads of his shield, he gave each of the medical staff and Ms. Granada a measured jolt, to rid them of the crap too, and it worked. However, the burn of the electricity wouldn’t help you, because he’d already shocked you and the stuff was clearly still alive in there, but he needed to do something, even if it was just to restrain you so that he would at least be able to keep track of you. But before he could do anything, a movement in his periphery caught his attention, and he turned his head to make sure that it wasn’t what it had looked like. It seemed that he was out of luck, though, because what he found was a small black thing, more liquid than creature, but moving with definitive purpose. Towards you.

“Nobody move.”

They were all still rolling or crawling about on the floor, suffering the aftereffects of spasms and cramps, but still, everyone almost completely froze at the sight of the thing, and an almost tangible chill went through the room.

“W-what is that thing?”

He was staring at it, following its every movement, so he answered Ms. Granada without looking at her.

“A piece of a gateway that seems to also be a sentient being. If you spook it, or act fearful or aggressive around it, it can kill you.”

A pressured silence followed his words, and they all watched the thing climb onto the doorframe and then just sit there for a few seconds, while everyone held their breath as you kept walking towards it. And then, out of seemingly nowhere, hundreds of others joined it, turning the entire doorway into a minor wall of moving black goo, and suddenly Marcus knew what it was about to do. He tried to get to his feet to pull you away from it, even though he knew that he was too far away to get there fast enough.

“Please, don’t…!”

But it was too late. The portal fell forwards, engulfing you into its black void, and then instantly vanished, taking you with it.

“What just happened?”

It was Dr. Pinto this time, but it didn’t matter who spoke, Marcus wouldn’t have answered anyone at that moment. He dropped back down to the floor, wondering when and how this fucking nightmare was ever gonna end.

It was over an hour later that he finally decided to speak again, despite the entire Heroics team taking turns trying to pry any piece of information out of him. They were in a conference room and he was back in his uniform, sitting calmly at the head of the table while they berated him with questions. He’d tuned them out while he tried to compile all the information that he had, to make sure that he understood everything, and that what he was about to suggest was the best course of action considering everything he still didn’t know.

“They come from a planet called Eqlo’e, but don’t ask me how to spell it.”

He’d cut into a tirade from Vox, ending in a question of whether to dunk a bucket of water over his head to see if that might get his attention, and everyone fell silent and stopped moving around restlessly as they listened. He settled deeper into his seat as he patiently began to explain about their home-world and the land-living and how the Ozsha had come to end up on Earth, continuing into the more recent events largely without being interrupted with questions. He’d gotten as far as killing the island and thus breaking the cloak before Tech became the first to break the silence of the group.

“Damn… you really were there for weeks. That cloak must’ve put the island on its own time somehow. But if six weeks for you were just one day out here, how long have the tribe really been trapped there?”

He hadn’t considered that, but it made him think back on their many conversations, looking for clues.

“Good question. I know none of them have ever seen any modern technology, not even tv:s. Radios were never mentioned. But they were all under the impression that they’d been there for fifty-two years.”

“Interesting. If the time-displacement was constant, they would’ve only been there for about a year and two months in our time, which doesn’t track with them never having seen televisions. Could your arrival have offset something in the island’s energy-signature?”

“Sure, but perhaps that’s a topic for a later discussion. What I’m trying to get to with all this, is that the aliens aren’t our enemies, and whether they broke our laws or not, they didn’t know it, and they should get to go home. They might very well be the last of their kind and they can’t survive here.”

Ms. Granada was the one to answer that.

“I don’t disagree with you, Moreno, but by your own admission they’re guilty of knowingly murdering possibly hundreds or even thousands of people.”

“Yes, but what punishment could we ever condemn them to that would be worse than what they’re already facing?”

She sighed and apparently decided to change the subject.

“Tell me about Sec. What’s happened to her?”

Now it was Marcus’ turn to sigh, because this was still a major question-mark for him too.

“That I can’t fully answer. What I know is that when we got back from Eqlo’e, we had a bit of a… personal moment… and her soul…”

He paused when extremely vivid memories of your pain flashed before his eyes and he had to take a steadying breath, which seemed to make everyone uneasy. He was usually the most level-headed of the team, under pressure, able to stay calm and work the problem no matter how bad things got, so seeing him begin to fall to pieces at a mere memory was somewhat jarring to them. But it was important to make them understand that you were special, and not just to him.

“She’s not a super, you know that. But she has this power in her soul that I can’t really explain. It’s like she reflexively reaches out and touches people with it, like a sixth sense more than an ability. That’s how she’s been able to read us all so well, and always know when danger is close. I couldn’t tell you how, but when she got really happy, the island felt her soul and managed to latch on to it somehow, and it tried to kill her by ripping it out of her, probably in retribution for her using its own spores to kill the Ozsha. Now, I’m not sure how much of her is still in there, or how long she can live like this, but I know that that damn thing somehow latched onto her. Just like I know that if it stays in her, she’ll die.”

Dr. Pinto was still present and was the first to break the eerie silence that followed his attempt at an explanation.

“Wait, are you telling us that she has a thing inside her that used to be an island, and that thing is what made us feel like our heads were exploding?”

“…Yeah. Look, I know how it sounds but the Ozsha can manipulate water, it makes sense that an evolved version of their mother could as well.”

“I don’t follow. It’s rocks and dirt and plants. How does it even think?”

“Even back on their home-world the islands were more alive than what we think of nature to be. Yes, it’s comprised of largely the same elements and materials as we’re used to, but with a much greater complexity. Even some stones there are capable of creating a sentient being when introduced to a certain substance. Stones. Coming alive. The islands didn’t just serve as a way for the merepeople to get their nutrients, they shielded and nurtured their eggs and kept predators away by releasing spores that were harmful to all creatures except Ozsha. All by way of a natural instinct, grown over eons of shared evolution. I don’t think that this island ever had a brain, the way we think of brains, I think it had a kind of hive-mind. A collective of shared information from every living thing it housed and fed, all of which would’ve evolved as it did.”

This time, it was Crush that spoke up.

“But how does that make it capable of grabbing someone’s soul and yanking it out of their bodies?”

“I don’t think it could’ve done it to anyone but Pita. Because of her unusual aura. It penetrates everything, even my shield, even my dark powers. Maybe those black rocks served as antennas, maybe it used some form of magnetism or energy-field that I couldn’t perceive, just like the cloaking. Whatever the case might be, clearly, the island feared death to the extent that it felt compelled to throw whatever life-force it had left, into her temporarily vacant body to try and save itself.”

Red Lightning was next to join the conversation.

“But then… where is her soul? If it was pushed out, where did it go?”

He couldn’t answer that, and he was terrified of the many possibilities that had crossed his mind, to the point that he didn’t even dare voice them for fear of somehow making them real. Red seemed to perceive his pain, but she still asked one more question, that made everyone noticeably uncomfortable.

“And how can we hope to find something that we’ve never even been able to prove actually exists?”

They all liked you, but realising the futility of lingering on an unanswerable question, Tech changed the subject.

“What do you mean when you say, your ‘dark powers’?”

Miracle beat him to answering that, in his typically dramatic fashion.

“Oh, they’re dark alright. And I for one, would like to know just how they could’ve changed so completely in just one day?!”

“Are you incapable of paying attention? How many times have we been over the fact that Pita and I have been there for six weeks? None of this happened over night!”

“Okay, chill! It really does seem like that to us, you know.”

Marcus drew a deep breath and then released it with the sense of another hundred tons landing on his shoulders. All he wanted was to get back to the island and try and save you, but he needed the team, and Ms. Granada, to understand why it was so important that the Ozsha came with him, and he couldn’t do that without explaining as much as he could first.

“My ability to utilise electromagnetic fields and magnetism was never my actual power, just a side-effect that I’ve mistakenly thought was my gift ever since I was a boy. When I forced that power away from myself in order to get the influence of the merepeople out of my head, my actual powers emerged. It’s an energy-field that comes out of me in threads that I can chose to weave together into a shield, or just allow one single thread to light my path.”

While he spoke, he let a few threads slip from his hands, semi-transparent and sparkling slightly with white little embers around them.

“I can let each thread envelop another person or thing, protecting them even as they move individually, although there’s a limit to how far away I can reach.”

Finding the darkness wasn’t difficult when so much fear was swimming around inside of him, and he let it trickle out into the existing threads, turning them purple before everyone’s watching eyes.

“This happened when I unintentionally combined the electromagnetism with the shield, in pure desperation to save Pita. When I get really angry or scared, the combined forces of the shield and the magnetic fields I disrupt, creates a dark energy, like a cloud except not made of moisture. That cloud can hold massive amounts of electric energy that I can use my threads to direct wherever I want it to go.”

Red cocked her head to the side, hearing that.

“I can generate my own electricity and if I happen to be in a storm, I can utilize the electric energy around me. But what you’re talking about is manipulating the planet’s own magnetic fields into gathering energy specifically where you need it. That’s practically limitless power.”

“It would be, if I was more than human. It’s still limited by how much I can take. But listen… can we please table this discussion until later, because Pita’s life is still in danger and the longer we sit here, her chances keep getting smaller.”

He turned to Granada, finding her crossing her arms as she already knew where this was heading.

“I can’t just let them go. And you haven’t even explained why you need them?”

“Because even though it’s evolved, they understand the island better than we ever could. They will know how to get it to leave Pita and go back home with them.”

“Just like that? They’ll just magically know…”

Marcus stifled a growl. He was absolutely certain that the only way to fix all this was to put you, the Ozsha and the portal together, but he had no fucking clue why.

“Please. Trust me. There was a time when you needed our trust, when you were the outsider from another world, deceiving everyone. And even after we learned that we chose to keep trusting you.”

“Because we were and are helping you. Not killing you.”

For some reason, that was the moment when his patience simply just ended.

“Gran… This is the last time I’m gonna ask. Either release them to my custody, or I’m gonna take them by force.”

“I don’t care how powerful you think you are now; you can’t take on the entire team.”

He squared his shoulders, staring at her with pure steel in his eyes.

“Watch me.”

He turned his back to her and started walking out of the room, and she immediately sent everyone after him. His ordinary bright shield was enough to keep their powers away from him, but when Crush rammed him, he was hurled through three walls and ended up in the main entrance hall. Well, at least there was plenty of room. But also, lots of people. The shield had protected him from taking any harm, but his temper flared at being held back from what he needed to do, and therefor he let the darkness gather around him until the air was so thick with it that he couldn’t even see his own hands in front of his face. But the threads told him where the walls and any obstacles were, allowing him to move unhindered through it, while the Heroics were completely blinded. He made the most of that temporary advantage, as Vox’s soundwaves were able to shift the cloud away from herself and darted towards the sub-levels and holding cells. But after he’d left the cloud behind, he rounded a corner to find Miracle, Blinding Fast and Crush waiting for him, having flown there in anticipation of which route he’d take.

“Don’t do this, Mo. You have no idea what they might do if you set them lose. If they kill someone, that’s on you.”

“I’m not gonna give them a chance to do that, Crush.”

Miracle raised his brows in exaggerated incredulity.

“No? Well, great. For god’s sake, Marcus, think this through! How are you even gonna get all twenty-two of them out there, into the middle of the ocean?”

