#spaces for living and spaces for forgetting

[sparklingchim]

game on 05 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x oc

word count: 2.9k

tropes: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warning: jk flexing his abs (he is just a man😔), sleeping in one bed, mentions of oc flashing her boobs in the past (rumour created by jk), they compare their abs..😭, cuddles <3, their parents adore them <3,

summary: the hardest part so far: lying to your parents. a close second: squeezing into jungkook's tiny twin bed with his big body taking up too much space.

a/n: finished this up listening to new lorde n eating pizza at 4am oh how i love life !!!!!

masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The thing about fake dating is that it works great until you’re sitting across from both your mothers and your dad at your not-boyfriend’s family dinner table, and suddenly everyone’s looking at you like you’ve already picked out wedding venues.

Jungkook had the audacity to look normal. You were barely holding it together, one fake smile and suspiciously warm face at a time.

“I didn’t realise you two were so close these days,” Jungkook’s mum says, smiling sweetly. “I was so happy when I saw the news, but also a little hurt that I had to find out through the internet and not from my own son.” Her gaze slides pointedly to Jungkook, giving him a scolding look. “I’ve been hearing all kinds of things about you through the internet.”

Oh no. Once mums start scolding you for one thing, they bring up every mistake you’ve ever made too. One thing turns into five, and suddenly you’re being reminded of stuff you did when you were a child.

But obviously, Jungkook’s used to this – sitting in the hot seat while his mum lectures him. He doesn’t even flinch anymore. Just lets the scolding roll off and ignores the jabs.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” he retorts, voice smooth, hand resting on the back of your chair like it belonges there. It didn’t. But now it does. Kinda? “It just kind of… happened. And it felt right.”

You are going to die here. Choke on your food and perish.

“___ didn’t say anything either,“ your dad pipes up, immediately throwing you under the bus.

“She has a lot on her plate,” your mum cuts in, quick to defend you. “At least she always makes time to call. And she visits when she can.”

Jungkook’s mum gives her son another pointed glare before her face softens as she turns to you. Her tone shifts completely, warm and doting. “How’s university, sweetheart? You’re not running yourself into the ground, are you?”

You sit up a little straighter under the attention, managing a small smile. “Ah, there’s always a lot to do. But it’s not too much.”

She nods approvingly, already scooping more rice into your bowl before you can protest. “Good. You always were such a hardworking girl. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too, hmm?”

“And you’re joining Jungkook for the world cup?” your dad asks. “You sure it won’t be too stressful with university and everything?”

“It’s just a few weeks,” you say, trying to sound more chill than you feel. “My exams are still far away anyway, I’ll manage. Most of the work I can keep up with online.”

“The only thing I’m really worried about is the flight,” you admit, voice dipping slightly. “Being up in the air for that long kind of freaks me out.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jungkook says. “It’s really not that bad. We’ll probably sleep the whole plane ride anyway.”

“Our Jungkook will make sure to take care of you,” his mum chimes in, beaming with full maternal confidence. “Right? You’ll look after her properly – make sure she feels safe and comfortable. Especially because she’s willing to keep up with her studies while traveling, which is very responsible.”

You nod, cheeks heating. Her approval has always felt… different. Kinder. She’s not your mum. She doesn’t have to think the world of you, but she always has. She’s been rooting for you since the days you and Jungkook used to sit cross-legged on the living room floor doing homework together.

“Of course,” Jungkook says easily. His voice is light, when he glances over at you, his eyes are all doe-like and shiny, crinkling at the corners the way they only do when he’s being extra sincere. “I always try to take care of her.”

And then, ever so casually, his hand reaches up to rest lightly on your shoulder. His fingers brush your shoulder for a second, barely there, but enough to make you feel it everywhere.

Your lips twitch with the start of a smile you’re trying hard to hide. You shyly look away.

“I wish your dad could see you two like this,” his mum says with a fond smile. She tilts her head, gaze softening even more with pure endearment. “Such a shame he had to work this evening.”

All three of you look at Jungkook and you with adoring eyes. This is probably all they’ve hoped your entire lives long.

You swallow a little harder than usual.

“I’m so glad you two found each other.” Your dad gives you an approving smile. “You’ve always looked after each other. Even as little kids.”

“Finally ___ could bring some sense into Jungkook’s life,” his mum says. “I didn’t like your behaviour at all, Jungkook.” She directly speaks to him. “It’s time to stop behaving like a young boy, hm? Stop acting reckless. You’ve got someone beside you now.”