“I don’t care how!!”

Lightning sprung from his right shoulder into the wall next to him, making it crack from floor to ceiling.

“I’ll steal a boat, or a plane or fucking swim there if I have to!”

Another bolt, this time from his hand, hit the ceiling right above the three of them, and they all took a step back, just as the rest of the team caught up behind him. But then Blinding took a few steps forwards again, fixing Marcus with a compassionate expression.

“You really do love her.”

He answered that by letting several bolts strike all around himself, creating something of a cage that none of them dared to stick their hands through, but which also broke the floor he was standing on. Only the segment that he was standing on. Seconds later, he fell through, landing right smack in the middle of the holding area, and quickly raised a shield over the hole so that no one could follow him that way. The Ozsha were in water-tanks that were locked from all sides, just big enough for them to move in, and able to be emptied quickly from several drains in the floor, which for the moment were sealed. He approached the Ixo, wasting no time.

“How long can you survive without access to water?”

The creature didn’t respond, only glared spitefully at him.

“I don’t have time for this, and neither do you. I’m trying to get you home.”

“You put us here.”

“No, I didn’t. But you have no reason to believe me, I know that, and I don’t expect you to. But what you can believe is that I will do anything to protect my woman. You’ve already seen it. I destroyed your mother for her. And now I need your help to save her, and if it works, you might get your mother back too.”

“You are a liar. You burned mother until there was nothing left.”

“There is one thing left, but it’s inside of Pita. That’s why she’s lost, because your mother invaded her body, trying to save itself, and I have no idea how to get it out.”

The lord seemed to think hard for a few beats.

“It cannot do such things.”

“It was never supposed to be able to survive here at all, but it did. By constantly evolving and adapting. I don’t know how or what it did to save itself, but I know… I know that this is what we have to do. Please, Ixo.”

The creature deliberated for an alarmingly long time, staring at Marcus the whole time, while he was nervously eyeing the corridor.

“Help… in exchange for help? This is what you said before.”

“Yes. I get you back there, you get whatever might be left of your mother and you go home.”

Another pause, and now there were people behind the door to the holding area, so he put a shield over that one too, while he waited, getting more antsy every passing second. Although, he was surprised that Crush hadn’t just barrelled through a wall to get to him already.

“No more than twenty minutes out of water, or we die.”

“Okay. Countdown starting now.”

He flipped a switch on a control panel, and all the cells began to drain of water. As soon as he could open them without flooding the floor, he unlocked them and let the aliens out. They were all taller than him and physically perhaps three times as strong as an ordinary man, but now they were fish out of water, and their strength would soon begin to fade. They all gathered in the hallway, looking to him for their next move, but he was suddenly drawing a blank.

“What do we do now, human?”

The lord was even more dependent on water than the rest, because there was so much more of him to oxygenate, so he was already noticeably affected.

“We have to wait here.”

Huh? Where did that come from? He hadn’t felt himself about to say anything at all, but once it was out, he knew it to be true.

“We cannot just stand here, others will come and lock us back up, or we will die.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen.”

“You speak as though you know this as fact.”

He was about to agree with that, when the portal appeared at the end of the corridor. All the Ozsha scurried away from it, trying to hide behind Marcus and the Ixo, clearly terrified, which was a problem because that was their route back to the island.

“There’s no reason to fear it now, it’s not gonna whisk you away to some other unknown place. It’s gonna take us back to the island, exactly where we need to go.”

“Again, you speak of knowledge you cannot possibly have. This abomination took us from our world.”

“Yes, but by accident. It never meant to split you away from your kin, nor to bring you here. It had been asked by a scientist to bring you to a place where your people could thrive, and if not for the land-living’s interference, the portal would’ve done just that.”

“We tried to approach it after, to take us back, but terrible fear gripped us before we ever got near it.”

“It felt threatened by you because of what the land-living did to it. You have to remember that this creature is still just a baby, and it was a new-born back then. Almost from the moment it was created, someone was experimenting with it, trying to control it and decide where it should go. And for an alien baby, all humanoid creatures are the same species, regardless of colour or the shape of our tails. Consider the fact that it doesn’t even have any eyes and for all we know can’t even see us, only perceive something about us, and you can’t fault it for being frightened.”

They all listened closely and seemed to grow somewhat less tense as he spoke.

“You truly do trust this being?”

“Yes, I do. And we’re out of time, so I’m gonna go through, and if you really want to go home, you should come with me. Especially since my shields are gonna disappear the moment that I do.”

He didn’t wait for them to deliberate some more, and instead just walked up to the portal, greeted it like an old friend and stepped through entirely without fear. He emerged on the other side, unsurprised to find himself back on the island, and unspeakably relieved that the first thing he saw there, was you. The portal had dropped you both back on the beach and you stood there, as if in a trance, staring out over the ocean, wearing only a hospital gown. Just seconds after he’d oriented himself, he heard splashes in the water as the goo had seen fit to drop the Ozsha into their element, although merely six feet from the dry sand, before it reappeared just a little bit to his left. He stepped away from you and once more approached the Ixo.

“You need to connect to her, with your mind.”

He gestured to you and the lord’s limited features turned sour at the mere sight of you. But to his credit, he didn’t let the anger take hold. Marcus watched as he turned every ounce of his concentration at you, and then visibly flinched, a second before all the Ozsha did the same, and then eagerly moved closer to the beach.

“Mother… you were right. It lives in her still.”

He was relieved to have it confirmed, but that was only part of the battle.

“You need to convince it to move to you instead, you have to invite it into your body.”

“I do not know how to accomplish this.”

Marcus didn’t like what he was about to say, but there was no getting around it.

“You have to put all four hands on her… gently… then just… let it know it’s welcome within you.”

“How?”

“God, I don’t know, I’m not the one with telepathy. Just try.”

The creature used his arms to crawl out of the water and right up to you, before rising up on his tail and lifting his hands towards you. Each one was about the size of a manhole cover if he spread his fingers.

“Gently… please.”

He paused to exchange a nervous glance with Marcus, before he carefully placed first the hands of his lower arms over your hips, and then the upper ones along your sides, from the shoulders down.

“Now what?”

“Just… try and find the mother in there. Her spores have fed and cared for you your entire life, you know them better than anything, so try to feel them through Pita’s skin.”

“Yes. Yes, I can feel her! What do I do?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! How could he possibly expect Marcus to know that? But then, he suddenly did know.

“With your mind, reach into Pita’s mind and say these words: atro gi’e na’eqlo’e.”

The Ixo all but threw his head back towards him, and the words that sounded in his mind were loud and accusatory.

“How do you know these words? These are Ozsha words, we do not share our language, ever!”

But Marcus had no idea how he knew them, so he just pointed at you with a defeated expression, hoping to convey just how helpless he was in all this. It seemed to work, because the lord turned his attention back to you, hopefully to say those words, and only moments later, you started trembling against his hands. It only lasted for a few seconds and then a bright green trail of spores left your body through your nose, and was absorbed into the creature’s skin, before you went limp. He had to seriously restrain himself from running to you, because you were still in the Ixo’s grip and even a light squeeze from the creature could crush you, which he might be more inclined to do now that he had no further use for you. The lord seemed almost locked in place, just staring at you, for what felt like minutes, and then he slowly let his lower arms release you, before gently placing your unmoving body in the sand. Seeing you like that, so unresponsive even now that you’d presumably been freed, made Marcus feel daggers of ice strike his heart. If you were still in there you should wake up on your own. Without knowing that he’d moved at all, he was suddenly kneeling next to you, tears already forming in his eyes, when the lord spoke to him.

“I can not feel her mind. She has given us back our mother, and for that we are grateful. But we can not save her.”

Moreno glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the portal was still there. He’d made the Ozsha a promise, and he intended to keep it.

“When you approach the portal, do it without fear, and without sinister purpose, and it will take you where you need to go. It doesn’t need explanations or reasons; it knows everything about you already. It only requires your respect in payment for its assistance.”

“You will still help? Even though I could not help you?”

“I promised you that I would. But you should hurry, my people will be here soon, and they still want you to answer for your crimes.”

“And do you not want the same?”

“The way I see it, you’ve already paid enough.”

“Thank you, human.”

He watched as the aliens left the water one by one, crawling through the portal and vanishing, the Ixo waiting until all his people were safely across before he joined them, and the portal disappeared. He was now all alone, and somehow surrounded by death, but he couldn’t absorb yours yet. Placing a hand in yours, he found you warm and soft to his touch. But then a small spark jumped from his hand to yours, and it was strong enough to sting. He reflexively pulled his hand back, and it wasn’t until several seconds later that he realized that something had changed. It was that thing of not knowing you’d had something until it was already gone, and the sudden understanding made him suck in a sharp breath. The way he’d known things just like you always did, the conviction and confidence that he was right, the patient negotiations he’d tried when Ms. Granada had worked to keep him away from the Ozsha… it was all you. That was where your soul had taken refuge when the island had stolen your body. The brief moment that he’d seen you be yourself again, back at HQ, had been your attempt to reclaim what belonged to you, but the strength of those spores must have been too much, forcing you back to him. An unwilling but desperate passenger, doing everything you could to get the pieces in place that would give the greatest chance of survival. Your hands twitched just before your eyes slowly opened, and it was you. Not muddy and soulless you, just the regular pain-in-his-ass-you, and a flood of emotions hit him as though a dam had broken inside of him.

“Fucking hell, Pita! Don’t ever do that to me again! What the… I can’t even… God dammit, I love you so much, I can’t handle all this shit! I can’t fucking breathe…”

If he’d been able to control himself in the slightest, there would’ve been less cursing and lower volume to his words, but this was raw emotion bursting out of him like a volcanic eruption. Even after the first few words he was shaking with the masses of fear that were finally leaving him, and he cried and sobbed his way through the rest of it, half-screaming in his uncontrolled state. You, on the other hand, were perfectly calm. You hadn’t actually been harmed, so you were just lying there, staring up at him, blinking a few times as you listened and took in what he was largely failing to say, before offering your own thoughts.

“You are so beautiful, Marcus. Inside and out.”

The words were so simple, spoken with deep affection and quite a lot of joy. But hearing your voice, let alone those words, tipped him over some edge he didn’t even know he was standing close to, and he felt strangely overheated, just from how much he was feeling. Seeing that seemed to tip you over some edge of your own and he saw tears form in your eyes too. Like a child seeking comfort, he laid down almost on top of you, looking for every scrap of affection you had to offer. You wrapped your arms around him and held him to you, pressing soft kisses into his hair and the sides of his head, whispering endearments and reassurances in his ears. It didn’t take long for the overload of emotions to burn itself out, and after a while you were sitting side by side, leaning against each other with his arm over your shoulders to keep you warm in your less than adequate attire. The sun was going down and with it, the temperature as well.

“Are you really okay now, cariño?”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. I know it affects you differently because of your wife.”

He let his arm tighten around your shoulders, and he sighed with a sad tinge to the sound.

“I thought that losing her was the worst thing that could ever happen. But this was worse. Because I already knew how badly it would hurt, how long it would take until it might start becoming manageable. And if I’m honest… as much as I loved her… it’s different with you. Now that I’ve discovered and surrendered to it, the way I feel is somehow so much more intense, more crippling. I don’t know if it’s because I’m older now than when I met her, and know myself better, or if it has something to do with the epic struggle it took to get us here. All I know, now that you’re not whispering in my head anymore, is that I can’t lose you without losing myself too.”

“I feel the same. And to me it’s new and terrifying.”

“Every new love feels like that.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know.”

You didn’t sound sad saying that. It was more like you just realized that it was true. It made him sad, though. For the loneliness you’d suffered without even knowing that life wasn’t supposed to feel like that. But before he could tell you that, you chuckled.

“We were back in LA today. Home. And now we’re back here.”

“Yeah. Let’s hope it’s for the last time. How much do you remember about today?”

“Not much in the way of details, but I know the broad strokes. Enough to know that Granada is gonna get an earful when I see her again.”

“She was following protocol.”

“I know, I helped to develop some of those protocols. But when she’s tried to communicate that an alien entity has taken over her body and there’s only way to get it back, from within the love of her life, then she can talk to me about fucking protocols.”

Marcus smiled widely hearing that.

“Now that you’re not in me anymore, I can feel how much of my anger and frustration that was really yours, and I gotta admit, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you take her down a notch.”

You smiled too but kept staring ahead. He let his fingers trail your jaw, beckoning you to look at him, and when you did, your eyes were so bright and expectant that what was meant to be a tender kiss, turned into a heated clash of lips and tongues.

“Hrm-hrm. You two have some explaining to do.”

You pulled apart at the sound of the familiar voice, to find Crushing standing right in front of you, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked, but quite a lot of mirth in those dark brown eyes. He was the fastest flyer so of course; he’d gotten there first. But his merriment quickly faded when his eyes stopped to stare at something behind you.

“Starting with what the hell that thing is doing?”

You both looked behind you at the same time, and found the portal standing there, which didn’t alarm either of you since you completely trusted it now. But then, without any kind of warning, it swallowed you both, and when it spat you back out a moment later, you were sitting on the floor in a house. A house he knew. It took him a second to clock it, because it was just so unexpected to suddenly be there, but a loud yelp followed by a squeal and then a projectile shooting at him across the living room table, made his mind catch up. His house. His living room. His Missy.

—————

Link to Chapter 14

Thank you for reading, and I’d love to know what you thought :) Have a wonderful day/night!

Give me a shout if you wish to be tagged on updates, and same goes for being removed from the taglist. Seriously, I’m not here to bug anyone.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @bison-writes @dornish-queen @ladyphantom96 @sarahjkl82-blog @shsoba05 @cannedsoupsucks @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @myfavpedrothings @generalfoolish

[calpalirwin]

Let The Walls Break Down

Summary: Calum gets over his skepticism

Word Count: 2.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

“It’s almost impossible. Love sucks. Don’t try it. It’s a scam.”

That had been Calum’s general thoughts on relationships since the two of you called it quits. The “almost” bit was in admittance that 1.) your relationship had been amicable from start to finish, in fact the two of you were still close with each other, and 2.) he knew love worked for some people, however he didn’t view himself as one of those some.

Being close to Calum post breakup meant you had a front row seat to the man’s brief stints at romance, which was a nice way of saying “endless stream of one night stands.” The flip side was he had a front row seat to your own count of nameless men. While in the beginning, the others in your friend group joked in hushed tones that it was an act on both your parts to stir up jealousy, the longer it went on without any animosity building up between you and Calum, the more the whispers died down until they disappeared all together. Because the simple truth was that the one night stands were just about sex. After all, you and Calum had learned together that the two of you were too busy for anything more than casual sex. A lesson both of you considered well-learned until Michael got engaged and flipped everything into a new perspective.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love,” you said after Crystal recounted all the details and you stopped squealing in excitement for her. “I mean, anyone who sees you and Michael has to believe it’s real.”

“Aw, Y/N,” Crystal blushed shyly.

You laughed, “I’m serious. You and Michael. Luke and Sierra. Ashton and Kaykay. I’m surrounded with reasons to believe love exists. The real ‘can’t imagine my life without you’ kind of love. But for me?” You waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft, nah.”

“Because you don’t believe he’s out there for you, or because you already had him and the timing was wrong?” she pressed suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. Right person, wrong time was the excuse you had given when asked when you and Calum split, because to you, it was the closest thing to the truth. “Okay…” you started slowly. “Of course I loved Cal. And I still love him now. But when we were together… We were kids who were focused on our careers. And we’re still those career-driven kids. Understanding the balance between professional life and personal life without feeling like we’re sacrificing a piece of it for another was something Cal and I will never master. We tried. I thought if I could find that balance with anyone, it would be with him. But it wasn’t. And that’s okay. I’m fulfilled in other ways.”

“But…” Crystal kept trying to press.

“But nothing,” you laughed. “I’m happy with my life the way it is, Crys. And beyond happy for you and Michael. You’re getting married!”

~~~

Across town in a celebration of their own, Calum was under similar fire. “Happy for ya, mate,” Calum said, clapping Michael on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael beamed. “I think I’m still in shock from all of it.”

“I think that’s probably a natural feeling,” Ashton told him, playing the voice of reason. “It’s an exciting change that pulls things into sharper focus.”

“Yeah, like all I wanna do now is tell Sierra how much I love her,” Luke put in.

“Oh, you fuckin’ sap,” Calum laughed.

“Just because you’ve never been in love…”

“I have too!” Calum defended.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Y/N, idiot…” Ashton told Luke with a roll of his eyes.

Luke nodded in a “Oh, yeah!” fashion, before going on, “Is she the only girl you ever loved?”

“Yep.”

“So why aren’t you still with her?”

Calum shrugged. “Timing was off. And we haven’t changed. So why would the timing have suddenly changed?” The question was rhetorical, without the slightest hint of hurt. A simple fact of life, nothing less, nothing more. A fact Calum had made peace with long before.

“So what? You’re fine with the greatest love of your life being over 2 years ago?” they questioned anyway.

He shrugged again. “Have been for a while, in case ya haven’t noticed. And no,” he raised a hand, cutting off any protest, “this isn’t a bitter, ‘oh convince me otherwise’ deal. Y/N and I are both more than happy with the lives we’re living.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I talk with her, and I trust she’s telling me the truth…”

“Alright, alright,” Ashton was willing to let the conversation rest, but he had one last question. “Is there any part of you that would want to try again with Y/N?”

A third and final shrug. “I mean, she was the only one I ever saw a future with aside from the band.”

“That has to mean something, Cal. C’mon. If there was ever a time to give love a chance, it’s now.”

~~~

While Calum’s head raced with his friends' words of encouragement, if he could call it that, yours raced with thoughts of feeling like you somehow failed in life. Sure, your career was everything you wanted it to be and more. You wouldn’t trade a single moment of your life for anything else. But now that your friends were clearly doing more than simple dating, the doubt started to trickle in. Would it be nice to share a life with someone? Absolutely. But not at the risk of your own independence. And the only person who had ever proven that you could maybe have the best of both worlds was Calum. And even that hadn’t worked. But maybe there was something to Crystal’s words about it being a case of bad timing. Maybe it was worth another try.

So that’s where you found yourself, sitting on the edge of your bed, sharing at Calum’s contact, finger hovering over the call icon, trying to figure out where and how to start again with the man. And then your phone was buzzing in your hand, and you gasped. Had you accidentally hit the call button?! No. Calum was calling you. Confused, you hit accept. “Hey, Cal. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just had a quick question for ya.”

“Well I might have a quick answer for ya.”

You heard his soft chuckle and then a brief pause as he cleared his throat, and you knew he was pushing a hand through his hair, stemming whatever nerves this “question” was creating. “You got any dinner plans for Friday?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s this new place I’ve been wanting a try, and you know how I am about eating out alone. And it’s been a minute since just the two of us hung out. So I’ll pick you up at 7?”

You gave a small laugh at the rushed excuse, wondering what he was really up to. “Sure thing, Cal.”

“Cool. Oh, and uh, dress in something nice-ish? The restaurant’s kinda uppity.”