Jungkook blinks. He probably thought the scolding was over. “Mum...”

You have to stifle your giggles. If his dad were here, the conversation would’ve already derailed into football tactics and match predictions, with your dad chiming in too. But in his absence, Jungkook’s mum is fully in charge and she’s on a roll.

“He’s been good,” you add quickly, defending him. “He’s a very good boyfriend.”

You can feel Jungkook’s stare burning into the side of your face, but you refuse to look at him. One glance and you might start laughing or fumbling your words or blushing or whatever.

You don’t say anything else. But you think he knows.

~

Somehow, Jungkook’s mum managed to trick you both into staying the night.

She started with a sweet suggestion – “Why don’t you sleep here and have breakfast with us in the morning? Jungkook’s dad will be home then too!”

Without much resistance (none), you found yourself smiling and nodding along. Because who says no to Jungkook’s mum?

This is not a regular sleepover, though. This is not popcorn and movies and matching pyjama sets. This is sharing a bed that is definitely not made for two people, in a room that still has posters of football players from 2010.

You’ve been offered one of Jungkook’s old high school football jerseys, which hangs halfway to your knees, and a pair of smallish athletic shorts you had to tie tight around your waist to keep them from slipping – both a little ridiculous, both weirdly comforting.

But even with his clothes on your body, you’ve been granted no special privileges.

Your regular resident monster is hogging the bed.

Jungkook’s broad shoulders stretch close to the edge, and his strong arms don’t exactly make it easy for you to claim your side.

And you’re just. Lying there. Eyes wide open.

Fake dating, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

“I don’t think I could ever get married,” you blurt out.

“What? Why?” he asks, clearly startled. “You’re too much of a lover girl to be saying shit like that.” You feel him shift slightly, looking over at you.

“Sleeping next to a man for the rest of my life? Doesn’t sound appealing to me.”

“You don’t wanna to spend every waking moment with the love of your life?”

“I want to, but.” You meet his gaze. “What if he snores like you?”

He scoffs. “Rude.”

“It’s a real concern.”

“Your love would be big enough to drown out the snoring?” He fully turns on his side, moving the mattress and making you pray he won’t accidentally push you off.

“That’s your argument?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “I think if you love someone enough, you’d stop noticing the noise. Maybe even become comforting.”

“That’s… actually kind of cute.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, maybe I’m not writing off marriage completely.”

“I’m always changing lives.”

“All you did was defend snoring.”

“And love,” he says, pointing at himself. “Don’t forget love.”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks feel a little warm. His face is close now, his hair a soft mess and his expression sleepy but somehow still handsome. You shift just a bit to make space.

“You can come closer,” Jungkook says, pulling you to him by your waist.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

Jungkook grabs your arm before you can even try to get out of bed.

“No. Imagine my mum catching you in the living room in the morning.”

“I’ll say your snoring bothered me,” you say. “Which would not be a total lie.”

You’re concerned about not being able to fall asleep with his snoring in your ear and the very real possibility of him accidentally pushing you off the bed. The couch sounds like a dream compared to this.

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promises. “But mum would immediately assume we had a fight if she catches one of us on the couch.” He sighs. “Would make us wash dishes side by side like back when we were kids and had a fight.”

“I’m so good at washing dishes now, though,” you say. “I’m thankful for her bonding strategy, honestly.”

“You’re weird for enjoying cleaning up.”

“But it’s so therapeutic!” you defend. “It’s just me, my dishcloth, and a good audiobook. I love it.”

“You’re, like, every mothers dream daughter-in-law.”

Your eyelashes flutter in a tentative, shy way. “You think so?”

Jungkook sniffs a laugh at your reaction. “Studying medicine seals half the deal already.”

“Remember when you had that injury from football in the first year of high school, and your mum called me right after you got back from the hospital to check if the doctors knew what they were doing?”

Jungkook groans at the memory. “She kept bugging me to send you photos of my meds so you could double-check if they prescribed the right thing,” he says. “Like, just because you wanted to be a doctor back then didn’t mean you actually knew anything.”

“She’s cute.”

“She’s overprotective.”

“She cares about her baby,” you retort, voice a little high-pitched as you squish his cheeks together with your hand.

“You know, I was just thinking how I strive to be more like you, but I rest my case.” His hand clutches your wrist. “I don’t want to be someone who does stuff like this.”

“Too tired to be silly?” You let go of his face, dropping your hand on his chest.

“Too much food,” he sighs dramatically, giving his tummy a few taps.