Another small laugh. “Alright, Cal. See you Friday then.”

~~~

“It’s just dinner. It’s just Cal,” you told your reflection as you finished getting ready. “Nothing you haven’t done a million times before,” you kept trying to calm the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. While you had a pretty good idea on what this dinner really was, you didn’t want to get your hopes up that Calum was having the same change of heart that you’d been having. The man really did hate eating alone at restaurants, and if the place was as upscale as he had told you, then it made sense that he’d rather bring you along than Ashton. And he had been right about it being a good while since it was just the two of you spending time together rather than a larger group outing.

But when Calum knocked on your door rather than texting that he was in your driveway, you couldn’t stop the blush coloring your cheeks. And when you opened the door to reveal the man on the other side, dressed sharply with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand, you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh, Cal,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, taking the flowers and moving to put them in a vase of water.

“It’s how you deserve to be treated,” he said simply with a shrug as he leaned against your doorway.

“You’re too sweet to me, Hood,” you teased lightly. “Ready?”

“After you.”

When he went as far as to get the car door for you, you had to laugh. “Okay, Hood. What gives?”

“I told you. I’m treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“Nah, there’s more. I can tell. C’mon. Spill it,” you pressed when he got in the driver’s seat. “Flowers. Getting the door. Dinner at a place that requires me to dress like this. You’re up to something.”

“You look stunning, by the way,” he said, reaching over to give your thigh a squeeze.

“Calum Thomas Hood.”

He sighed. “We were good, right? Like when we were together? It’s not my memory playing tricks on me?”

“You were the best boyfriend I ever had,” you answered honestly.

He nodded. “Okay. You’re not allowed to make fun of me. But since Mike got engaged, it’s gotten to me a bit. Almost like I’m missing out on something, but it’s weird because my life is already everything I want it to be. So what could I possibly be missing out on, you know?”

“Why would I make fun of you for that?”

“Because it’s a stupid ass reason to take you on a date.”

“Oh, is that what this is? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned. “Look, I guess what I’m saying is, recent events made me reevaluate things in my life. And I think I’m in a better position than I was a few years ago to be a real partner to someone. And even when I wasn’t that person, you were the only one I could see myself becoming that person for. So… if you’re up for it, I’d really like for us to try again.”

Underneath the streetlight casting him in a soft reddish hue, he turned his head slightly to look over at you, brown eyes hopeful and solemn. When the light turned green, he turned his attention back to the road, but kept stealing glances over at you, still waiting for your response.

“I guess it’s only fair to let you know that I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “Really?”

“Really,” you said with a soft smile and a small nod of your head. “I was actually hoping this was more on the date side than the friends grabbing a bite to eat side.”

“Good, because this is definitely a date.”

“Good,” you nodded again before leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning as warmth spread across his face.

~3 Years Later~

You startled awake at a phone ringing nearby, a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets. “Mmm?” Calum rasped, voice heavy with sleep as he answered the phone, followed by a quick, “Whoa, mate, stop yelling. You did what now?” There was a small pause as whoever was on the other end of the conversation spoke in a rapid flurry that you couldn’t decipher. “You did?!” Calum clarified whatever the news was, sitting up straight in bed, your head falling from his chest to his lap.

“Ow…” you giggled, shifting to sit up against the headboard like Calum was.

“Sorry,” Calum mouthed, listening intently to whoever he was still talking to, raising a finger for you to give him a minute when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. “That’s fuckin’ great, Luke! Congrats to the both of you. Lemme know what the plans are for celebrating and give Sierra a hug from me in the meantime, yeah? Alright. Talk to ya later, mate. Bye.”

“Well?” you demanded.

“Luke and Sierra are getting married. Or he proposed anyway, and she said yes.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah, I’m really happy for them. Wow… first Mike, now Luke. We really aren’t the same kids we used to be, are we?”

“I think in some respect you guys still are. You still cling to those roots of who you used to be, the things that shaped you into the people you are now. But you guys are also growing up, too. It happens, Cal.”

“Yeah, no, I just… Wow. It’s not something I really pay much attention to, us growing up, until something like this happens.”

“The last time one of your band members got engaged, you got a case of feeling like you weren’t measuring up somehow. You’re not feeling that way now, are you?”

“No. Not at all. In fact… Luke said something when Mike told us he got engaged. That he wanted to go tell Sierra how much he loved her.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, and at the time I made fun of him for it. But… I dunno… I get it. This type of shit really shifts things into perspective.”

“I mean, yeah. Last time it resulted in both of us thinking we should try being an ‘us’ again. What’s the perspective shifting to this time? You’re not gonna go out, and buy a ring, are you?”

“No, I already have one in my sock drawer.”

You choked. “What?”

He climbed out of bed with a laugh, making his way to the dresser and rummaging around in one of the top drawers. Then, something small was soaring through the air as he tossed whatever it was onto the bed towards you. “Told ya,” he said simply, as you grabbed the small box, popping the lid to find a ring inside.

“How long have you had this?” you asked, your voice a small whisper.

“Uh… 2016 I think,” he said as he rejoined you in bed.

“So, since the first time we dated?”

“Yep.”

“Calum!”

“What?” he laughed. “I told you our entire relationship, both then and now, that you’re the only person I see a future with. Did you think I was lying?”

“No! I- I just didn’t know you went so far as to get a ring, and keep it for 5 bloody years.”

“Well, it would have been a little weird if you had it all these years, considering… ya know.”

You laughed in a mix of disbelief and shock. “You are absolutely crazy.”

“I’m not actually proposing, you know that, yeah? I mean, yes, the ring is yours. But only if you want it to be. I love the life we have together, more so than I thought I could love any other version of my life. I never feel like I’m stuck in place, or missing something when I’m with you. I’ll be just as happy if you never wear that ring, as I would if you wore it every day for the rest of your life. You, me, Duke, and music is all I’m ever gonna need in life. I’ve known it since the first time I said I love you. Even in those years we thought chasing our careers was more important, you were still the only person I’ve ever been in love with.”

“Calum…” you breathed, your lip trembling.

“Shh, if you want the whole deal of the proposal and the picture perfect wedding, I’ll give that to you gladly. That’s what the ring’s for. But if you’re content with what we have now, this will always be enough for me, and that’s a promise.”

“I don’t want a proposal only because Luke and Sierra made you extra sentimental. I don’t want to take their moment away from them either.”

“That ring has been yours far longer than any extra sentiment our friends getting engaged could stir up, but I get what you’re saying. If/when you want it, say the word.”

“Ask me again in a year,” you decided. “And I mean really ask me. The whole deal.”

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” he murmured as his lips crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face. “I’m so in love with you. Always have been. Always will be.”

__

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[nightingaelic]

Companions react to a courier who, like the mandolorian never takes their helmet off, to the point where the only people who have seen their face are doc mitchel, Benny, and the khans with him

Big fan of my boy Mando, let's go

It had been a few days and nights now, and the nameless courier had kept the repurposed Desert Ranger combat helmet on throughout. Its low-light optic lenses glowed as red as the bighorner chips that fed the fire between the two. They shifted at their companion's obvious curiosity, uncomfortable in their own answer. "No one. Not since that chiseler from The Tops and his pack of ten-cent Khans left a bullet in my head, and then Doc Mitchell when he did his best to fish it out. Victor too, I guess, but I'm not sure he counts. Before that... I don't remember."

Arcade Gannon: "Yeah, sometimes I feel like doing that, too," Arcade admitted, tossing the reed of dry grass he'd been fiddling with into the fire. "I mean, not to that degree, but there have been days. Mostly the ones where Julie's mad that I'm blowing my deadlines or using up the supplies, and the Kings are stirring up trouble with the NCR so the fort's crowded, and... I don't need to be telling you this."

"Nope," the courier agreed. "But you seem like you want to."

"I've... just been stressed, lately." Arcade sighed. "But who hasn't been? Hell, if anyone should get to complain about being stressed out, it's you. But the helmet? Doesn't bother me."

Craig Boone: "Mmm." Boone tugged at his sunglasses, perhaps a little self-consciously. "There's something to be said about remaining unseen."

The courier nodded, unsure where to take the discussion next. Boone didn't give them any kind of direction, seeing as he wasn't looking for a heart-to-heart. Still, he relaxed his shoulders and started to take apart his gun to clean it, signaling his own ease with the situation. Eventually, the courier relaxed too.

Later, while running a check of the perimeter, Boone caught the courier unlatching their helmet's strap in the distance through his scope. He bit his lip, squashed the curious feeling down as hard as he could, and looked away.

Lily Bowen: "I understand, pumpkin." Lily tore into the coyote leg she had been roasting and chewed thoughtfully. "Sometimes nightkin don't want to be seen, either. It makes them feel... strange. Like Keene. But Keene is always causing trouble."

She shook her head. "Maybe Keene would settle down if he wore a helmet and forgot about Stealth Boys. Then Doctor Henry could do his work in peace. I'm sure he appreciates everything you've done so far. Grandma is proud of you."

The courier nodded, and though Lily couldn't tell through the helmet's faceplate, the relaxed angle of their shoulders made her pretty sure they were smiling.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Is it a religious thing?" Raul put his chin in his hand and looked the courier over, analyzing them. "Used to be somewhat of a practice pre-war, but groups like that now are few and far between. There used to be a convent outside Mexico City that Rafaela and I would trade at for purified water, and las hermanas kept their heads covered. Don't know what happened to them."

"Eh, not exactly." The courier bobbed their head noncommittally. "It's just a 'me' thing. I think. Like I said, I don't really know, but something in me... knows. Comprende?"

"Maybe. Nah, not really." Raul smiled. "But, long as you can see well enough to shoot through that skid lid, I've got no problem with it."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Hm." Cass twisted her mouth up in sympathy, but she still didn't quite understand. "I don't know. Mom always said not to trust a thing that doesn't show its face to the world outright. Comes in handy around these parts, when you've got securitrons running the place and the guy on the radio is someone that's never been seen. But you and me... I'd like to think we understand each other enough to get past all that."

"Does it bother you?" the courier asked, clearly tense.

"Pssh." Cass waved them off. "You ain't shot me in the back yet. Figured you'd've done it by now if you were going to, and that's good enough for me. I'm used to running in circles that are short on trust, anyhow."

Veronica Santangelo: "Well, I guess it's not a whole lot different from when the Knights and Paladins are out and about in the wasteland," Veronica admitted. "They never want to get out of their power armor until they're absolutely sure there isn't a sniper over the hill, waiting for the opportunity to make an omelet of brains and .308s."

The Scribe caught her faux pas immediately and cringed. "Oh. Sorry. Um, probably shouldn't be bringing up bullets, and... brains... I should, um, I should stop talking now. Yep. Good job, me."

The courier's shoulders started shaking, and for one horrible instant, Veronica was positive that she'd made them cry. When they threw their head back and laughed, deeply and sincerely, her own giggles started primarily from a place of relief, but quickly grew into earnest wheezing at her own conversational clumsiness.

ED-E: ED-E let out a few sympathetic beeps. Having taken some bullets to the dome itself, the eyebot could relate to the experience. It floated around the courier's head, searching for any signs of remaining damage. There wasn't so much as a crack in the combat helmet, though the optic lenses followed its trajectory. Satisfied, the robot blipped and came to a stop, bobbing gently up and down at the courier's side. They stared into the fire together, silent once again, and ED-E privately speculated that something more abstract than the courier's circuitry had been exposed during their encounter with the man in the checkered suit.

Rex: The cyberdog panted and cocked his head to the side, studying the courier. Though he'd been wary of this person upon first meeting, now he barely associated the helmet with other head coverings. It was part of them, the same way his metal legs and brain dome were part of him. Besides, there were other, better ways for a dog to know a person: The shape of their coat as it billowed in the desert wind, the scent of their fear when they sighted a band of Vipers approaching in the distance, and the feel of their hand caressing the ruff of his neck as he bedded down for the night at their feet.

[annyeongffs]

𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠 ༄ 𝑗.𝑠𝑏 (𝗺)

𝗑𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀: 𝗉𝗐𝗉, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉.

𝗑𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗎𝖻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 + 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍(𝗂𝗌𝗁)𝖽𝗈𝗆! 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗇

𝗑𝘄𝗰: 7.2𝗸

𝗑𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿: 𝖽𝗈𝗆/𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗃𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒/𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝖻4 𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉!!), 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽/𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆 "𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅" 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝗑𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁.

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You were sitting on the couch with your latest novel in hand, legs crossed politely beneath your skirt, when you heard the front door open, signaling that your boyfriend is back from his all-day lecture.

You drop the book instantly and spring up from your seat to go greet Subin. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, letting his heavy bag slide off of his shoulder. You giggle when his nose nudges against your cheek, a soft whisper of “hi, Subin” leaving your lips once he presses a second kiss to your temple.

“Hi yourself, princess,” He says with a grin, “were you waiting for me?” You can’t help the pink flush that rises to your cheeks as you nod yes, his mere presence being enough to make your heart flutter. Subin swears you’re the cutest thing to ever grace the planet.

“I missed you today,” You admit with a tiny pout. You’d gone out to lunch with your best friend and her boyfriend Hanse, who also happened to be friends with Subin; but you’d felt like a third wheel without your own boyfriend at your side, even despite their best attempts to include you.

“I missed you too.” He tells you, at which you forcefully shake your head and insist, “but I missed you more.” You seal your statement by leaving your own kiss along his jaw, not being quite tall enough to reach his cheek.

Subin’s heart soars at how utterly adorable you are. “You’re too cute for your own good, baby. You’re gonna kill me one day if you keep this up.” He observes casually. You curl your fingers in the material of his shirt with a whine that you have no intention of killing him, your eyes lingering on how the fabric pulls tightly against his biceps.

Has he always been so muscular? You wonder to yourself, slowly slipping into your head. Maybe he’s been working out more... how come you’ve never noticed this before just now?

He doesn’t miss your distracted gaze, and he feels a smirk spreading when he puts two and two together to realize that maybe your blush isn’t quite as random as it seems. He doesn’t stop the smirk from growing when your small fingers begin to cautiously trace over where his sleeves end.

“You look pretty today.”  He comments like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Which it is for him- hardly a day goes by without his mention of how beautiful you are- but even after all these months, it’s still new to you. Your stare drops to the floor as you take a sudden interest in your shoes.

“Thank you, Binnie.” You say quietly. You fidget with the hem of your (ahem, Subin’s) white sweater, and the image of you standing there in your little pink skirt and his oversized sweater is almost too much for him to handle. 

You’ve been testing him so much lately, the length of your skirts shrinking while the collection of his shirts that you wear to bed has only been growing, and it’s gonna be the thing to end him. All it takes is one glance at your innocent smile and Subin knows he’s a goner; he’s never wanted to ruin anyone so badly in his life. 

 He steps into your personal space and tilts your head up with his fingers to make you return his gaze, the dark, nameless emotion swirling in his eyes jarring you. His touch is like an electric current, the simple gesture sending a trail of sparks zipping down your spine as you inhale sharply. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you hungrily, longingly. You wanna touch him too- maybe weave your fingers through his hair or something- but before you get the chance, he brings your mouth to his harshly and gives you a kiss you never knew you needed.

He’s normally so gentle with you, his kisses soft and slow as if he’s afraid you’re made of glass. But this kiss is different for reasons you can’t explain. It’s bruising and fast and delicious, stirring up a sort of tension that you find to be entirely exhilarating. You do your best to keep up with the pace he’s set, holding back a yelp of surprise when you feel his tongue swipe teasingly across your lower lip.

You must do a pretty good job of staying with the speed of the sudden kiss, because when you eventually break apart, you aren’t the only one panting for breath. Your lips are tingling with the foreign buzz from so much pressure at once but it’s a buzz you don’t really mind. As a matter of fact, the whole room seems to be buzzing, the air alive with the rising tension as Subin’s grip tightens around your chin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that you’ve got something on your mind today. Am I right, y/n?” He asks cockily while raising one eyebrow. 

He knows exactly what’s up, having seen the gleam in your eyes that hasn’t shown itself before and knowing for certain what it means. But if your widening eyes and confused expression are enough to go off of, then it’s safe to say that you don’t have a clue what’s happening.

 All you know is that there’s something new bubbling in the pit of your stomach, some strange and unsettling weight building in your lower half that you haven’t ever been exposed to before. It isn’t unpleasant, per say; just new. The feeling reminds you of when you put a pot of water on the stove to boil- except rather than boiling, your body is merely simmering.

But it’s still more than enough to make you want to kiss Subin like that again.

Your blush returns with full force when you stutter out, “Well... th-there is one thing I’m, umm, thinking about...” You trail off, resisting the urge to hide your face in his chest. Subin stays put with his hand under your jaw and waits for you to tell him what you want like the good girl he knows you are.

“Can we do that again?” Comes your quiet plea, giving his shirt a slight tug to punctuate your request. “Please?” And who the hell would he be to refuse?

He brings you close again until your lips are brushing together, barely a millimeter away, and mumbles hotly, “Oh, baby, I can do so much more than that. Just you wait.” And then his mouth is back on yours, engulfing you in a heated kiss unlike any you’ve ever shared.

You let out a small sigh of content as he kisses you passionately, your body pressing against his to try to get as close as you can. Your arms wrap themselves around his broad shoulders and he takes the chance to deepen the kiss, tongue coming back out to tease you. You’ve never kissed him like this before and you don’t quite know what to do; you settle for just granting him access and allowing him to do as he pleases, ultimately pleasing you when he slides his other hand up and down the curve of your back, warm fingers dancing over your bare skin beneath the sweater and drawing out another little sigh from you.

“Jump,” He mumbles against your mouth. You pull back slightly in question, not sure you understand what he’s asking. His lips chase yours but you don’t respond immediately, continuing to stare at him with your head cocked to the side.

“I said jump, y/n. I know you can listen to me.” He says in a tone that, while soft, leaves no room for debate. You obey quickly and allow him to catch you as you wrap your legs around him, unable to contain your squeal when his hands firmly hook beneath your body, and your eyes are shut so tightly in your state of bliss that you hardly even register when Subin walks from the entryway into your bedroom, pausing only to lower you onto the bed.

He caresses your face in a sudden move of tenderness, looking straight into your heavy-lidded eyes to make sure he hasn’t hurt you. While he might be acting a little rougher than usual, the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you, his precious angel. 

His angel who was currently staring back at him with a blush so innocent it poked a dark side of his dominance, a side he always tries so hard to hide around you in fears of scaring you off. But the way you’re responding to his kisses tonight is telling him a different story- one that might let him take you to another chapter, if you’ll let him.

Subin’s thumb skims over your cheek as he keeps his arms braced on either side of you to hover over your little body. “Angel, if you want me to stop, say it now.” He says, his words hoarse with self restraint. He’s come close to losing his cool a few times before, but you’ve never tested him quite like this; and if he’s gonna be able to stop himself before he releases his grip on the dirty beast inside of him- the beast you bring to life with your sweet innocence- then he needs you to stop it now.

You blink twice and stare up at him with those doe eyes, mouth opening but finding you have nothing to say. He scans the way the sweater has started slipping off of your shoulders and inhales deeply before asking again, “I’m serious, y/n. If we’re gonna stop then you have to tell me right now or else I can’t promise to stay away from you.”

His gruff words flip a switch in you without warning. You’ve never gone any further than slow makeouts with Subin, the most risque thing you’ve done so far being the time you sat on his lap while kissing. But tonight, you discover that you want to push that boundary, even though you don’t know much of what’s beyond it.

All you really know is that you like the way these kisses feel. You like the bold way Subin’s hands dance around your shoulders, the new fire he’s started in your tummy.

You like not knowing what comes next.

“I... I don’t want you to stop, Binnie.” You answer in a whisper. Subin groans in response, the sentence making him harden instantly. He moves his hand slowly over the expanse of your neck, nails tracing the lines of your collarbone, and that beast inside of him is tugging at its chains when you inhale loudly and latch onto his wrist. 

He rubs small circles into the skin at the base of your neck, admiring how easily it causes you to sigh. You don’t know what it is about them that always fascinate you. They’re just hands; but something about the powerful way his hand lingers on your skin makes you think you wanna feel it holding onto your neck.

“You have a thing for my hands, baby?” He teases with a smirk, “I can do whatever you want with them, put them wherever you want.” He uses his other hand to brush your hair out of your face so he can clearly see the lust building. “But you have to ask first.”

Your tiny surprised gasp turns into a breathy whimper when his fingers curl around your neck exactly how you hoped they would, the pressure delightful and salacious without cutting off your airflow. 

Subin grins even wider. “You like that.” It’s not a question, it’s a factual statement. You nod anyways, your weak hands not trying at all to pull him off of you. “You look so pretty like this, angel. Wearing my hand like it’s a necklace.” He muses out loud. His cocky tone sends a warm feeling rushing through your abdomen, making your eyes flutter shut momentarily as you bask in how perfect his hold on you is. You never thought having his hand around your throat would be so incredible, would feel so right.

Upon seeing your eyes closing, he leans down closer to your ear, fully intending to make you even more bothered without lifting his hand from your throat.

“You like it when I talk dirty too, hmm?” He adds. “I’m not surprised. Good girls like you probably love hearing what you make people wanna do to you.” And you lose all power to resist your boyfriend’s arousing charm when he calls you that, calls you a good girl. You decide you always wanna be good for him if you’re rewarded in ways like this.

“Binnie, I-” You start timidly, but one quick squeeze to your neck has you stopping before you ask him to call you that again. “No baby, use my whole name. I wanna hear you moaning my name when I give you the pleasure you deserve tonight.” Another hot feeling begins to pool in places you’ve never felt heat pooling in before, arousal flooding you at his suggestiveness.

And because you want to stay well-behaved for him, to see how far being good will get you, you bite your swollen lip and nod your head. “Subin, can you say it again?” You beg shyly, cheeks reddening. Subin observes the way you’ve begun to breathe a little heavier and considers how obedient you’re being so far.

“Say what?”

You gulp down your embarrassment. “G-Good girl. Call me that again, please.” You sound desperate even to your own ears, but it’s a sound that beckons his dominant side into coming out to play. He’s waited far too long to ruin his innocent little angel to hold himself back.

His head drops to litter kisses around the skin not covered by his hand, seeking out the one spot that makes you whine the loudest. He finds it and nips lightly, soothing the unexpected yet not unwelcome sting over with his tongue. Your sighs grow more and more frequent as he sucks multiple hickies along your collarbone, thighs rubbing together when he licks a tantalizingly slow, seductive stripe along the entire outline of it.

He reluctantly drops his grip to replace it with his mouth, feverishly marking up your neck while he busies himself with sliding the sweater another inch off your shoulders to give him more room. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?” He murmurs into your skin, “Already so needy for me when we’ve barely even started. My good girl, all wet and eager. I’ll give you what you want, baby, I’ll give you whatever you want if you tell me to. Use your words for me.” 

It’s these words, hurried and half-muffled by the way his mouth presses against you, that begin to unravel the strings laced up inside your core. You can feel yourself falling apart, succumbing to Subin’s obvious control, letting your desire to feel everything he promises to make you feel cloud out any doubt in your mind. You wanted Jung Subin, and even if it killed you to ask for it, you wanted him now.

The only problem is that you don’t know what to ask for.

“I want you, Subin.” You inform him with a slight wobble in your voice, “I want to feel more... please.” You add the please at the end in hopes that it might cause him to suck a little harder at your neck, but your pleading instead makes him pull off of you and gaze down at the mess he’s made of his beautiful girlfriend. 

“You want more?” He prompts you, “What do you mean by more? You wanna be choked some more? Is that it, angel?” As appealing as that is, you shake your head meekly, wiggling noticeably underneath him.

“I wanna feel you.” You say with crimson stained cheeks.