You frown. “There’s no food baby.”

Jungkook lifts his shirt, showing off the rippled lines across his abdomen. “Just pretty abs.”

“I have those too, you know.” You tug Jungkook’s jersey up a few inches, just enough to reveal the soft skin of your belly. “They’re just hiding.” The jersey pools around your ribs, the fabric bunching slightly in your hands.

He chuckles. Then with a grin, he reaches over and gently pokes your tummy, making you flinch.

“They shy?” he says, amused. “Gotta coax them out?”

“They’re waiting for me to pick up my Pilates classes again.” You tug the jersey down again. “I've had a defined tummy for a bit, but I'm just too lazy when it comes to working out. I have zero discipline in that regard.”

Because why would you willingly choose moving your body when you could use your free time to curl up in bed and sleep?

“Lets work out in the gym together,” he proposes. “I'll motivate you.”

“Why do you always try to get me to work out with you?”

“So we can spend more time together?”

“We’re about to spend plenty of time together.”

“It’s gonna give class trip vibes,” he beams. “So excited to be there with the boys and you.”

You’re excited too. You’ve never left the country before, and the idea of going abroad feels surreal, but you wish the circumstances were different. Is pretending going to be easy with so many eyes on you?

You pout a little at the thought, kicking off the sheets as warmth starts spreading across your body.

Jungkook frees himself from the sheets too. “It’s hot,” he mutters.

“Your room’s too tiny for two people in summer.”

Jungkook sits up just enough for his arm to bump into yours. You let out a little grumpy noise.

“Jungkook,” you huff, giving him a lazy shove. “Personal space.”

Only then do you realise he’s pulling his t-shirt over his head, the fabric dragging slowly up his torso before he chucks it somewhere into the abyss that is his floor. It’s dark, but not dark enough. Your eyes still catch on the muscles of his back, the dip of his waist, the way his shoulder blades shift with the motion.

“Personal space doesn’t exist on this bed.” His voice is a bit low, probably the sleepiness seeping through, but coupled with him slowly dragging his hand through his hair it makes it feel like more than just tiredness.

Your eyes flick to the stretch of his arm, the shift in his shoulders. It’s mildly offensive how effortlessly good he looks. Maybe even a bit annoying.

“Why are you getting naked?”

Jungkook laughs and looks down at you. “I usually never wear this much to bed.”

“You can take your sweatpants off too,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

Jungkook tilts his head. His hair falling over his forehead in little strands. “You trying to get me naked?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to be the only one getting naked,” he shamelessly tosses out.

This absolute freak. Jungkook has to tease you every 5 minutes or else he’ll spontaneously combust.

“This is not 10th grade truth or dare strip version,” you reply, unfazed. But then the memory hits you like a brick. “Oh my god, remember that school trip? When we all snuck into Jimin’s room and someone asked you a relatively tame question, and you took your shirt off for no reason, but everyone knew you just wanted to show off?” You shove his shoulder playfully, remembering his silly antics from high school. “You literally just wanted to flex in front of Hyejin.”

Jungkook sighs dreamily at the memory as he gets comfy on the bed. “Ah, teenage hormones and desperation. Simpler times.”

“I bet you’d do the same thing right now if you had a crush.”

He turns his head on the pillow to face you, smile soft and cheeky. A quiet dimple tucks into his cheek.

“Shirt’s off already.” He raises an eyebrow and lets his gaze flick very obviously from your eyes to your mouth and back.

“Ugh,” you grumble, closing your eyes for a second. “How am I going to tolerate you for two whole weeks during the world cup?”

“Just the way you ignored me during the game when Taehyung dared you to kiss someone, and you refused my offer to just kiss me so you wouldn’t have to take off your clothes?”

You immediately cover your face with your hands. “Don’t remind me.”

“That was the highlight of the night. Taehyung knew you wouldn’t do the dare. Just wanted you to take off your shirt.”

“You said ‘if you’re too nervous I’ll volunteer’.”

“I was giving you a way out! I knew you weren’t gonna kiss any of those douchebags.”

“You said it in front of like ten people, Jungkook. What was I supposed to do, make out with you in the middle of the circle?” You shake your head in disbelief. “Do you think Taehyung thinks of us sometimes?” you ask, curiosity tugging at your words.

“Nah, he’s too busy with his influencer friends now.” He rolls his eyes as he says it.

Taehyung was such a good friend until high school ended, and everyone’s lives drifted apart. He stopped showing up to hangouts and stopped texting.