Subin takes his hand and lightly caresses your hickey-covered jaw, unable to resist the temptation to slip two fingers into your wet mouth. You suck on them the moment his fingers are there, unsure of what possibly made you do it but liking the results nonetheless, especially when he curses under his breath at how fucking hot you look in this position. You swirl your tongue around them experimentally and it sends him into another world, making him remove his fingers hastily before he envisions how well you’d suck his dick. 

You whine at the loss of contact and Subin chuckles darkly, not wiping off his fingers. “Where do you wanna feel me?” He asks you in a sultry voice. His hand slides beneath the sweater easily and finds its way to your chest, where he runs his large palms over the white lace bra you wore under it. “Did you want to feel me here?” He continues. You’re too flustered to speak when he playfully snaps at your bra strap before moving down lower. 

Your breath hitches audibly when Subin ghosts over your stomach, descending even lower, hand cupping cautiously around the place where you needed him the most. “Or maybe... you wanna feel me here.” He remarks, “Is this where you want me, princess? Want me playing between your pretty thighs, tasting what no one has ever touched before?” His dirty comments are sending stars into your vision.

He’s relentless in his teasing, fingers edging around your innocent white panties under the cute skirt he can’t wait to push up later. “Want to see my head between your legs as I eat you out, make you sigh and whine until you can’t stand it anymore? Wanna fuck yourself senseless on my tongue? Do you want that, y/n?” You can't control the moan that leaves you at his words, hips unintentionally rising off of the bed to push yourself against his body. He hisses at your actions and lifts the band to your underwear, the cool air hitting your core making you whine. The sensation of his finger tracing your pussy gently is unlike anything else on the planet.

“Yes,” You call desperately when he softly rubs against you, the friction giving you only the tiniest bit of respite from the overwhelming heat spreading through you, “Subin, please.”

“Please what? Be a good girl and tell me, baby. I told you to use your words.” He instructs as he teases your core with his hand.

You can’t take it anymore. “Please give me m-more,” You gasp out despite your horrible embarrassment, “Make m-me feel all the things you just said you would. I-I wanna feel you... between my legs.” You stutter furiously, but it’s all Subin needs to push his finger into your pussy, groaning at the same time you let out a rather shaky sigh.

“Fuck, princess,” He curses when he feels how warm and tight you are. “You’re absolutely fucking perfect, you know? You take my fingers so well, you dirty girl. You’re behaving so good for me tonight.” He praises you as he moves his fingers in a steady rhythm, trying to go slow so he won’t hurt you even though every bone in his body is screaming to fuck you into next week with his hands alone.

 But all efforts of slow are abandoned the second you latch onto his neck and begin sucking, attempting to make him feel half as good as you do right now as you press little kisses to his skin. Subin’s pace quickens while you pepper open-mouthed lovebites on his throat, your small wrist tugging at his shirt to signal that you want it off. You don’t know what’s gotten into you- you have a nearly carnal desire to run your hands along as much of his skin as you can, to rake your nails down the abs you’ve only seen once or twice at the beach. 

He gets the hint and strips the shirt off of himself without removing his fingers from your pussy, tossing the garment somewhere before leaning back down to loom over your writhing figure. Your hands explore his naked chest with an enthusiasm that you didn’t know you possessed, appreciating his warm skin with little kisses and scratches as he continues to pleasure you at an increasing rate.

“Fucking hell, y/n,” He says with his brows furrowed, “how long have you been so desperate for my touch? How long have you felt this needy, this wet?” He coos mockingly, speeding up as your back begins to arch slightly, pushing you even further into him. “Your body is practically begging to get fucked, baby. Look at you, whining so prettily for me while your pussy tries to suck my fingers in. You like fucking yourself against my hands?”

A loud cry escapes your lips at his downright nasty words. They’re obscene and crude and filthy; and you love it.

“M-Mouth,” You sigh pathetically as you grip his broad shoulders for dear life. “I wanna feel y-your mouth, Subin, wanna feel your mouth down- down there.”

And because you asked so nicely, Subin smirks and slides his slick-covered fingers out of you, making you flush shyly when he raises them to his lips and tastes your essence. He pins you to the bed with just his heated stare, head spinning at how much he’s gonna taint you tonight.

“You might wanna hold onto the sheets, princess,” He warns as he sinks to kneel in front of your needy core, “because I don’t know if I can be gentle after tasting how fucking sweet you are for me.” You moan again at the firm kiss he places on your inner thigh. He’s so close to where you want to feel him; so close to bringing you to a high you’ve never even dared to dream of before.

He doesn’t dive in until he’s positive you want him to. Your little sighs of content turn into cries of his name the second his tongue is flicking at your core, sucking skillfully while his fingers return to the scene to slowly drag along your walls. You find yourself heeding his warning and bunching up the sheets in your fists to keep yourself from screaming out at how utterly good his tongue feels against your folds.

“Subin, fuck,” You sigh weakly, unable to handle the image of his head between your thighs, “I-It feels so good, Subin, so good.” 

“Yeah?” He replies, and the vibrations against your sensitive pussy almost send you careening over the edge, hurtling into the clouds of complete ecstasy. But before you get the chance, Subin once more removes his fingers, causing you to whine for him. You were almost there, almost ready to have your very first orgasm.

“Why did you stop-” Your words are cut off when he resumes fucking you with his mouth, turning your protests into mewls of how good everything feels.

“You’re gonna come on my tongue, y/n” He demands, his dominant tone making you meet his eyes, “You’re gonna fall apart in my mouth and I better hear you saying my name as you do. Got it angel?” He leaves no room for argument, and as soon as you nod your head yes, he’s back to eating you out like a champ, head moving to reach every little spot that drives you wild.

You’re within seconds of falling apart as he guides you to your high with his tongue- but the single thing that pushes you over the edge is his hot whispered praise of “good girl.”

You come undone with a cry louder than any of your previous noises, mouth repeating his name like it’s the only word you know as your vision momentarily blanks. You’re on top of the fucking world- your head is spinning like a top but you swear you’ve never felt so good before in your entire life, never felt like you’re both falling and flying at the same time. Subin’s tongue guides you through your high, cock fully hard at your lust filled moans of his name as you ride out on cloud nine.

He only detaches his mouth when you squirm away form him, panting and breathlessly relaxing your hold on the sheets.

Your blush is practically painted on your face at this point, fully aware of the way your panties are still shoved to the side and the skin still exposed by your skirt. You pull Subin back from his place between your legs and press soft kisses to his bare chest to wordlessly express your thanks.

Subin, meanwhile, is fighting hard to keep you from noticing his raging hard-on. His only focus tonight was you: your pleasure and your cries and your orgasm, his only goal being to bring you the feelings your sweet innocent mind hadn’t dreamt of before.

But now that he’s had a glimpse of how perfectly good you are for him in bed, he can’t help but wonder how good you’d feel under him, how well you’d take his cock as you sigh out his name. He can’t rid himself of the mental image no matter how hard he tries to, grounding himself in the sweet kisses you’re spreading on his chest. He’s got to snap out of this; he has to keep being gentle-

“Subin,” You mumble into his skin, “Did that- did you feel good, too?” As amazing as he made you feel, you want to know that he’s satisfied too, to know if he enjoyed it as much as you did. It wouldn’t seem fair to you if he did all the work with nothing in it for himself.

Subin gulps, nervous for the first time tonight. “Yes, princess. I loved every second of it. You were so good for me.” He praises you, and you can’t believe how easily his praise stirs up another fire inside you, making you feel like you’re ready for even more.

“I can keep being good for you,” You tell him in a modest whisper. “I can keep being your... your good girl.” You offer, the new part of you he’s unlocked making you bold enough to suggest that maybe, just maybe, you wanna go further with him tonight.

Subin opens his mouth to protest and tell you that you don’t need to do that, that you’ve done more than enough for one night. He even tries to persuade you to put on some pajamas and get ready for sleep; but you aren’t having it.

You cut off his rambling with a kiss so wanton that he can hardly believe you had the guts to do it, but he’s far from complaining as he hungrily accepts everything you have to give him, feeling how eager you are to please him.

His precious girl, so needy and obedient, wanting to please him like he’s just pleased you. Sadly for Subin, that’s a thought for another time, because he knows he won’t last long at all if he starts fantasizing about your mouth on his cock. Instead he settles for another fantasy, the one that brings you both pleasure.

He’s discovered tonight that you seriously get off on hearing his thoughts, hearing about the dirty things you plant in his head, and now is as good a time as ever to talk you through one more.

But he has to make sure you want it first. He’s already taken you so far- he won’t let it go any further until he’s absolutely positive that you won’t regret giving him more.

He ends the kiss and stares straight into your eyes, the gesture so meaningful and loving that your heart melts a little bit. He’s always taking care of you, always putting you first. You wish he’d let you put him first for once- but the warmth lingering in your core says maybe you’ll still get the chance to.

“Y/n, you know you can always stop.” Subin says seriously. “You don’t need to do anything else if you don’t wanna. Please don’t push yourself into doing something if you aren’t ready for it.” He kisses your cheeks, your nose, and lightly pecks your lips. “I would never want you to go too far to please me, baby. I’m always satisfied just to be in your heart, and I... I don’t need to be anywhere else, angel. I promise.”

His confession is laced with so much love that it brings tears to your eyes. His words are sincere, the proof in his statement made obvious by the adoring gaze he wears. You’ve never felt so safe- never felt so wanted, so secure. You don’t think you can love anyone else the way you love Subin.

And it’s this display of love, this moment of sweet vulnerability, that makes you more sure of yourself than ever before. You’re ready for what comes next- you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanna give him your all. You wanna give him every little piece of you, body and heart.

“I love you so much, Binnie.” You say with a smile. He’s so whipped for you that he doesn’t bother to comment on the nickname.

“I love you, and... I know I’m ready. I don’t want to stop tonight, please. I want you to make me yours.” You add.

Subin abandons any reservations about going further the moment the words are out of your mouth, seeing clearly the trust and desire that shines in your eyes. He nods and gently lays you back down, sensing zero fear from you as he slides the sweater off of your body.

He can’t believe how lucky he is. “You’re gorgeous, y/n, fucking gorgeous,” He worships with an awestruck look on his face, wiping away all of your insecurities, “every inch of you is perfect baby.”

And with that, he slides off your skirt, leaving only a thin layer of clothing between your skin and his.

Your hands itch to grab for his belt, but as you begin to reach out, Subin tsks and lightly swats your hands away. “Let me do that y/n. Just relax for me, yeah? Lay there and keep on looking like a fucking angel, that shouldn’t be a problem for you.” He says in a lower voice- you whine when you realize he’s back to being bedroom Subin.

He removes everything in one swift motion, and you fail to hold back the loud gasp at how hard he is. You’ve never really seen a dick before, never wondered about it or thought about it, but seeing Subin’s cock standing decidedly at attention makes you wish you knew more. You can’t stop staring at how intimidating it looks- does it hurt him that it’s so obviously hard? Will you be able to feel the veiny ridges along it as it drags against your walls? Or for that matter... will you even know what to do with yourself when it’s inside you?

Subin hums at your innocent surprise, memorizing the way your head tilts to the side while you study his cock. He comes back into your personal space to run his hands along your sides, giving you no warning before he tugs your panties off and rubs you without any barriers. You whine again, back arching off of the pillows to push your bodies together.

His body pins you against the bed, keeping you right where he wants you- but you have other ideas. Ideas that involve straddling his lap and seeing what would happen if he fucked up into you after you’ve been lying down for so long.

You look up at him with the prettiest pout you can muster. “I wanna... wanna get on top. C-can I please get on top, Subin? Please?” You beg him with stars in your eyes. Subin is so fucking whipped for your dirty request that he allows it, marveling in what a good girl his y/n is. He leads you into another brutal kiss, and you feel the knot reforming itself in your stomach when you break away with a strand of saliva still tethering your lips together. It’d be nothing short of nasty if it wasn’t with him.

“Climb aboard, baby.” He beckons you, and you blush at the mere thought of sinking yourself down on him.

He moves so you’re straddling his lap with his back against the headboard, bare pussy still slick from your orgasm. You grind down on his thigh when his hand makes its way into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fist and tugging just ever-so-slightly, enough to give you a taste of the stinging sensation on your scalp. You gasp, not expecting to like the feeling as much as you do, and it provokes Subin to tug a little harder, eventually drawing out a moan.

“You gonna ride me, princess, or do wanna keep fucking my thigh?” He coaxes. Your blush deepens but you stop rubbing against his leg anyways, not totally coherent when you moan out that yes, you’re gonna ride him.

“I’ll be gentle.” He murmurs suddenly, cupping your face with one hand so he can tenderly gaze at you. You nod and hover over him, bracing yourself for the initial pain you’ve heard every girl has on their first time, and Subin frowns at how your nose scrunches up unhappily.

“Baby, don’t think too hard.” He persuades you to loosen up, knowing you’ll hurt more if you’re tense. “I’ll talk you through every step of the way if you want. You gotta relax for me though, okay? You’ll feel better if you let yourself go. I’m right here, love.” His reassurance is the final push you needed to unclench your muscles, mind going completely empty as you slowly, slowly begin to lower yourself onto him.

And oh fuck did it burn.

You cry out at the uncomfortable sensation, feeling your core stretch to accommodate his length. Subin doesn’t dare move a millimeter, allowing you to have control of your pace since he knows your little body has never done this before, never had to adjust to this. You pause your movement to let yourself get used to the burn for a second when he’s halfway inside, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you hang on for dear life.

“It stings, Subin.” You whine, “Is- is it supposed to sting?”

He shushes you affectionately, kissing your temple. “Shh, angel, I know it hurts. It’ll go away real soon. I promise it will.” He consoles in a soft voice. You nod and continue to sink down, biting your lip to keep from complaining again when he’s fully entered you, the intense burn making you think something’s just snapped inside of you. 

Subin stays totally still as you stop again to adjust to the stretch. He oh so desperately wants to buck up into you, wants to drive himself into your pussy that he swears must’ve been made for him; but he restrains himself because he doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to bring you any kind of pain. So he waits patiently until you start moving.

You move your hips experimentally, whining sharply at the burn but finding that the more you do so, the less it stings. Subin groans lowly when you find a steady, slow pace, lifting yourself up and down- and all at once, the stinging turns into pleasure, an earth-shattering sensation that sets every nerve ending on fire with a delicious heat.

The pain dissipates entirely. Subin sees the change in your expression, your furrowed brows raising and your mouth opening as you let out an airy sigh that carries no hint of discomfort. Your walls suck him in like a wet vice, warm and tight and such a perfect fit that he thinks he could be in danger of cumming first, solely because of how amazing you feel.

“S-Subin,” You call out his name in a breathless moan. “Fuck, Binnie, I feel so- so good.” You sigh again in sheer bliss, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your head.

“How good, y/n?” He asks, making your moans increase rapidly in volume when he begins to meet your hips with slow thrusts of his own. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

You babble incoherently as you attempt to describe the otherworldly pleasure that shoots through every inch of your body like a forest fire. “So good, Subin, so full, so much...” You can’t finish your sentence as a particularly deep thrust causes you to cry out once more. “Oh my god, Subin!” 

A self-satisfied smirk rests on his lips when he hears you gasping for breath, unable to keep yourself together as he fucks into you at a quicker pace. “That’s it, y/n. I’m gonna give you the best fucking night of your life tonight. You’ve been such a good girl for me, so obedient. Good girls deserve to come, yeah?” 

His question is rhetorical but you answer anyways, a strangled yes escaping you when he brings his hand back up to loosely grip your throat. The knot is pulling tighter and tighter inside of you, feeling like a rubber band being stretched out and it’s only a matter of minutes before you break.

Subin could come right then and there when he sees your fucked-out expression as he takes you with his hand on your neck, a steady mantra of his name leaving your mouth over and over. But he’s determined to make you come first- good thing he knows your weaknesses.

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it,” He begins to talk dirty to you once again and prides himself on the way your pussy clenches around him, “I can feel how close you are to losing it, to cumming on my cock. You think you can do that for me, y/n? Will you fall apart on my cock like my good little princess?”

You nod frantically as you chase the high that waits for you, the high Subin is providing with his nasty mouth and his heavenly thrusts. Your hips bounce in an irregular pace as you feel it approaching, a wave of pleasure about to crash over you, about to send you into a state of euphoria.

“Please, Subin, please,” You plead as his hold tightens on your throat, “I- I wanna come on your cock, Binnie, please make me c-come!”

Subin growls at your high pitched begging and sets the pace at a breakneck speed, seconds away from destroying you. “Your wish is my command, princess.” He says hotly.

It takes three more moans of “oh my god” for you to reach your high, officially falling apart when Subin whispers in your ear as he thrusts up into you, “Come for me, y/n.”

And you obey easily, screaming louder than you have all night as you lose yourself in the feeling of spinning out in a haze of pleasure. You’ve never felt anything as fucking good as this- not in a million years.

Subin can’t wait another second before he pulls out quickly, cutting it really close as your orgasm causes him to lose all control and comes over your tummy, covering you in his seed; thankfully, you’re too blissed out to give a damn about the sticky mess, the both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon as you collapse onto your sides with eyes shut tightly.

You both wind down with your chests heaving, unsure of how many minutes pass by (at least four, but you guess it’s more than that) until Subin turns to face you with a warm grin.

“How was it, princess?” He asks with just the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks.

You smile back at him, your fingers weaving with his and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “I loved it, Binnie, every bit of it.” You admit softly, your face taking on a glow of sheer happiness that looks so damn sexy on an angel like you. Subin can’t help pulling your head towards his to give you a long, sweet kiss, this one slow and unhurried as you bask in the intimacy of just being together.

“I love you y/n.” He murmurs, and you smile against his lips as you tell him you love him more.

You stay curled up like that for a few moments until Subin remembers what a mess he’s left on your tummy, the pink flush spreading when he moves to get up from the bed. You whine, thinking he’s leaving, but he shushes you and strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just gonna get you cleaned up, baby, I’ll be right back.” He promises. You let his hand go, eyes sliding shut as you begin to feel exhaustion setting in. He gets up and walks to the bathroom to get a wet rag, still feeling dazed from the wild ride he never expected to happen tonight, and comes back to dab at your stomach. You wiggle at the tickling sensation, laughing quietly when Subin purposefully blows cold air on your skin just to be funny.

He grabs a t-shirt once he’s finished cleaning you up, coaxing your tired body into sitting up for a few seconds so he can tug it on you before letting you flop back down. You lay there on your back, eyes shutting again, and Subin can’t stand how cute and sweet you look all swaddled in his clothes with your cheeks glowing brightly. You’re perfect, he thinks to himself as he slides on some pajama pants, absolutely freaking perfect.

He manages to get you underneath the covers and turns out the light before he slips into bed with you, mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of your chest. He can hardly believe that you’re asleep so quickly; but your little sighs give you away, confirming that you have, indeed, drifted off into dreamland.

Subin smiles to himself and kisses your cheek lovingly as he cradles you in his arms.

“Sleep well, princess.” He whispers softly, “You deserve it.”

- 

𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗵, 2021. 𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 @𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖿𝖿𝗌; 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒! -𝗸𝘆𝗹𝗮

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

    - Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

    - Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

    - Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom? 

    - Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day. 

    - Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair. 

    - Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

    - I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her. 

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been. 

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

     - You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor. 

     - You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen. 

     - What if I need to call out for you? 

     - I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win. 

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

    - Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand. 

    - They look good together. 

    - It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side. 

    - What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.  

     - Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits. 

     - What do you know about politics?

     - What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in? 

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was. 

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more. 

    - Try not to escape for the next hour.

    - Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

    - Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business. 

    - Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy. 

    - As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want. 

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too. 

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office. 

     - How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

     - What do you need?

     - I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go. 

     - I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

    - Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca. 

    - She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up. 

    - Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form. 

    - The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

    - Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat. 

    - I just don’t think ...

    - You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

    - Yes. 

    - You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here. 

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through. 

   - You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable. 

   - Oh 

   - The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels. 

   - Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying​ @buckyswillows​ @blossomslibrary​ @juliesland​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically​ @red-head011​ @poisonous00​ 

[h2bakugou]

Hey! i just wanted to say that i love your writing. So this may be a little complicated if thats okay but i had cancer when i was younger and i would like to see if you could write about kirishima and bakugo (separately) crush being hit by a quirk that makes them younger again or something like that and them seeing their crush in a horrible state like they cant walk anymore . IM SORRY if this is complicated you dont have to do bakugo if its too much.

a/n: hi! tysm <3!! of course, i hope you're doing well hun !! if there's anything you need me to change/edit within this please let me know!!

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o being hit by a quirk that makes them the age when they were sick

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, angst

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s been a tough day on the field, especially with a villain attack appearing from seemingly nowhere. It’s caused a mess, and everyone’s on edge.

Most noticeable though is Bakugou. You’re fighting one on one with this villain and he doesn’t doubt your abilities by any means, but you’re worn down and tired, your movements are slower, you’re starting to reach your limit.

And all it takes is one hit from this nameless villain’s quirk and you’re down for the count.

Bakugou’s tired of fending off goons and dashes over to you, taking down the villain to the best of his ability.

But what he doesn’t expect is when he turns back to you, instead of seeing you, he sees the pile of your clothes covering a much smaller version of you.

You’ve shrunk?

No, you’ve gotten younger. 

Just barely lifting your head, you start to cough. 

“Shit, hey get someone over here!” Bakugou shouts to one of the other students, hoping an adult could rush over and try and help-not that he needed it, but he was worried.

It wasn’t long before another pro hero was wrapping your younger self up in your clothes.

If Bakugou had to guess, he’d say you were around five to eight years old.

You sat in a hospital bed for a few hours before Aizawa finally arrived, noticeably worried about the state you were in. You didn’t even remember the people standing around you.

“They’re in critical condition. If this age regression quirk has sent their body back in time, we’re going to be in a bit of hurry to get them back to their normal state. They’ve had a history of medical concerns.”

Bakugou has to step out of the room, supported by Kirishima and Kaminari as he tries not to seem like he’s heavily affected by the state your in.

“They’re going to be fine, if it’s just some sort of temporary affect, they’ll be back to their healthy old self soon!” Kaminari tries to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t seem to help.

When you’re released from the hospital to return back to campus, you’re placed under surveillance.

You’re much younger now, and you can barely walk, it’s tearing everyone apart. All of your friends stop by whenever they can, trying to see if you remember them which usually never works.

Bakugou stops by often as well, normally at night when no one else comes around.

He talks about little things like All Might and always brings in his little toy figurines that he’d swore he’d never show anyone.

You laugh and smile, waving them around making all sorts of noises all while ignoring the fact that Bakugou is nearly in tears at the sight of you.

The effects last two weeks. It’s the longest two weeks of everyone’s lives, most importantly Bakugou’s.

When you wake up and see Bakugou sound asleep beside you, his head laying on the medical bed you’d been sleeping in for the past two weeks, you’re confused.