“Anyway, my offer would’ve saved you flashing your tits at everyone.”

You sit up, glaring at him. “I was not flashing my tits at everyone. I had a bra on!”

He was the one flashing his tits.

“Well then, flashing your cute bra at everyone,” he corrects. He’s got one hand behind his head, looking at you through amused eyes.

You think for a second. “I don’t remember what bra I was wearing.”

“A white one. It had little cherries all over and a little bow in the middle.”

“That one!” you perk up. You click your tongue mournfully. “Grew out of it though.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. His gaze drops down to your chest – though there’s really nothing to see, not with you absolutely drowning in his old jersey. Still, his eyes linger with a soft kind of amusement.

“We could buy a new one?”

“No, some things are better left as good memories.”

Without a word, Jungkook wraps an arm around you and gently tugs you down onto his chest. You let yourself go easily, curling into his side, and resting your head on his chest.

“Then I hope you’ll always think of that bra fondly.” His fingers brush absentmindedly along your spine.

You giggle. “Thank you, silly.”

When you start to shift back to your ridiculously tiny sliver of the bed – because someone (the bicep exhibit to your right) is taking up eighty percent of the mattress – Jungkook presses a gentle hand to the small of your back, stopping you.

“You can stay.”

“But I drool.”

“That’s okay. I snore.”

You consider it for a moment. “Fair trade.”

Jungkook chuckles as you settle again, placing your head right back on his chest. His hand stays where it is, comfortable and still.

You wake up multiple times that night.

Each time, you try to inch further toward the edge of the bed, desperate to escape the relentless, blaring noise of Jungkook’s snoring.

But every single time, he reaches for you in his sleep. An arm looping around your waist, a hand tugging you back in.

You stop fighting, eventually. Let the (annoying) noise carry you through the night while you’re half-draped over Jungkook’s chest, face smushed into warm skin, drooling peacefully.

[lostcausezealot]

The Shipping Allegations

DESCRIPTION: In which fans are avid fans of RumiY/n and three months since their hiatus, HUNTR/X’s comeback and your new solo album didn’t help.

Romantic, Read with slight caution (It tackles the part with Celine and Rumi so)

Rumi x Celine’s daughter!Reader 

There are wave to earth lyrics

Celine’s A grade parenting

Not proof read

Helloooo! This is actually my very first fic and I'm very rusty. I hope you enjoy the fic :))

Three months later when HUNTR/X announced their hiatus, released a series of photos for their comeback

It was posted all over social media photo of you four, a solo pic of each of the members. All seems fine. 

Until a certain photo of you and Rumi.

Shipping allegations have always been in every fandom. There was nothing new to that, but they couldn’t help but take notice how the photo of you both looks like something too romantic to be true.

From the photoshoot, it was a photo of your arms on your knees, ducking your head while admiring the leader with such adoring eyes. While Rumi stared back at you, laughing.

Fans always knew that you two were close since day one. Before the group even came to be.

Fans noticed the rift between you and your mother three months ago. Right just after defeating Gwi-Ma.

And they definitely noticed how defensive you grew when people continuously target Rumi’s patterns.

“I don’t get it, honestly,” You spoke in an interview. “It’s Rumi’s choice to let her patterns show. It’s her own body, why do people we barely know get to decide what she wants?”

The fans went crazy about it.

It was normal for Mira and Zoey to speak out in defense of their leader, but you? You were the quiet and gentle one out of the four.

Daily HUNTR/X @dailyhuntrix

Aren’t we going to question how y/n, the one who usually goes with the flow of HUNTR/X defended Rumi LIVE ON INTERVIEW?!?!?!?!?

TILL IS SEEING HUNTR/X IN # DAYS @zomira

THE RUy/n IS STRONG TODAY GUYS

Zo | spoilers @Mirawife

What a fucking day this has been

It truly didn’t help that Mira and Zoey decided to join in.

MIRA @MiraHUNTRX

We just saw that right @Zoey    

| ZOE @ZoeyHUNTRX 

  Oh, we definitely did HELLO??

|| RUMI @RumiHUNTRX 

   What are you guys talking about…?

 ||| ZOE @ZoeyHUNTRX

       IT’S NOTHING ^ ^

It continued with videos of you and Rumi. 

“y/n and Rumi being hopelessly in love with each other for 5 minutes.”

That was the title of the video, and exploded.

The video had more views than their debut MV. Much to Bobby’s panic and Mira and Zoey’s delight.