“Hey, Katsu’?” You ruffle his blonde hair and he’s up instantly.

He’s embracing you in the tightest hug known to man, surely putting All Might’s to shame.

Kissing you too, he can’t stop himself from holding you and mumbling about how worried he was about and how he’ll never let something like that happen to you again.

“I never dabbled in my past much, but I’m doing much better now, I’m sorry I gave you a scare.” You rub his cheek, wiping away a few rare tears that fall from his crimson eyes.

“I love you so fuckin’ much.” He utters, his lips pointing upward in a smile.

“I love you too.”

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

The fight is surely rigged. There’s no way you’re going to win, not alone anyway. 

Kirishima is making his way to you as fast as he can, but when he gets to you it’s far too late.

You’re cowering before him, your costume baggy on your visibly smaller and weaker frame, tears pouring from your eyes as your body strains to stand upright.

The villain is gone, but not too far gone that they don’t get captured by patrolling pros on the scene.

Rushing you to the nearest hospital to undergo some sort of evaluation, all Kirishima can do in the meantime is wait alongside Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and even a slightly less angry Bakugou.

When the nurse returns to explain your situation, Kirishima is mortified.

Refusing to leave your side until he’s forced to by Mina to take care of himself because it’s what you’d tell him to do, all he can do is wait and hope that you’ll get better.

You can’t walk without having someone help you, and the worst part is, you don’t even recognize him.

Kaminari takes the role of making you smile and laugh while Kirishima adds throws in random memories turned into stories hoping it’ll jog some part of your memory connected to how old you actually are.

But nothing seems to work and all you can do is sit in wonder as he tells you about how present-pre age regression quirk you is really super awesome.

After being scolded by Mina on day one, Kirishima manages to take care of himself, but he spends most if not all of his free time with you. 

In a way it’s domestic, imagining the possible inevitability of raising a family with you, you’d always jokingly said he was great with kids.

Taking care of you is nice, he enjoys doing it now, buying you little gifts, helping you get something off a high shelf or just being a gentleman for you.

Holding the door for you, carrying your bags even when you yell at him not to and he swears a part of you has been inspired by Bakugou.

After the first week, he begins to get settled in, thinking if this is going to last a while, he wants to help however he can.

Aizawa ushers him to pay attention to studies and that you’re strong enough to power through this, and he understands, he believes wholeheartedly you are.

But part of him is sort of upset. He’d never known that you used to be like this. He hoped when it was all over you could explain.

And sure enough, after two weeks, you wake up, as if those two weeks had never happened.

You don’t seem to have much recollection of the two weeks, only a few hours on the last day seem to make it through to you.

Kirishima greets you with a hug and thousands of kisses.

He doesn’t let you go for hours, weeping into your embrace as he begs you to never scare him like that again.

You console him all while telling him about your past and the history of your medical condition and he understands. He’s thankful you’re where you are now, and he’s so happy to see back to your normal self again after those two weeks.

“I stayed with you as much as you could.” Kirishima whispers, kissing your cheek. Kaminari lifts his head up and starts laughing.

“Yeah, he was so worried about you. You’ve got yourself a keeper.” He jokes, making Kirishima’s cheeks match shades with his hair.

“I love you.” You mumble against his skin, hugging him tightly.

“I love you too.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[anxious2dsimp]

Maybe? | Jealous!Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader | Oneshot

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Flavour: Fluff ☁️

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: After Gojo is targeted by a group of curses and is adviced to lay low, he's forced to stay away from you. Though your relationship lacks a clear label, seeing you close to another guy from afar makes the sorcerer resort to an unexpected visit.

Warnings: Slight mention of hookups, but nothing more than a makeout happens in the one shot itself!

Meanings: (y/n) = your name, (n/n) = nickname

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A sigh escaped your lips as you checked your phone, turning the screen off as the excitement of a possible message from Gojo dissipated as quickly as it came. Though you two weren't officially dating, you definitely had had something going on for awhile; from weekly hangouts (that in reality were nameless dates or hookups) to the constant chatting on the phone or work visits, things were going great as you got closer to the charismatic yet mysterious man.

Or at least, that was the case until nearly a month ago, when Gojo vanished from your life from one day to the next. Fighting your fear of appearing clingy, you had let him be, assuming it probably had to do with his work he never talked to you about. Growing worried, you messaged him a couples weeks in but to no avail, and since the work visits and encounters with Gojo had stopped abruptly, you hadn’t heard from him again.

Though you didn't let it show, you couldn't help to feel dissapointed, thinking that he probably just got bored and ghosted you. You shook your head to get out of the trance you were in, focusing on the screen of your laptop and letting your thoughts drown in the sounds of the busy café you were at. Little did you know that the very guy you thought now hated your guts was sitting at a secretive corner of the same café, watching from a distance.

Gojo didn't usually listen to Nanami, but for once he did agree that with a group of organized curses after him, being near anyone he cared for would only put them at risk. So although he wanted to see you, he resigned himself to watch from afar, praying that you didn't get over waiting and decided to move on from whatever it was that you two had.

Almost as if on cue, the sound of you giggling suddenly made him become alert, poking his head out from behind the newspaper he was holding up so fast that his glasses nearly fell off. There was no confusing it, that was your angelical, unique laugh, but who was the source of it?

Sitting at your table you smiled happily as you chatted with the waiter who had brought your order. Gojo, who was in the dark as to what it was you were so excitedly talking about, wasn't at all happy with the interaction once he saw it wasn’t precisely profesional. His jaw was clenching and blue eyes narrowed at the sight of the guy very clearly blushing as you looked up at him with those sparkly eyes of yours, laughing carelessly. He cursed under his breath, this spionage was just supposed to be a checkup on you, but now he felt like it was his mission to not let anyone get between you two.

A few hours later, he huffed as he declared the mission unsuccesful. After all, there wasn’t much he could do that wouldn’t betray his identity, so he just had to resign himself to watching you two chat and exchange numbers before you left for your apartment. Though in reality you were doing it just get Gojo out of your mind, he had no idea, so he proceeded to put plan B in action.

That night had started like any other, you were just sitting on your bed in a comfy shirt and sweats while you watched a show on your laptop, when a tap from your window made you look up. The first sensation you felt was fear, as there were fire escape stairs right outside your window and you were constantly concerned about the idea of someone climbing up to rob you.

Another tap woke you from your trance as you stood up and grabbed a shoe to throw at the possible intruder, not really knowing what else to do as you walked up to the curtain and slightly moved it to the side. “Gojo?” you said confused as the white haired man stood outside your window with a hood on, smiling ecstatically and waving (he was lucky his unique hair and eyes were distinguishable even with a hood on and the dim lighting from your room).

“Hey (y/n)! Can I come in?” You heard his voice through the glass as he pointed towards the locked handle. Suddenly feeling tongue tied you opened the window and he climbed inside, taking the hood off as you closed it after him. “It’s good to see ya,” he said with a smile. Was he seriously going to pretend he didn’t just ghost you for a month and then visited you at 1 in the morning by climbing up the fire escape?

“I have to say I’m kind of surprised,” you said at a lack of better words, scratching your neck awkwardly as he looked down at you with curious eyes, how could he not get it? “I thought you had ghosted me if I’m being honest.”

“What?! Never! You know I care about you,” he said dramatically as you just pinched your nose in response. “Gojo, you literally disappeared for a month and then come visit me in the middle of the night,” you explained what you already thought was obvious, earning a sigh from the guy in question as he deflated his chest. “I’m not stupid you know? Just, tell me what’s going on,” you stated sincerely as you looked up at his impossibly blue eyes.

That was the first time you had seen Gojo look serious as he scanned your face, thinking of a way to formulate everything so you’d take him seriously. “It’s a long story, but if you’re down to hear it,” he started, quirking his brow up at you. “I’ll get us some snacks then,” was all you replied before he followed you to out of your room.

Two hours later, you just blinked at Gojo who sat beside you on your couch as you faced each other, an empty bag of candy on your lap. He had been careful to go into enough detail so you know he was for real, but had left out the supernatural part for now since he didn’t want to scare you just yet. So for now he was a cop going undercover because a band of criminals was after him, hence his secretive and odd behaviour. “I swear to god if this is just an elaborate lie,” you said as you pointed your finger at his face as menacingly as you could, trying to hide the geniune relief and happiness you felt knowing he was still into you.

“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked as he grabbed your hand from in front of his face and rubbed circles into the back of it as he placed it between you two. He was desperate to be back on your good side, you knew him well enough to tell just from the look in his eyes. You let out the sigh you had been holding in as you look over at the clock by the table, his gaze following yours as he awaited your reply.

“It’s gotten late, I guess you can stay over if you want,” you said as you try to contain the smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Thank you!” he exclaimed, happy about having recieved a second chance as he launched himself at you from across the sofa and started peppering kisses all over your face and neck. You giggled in response, finally relaxing as you let yourself smile, unknowingly motivating Gojo as he thought back at the café from earlier, his hands becoming hungrier as he tried to touch every inch of your body and pulled you closer to him.

“I missed your laugh so much, you have no idea,” he said slightly breathless between kisses as he trapped your waist between his arms, finally kissing your lips where you felt his smile, “I missed all of you actually.”

“I missed you too, ya big goofball,” you said earning a chuckle from the guy as you ran your fingers through his soft locks, pulling him in to a deep kiss. When you finally pulled away for air, him practically on top of you as you laid back against the cushions of the sofa, he started lowering himself down again. “See? You don’t need to flirt with random waiters who hit on you, I’m more than enough,” he said barely above a whisper, probably too caught up in a state of bliss to realize he had said it out loud.

You placed your hand in his collarbone, holding him back as he raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. That’s when it hit you; “you mean the guy from the café?” you asked, making Gojo snap out of it as his eyes became wide as saucers, trying to recall if he had in fact said his thoughts outloud. “I- um- well,” he stumbled over his words as you couldn’t contain the amused expression on your face, this was probably the first time you had caught Gojo offguard.

“Satoru, where you spying on me?”

“(n/n) will you be my s/o?”

“wHA- Don’t change the subject! I asked first,” you exclaimed at his diversion as your face erupted in a dark blush, slightly darker than the one that appeared on the pale man’s face when he had been caught red handed.

“And I asked second!”

“I swear to god...”

“Ok but only because I wanted to see you! Please, I’m not a creep or a pervert, I just wanted to check on you and see if you were doing alright!”

Why did he even bring it up again? Wait, was he...

“Hold on, did you do all of this because you were jealous?”

“...”

“Satoru,” you said in a warning tone as he sat back up, you doing the same.

“Ok, maybe I was jealous, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean everything I did or say! I just, realized I needed you. So yeah, he was a factor in my decision to come see you, just one though.”

“Aww so you were jealous,” you teased him as you poked his cheek, earning an eye roll from the blushing man. “I mean if you wanna ‘aw’ just because of that first part go off, I guess,” he said pouting as your smile just widened.

“Well, if you still want my answer to your question; yes,” you said as you nervously looked anywhere but at him. “Huh?” That was his only response, and when you turned to him all you saw was him looking at you with clueless eyes.

“Oh, as in- So this means we’re official?” His face lit up the second he realized, putting his hands on your thighs as he brought you closer to him. “I mean, if you agre-”

You were cut off by his lips passionately and roughly pressing against yours, quite literally taking your breath away. Giving in to his excitement you let him pull you into his lap, straddling his waist as his hands found the small of your back.

“So I’m assuming, you’ll tell people who hit on you you’re taken now,” he stated once you broke apart for air, his forehead resting against yours.

“Satoru!”

After that night, his random visits became usual. You had no problem with his secretive behaviour and neither did he with you being out in the world being hit on by whoever, because you had each other.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading this, hope you like it! I just need some goofy Gojo fluff with everything that’s going down in JJK these past few episodes! I would really appreciate it if you followed, noted/liked this or maybe even requested something if you enjoy my writing, so feel free to do so <3