Compiled from livestreams, backstage footage, fancams, interviews, and even stolen glances during concerts. 

The fandom had receipts, and they damn brought them.

Clip 1:

It was one of their scheduled livestreams, and Zoey and Mira were the ones in charge of it.

“Which one’s better, Romance or Abby?” Mira wanted to snarl with the question.

“Come on,” Zoey cheerfully grinned, “It’s just a question.”

“A question that can make Twitter explode,” Mira replied. “Both are unbearable.”

Right after she answered the question, the elevator opened, and lo and behold, you and Rumi entered the penthouse laughing at whatever the leader said.

Oh, and don’t forget the fact that they were holding hands.

The two looked over the two members with the livestream still on and immediately let go of each other.

“Oh! Mira, Zoey!” Rumi nervously laughed, “I didn’t know you were live!”

You jabbed her gut in response.

Clip 2:

It was a short clip of you and Rumi entering a boba shop. Clearly, paparazzi still have no sense of personal space, as the video kept going.

Just as Rumi is about to get her wallet, you hand your card to the cashier and pay for your order.

“Hey! I was supposed to pay!” Rumi exclaimed, the wallet still in hand.

“I was the one who asked you out,” You replied, grabbing the two drinks. “It makes sense that I pay, right?”

Rumi stayed silent before smiling, “Fine, but next time I’m the one paying.”

“Deal.”

Clip 3:

It was another livestream, and you and Zoey were the ones this time. 

The live was practically taken over with Zoey talking the most while you happily listened. 

Until a question appeared in the comments.

“Where did you get the ring in your necklace, y/n?” Zoey read out the comment.

“Hm? Oh!” You grabbed the ring while smiling, “A friend gave it to me.”

Zoey stared at you with a look while you confusedly stared back at her.

“What?”

“I actually don’t know where that necklace is from.” 

“Well, there’s a reason why you don’t.” 

The next day, fans found an old photo of Rumi wearing the same necklace. It wasn’t the same necklace.

And the fans knew it was a matching ring.

Clip 4:

It was a big night. HUNTR/X had just won Song of the Year at a major ceremony. Screams echoed across the stadium.

All four of you went up to accept the award. Zoey delivered the thank you speech, and Mira stood beside her.

You and Rumi were slightly behind them. Hidden from the camera angle.

Until one fan caught it on a side-angle shot.

You leaned close. Whispered something.

Rumi covered your mouth, laughing.

And then almost imperceptibly. You nodded.

Fans would later subtitle the moment with guesses:

"I told you we’d make it."

"Still think I don’t deserve you?"

"I always think we deserve each other."

Nobody ever got the real words. And you two never confirmed it.

Clip 5:

None of the clip was supposed to be leaked, really. There was a signed NDA. 

But of course, there will always be those types of people.

It was a celebration by the company in celebration of HUNTR/X's comeback. 

It was a blurry video of you and Rumi talking to each other, looking like in their own little bubble. 

It may be a blurry video, but the sight of Rumi taking your hand to kiss it was clear as day.

And shockingly, two of the members don’t know anything about the clip.

And then came your solo album. Fans were surprised.

They weren’t surprised by the fact that it was full of love songs. It was the fact that it didn’t sound like HUNTR/X at all.

It didn’t sound like Pop. It definitely didn’t sound like Kpop. It sounded like Indie Rock.

“It was kind of just a little side project.” You smiled. “A friend helped me with the lyrics.”

You are my sea, you are my sunshine

The star, the moon

Since when did a friend help with lyrics like that? 

And it kept going too.

Daisy, every time I see you, 

My day is getting coloured

If I could be by your side

I’ll give you all my life, my seasons

When you spoke to me

The words are like a flowing star

Suddenly, a TikTok from HUNTR/X with you 

“There’s a rumor that your solo album was inspired by someone special. Want to tell us who?” You read it out loud while reading the comment.

“I think anyone who listens already knows,” Your forehead was only shown in the video,o but fans could hear Mira and Zoey asking, well, practically screaming on who it's about.

“When are we going to tell them?” You suddenly asked while playing with Rumi’s hair.

“They know,” Rumi replied back eyes still closed. “They’re just waiting for us to tell them.”

“I mean the fans,” You softly smiled.

“They’re just waiting for us to tell them,” Rumi repeated the same words before laughing, “I mean, have you seen the theories on Twitter?”

“I saw one where it said we switch one of our shoes so that we can be matching,” Rumi scoffed in response before laughing.

She finally opened her eyes, staring right back at you, her eyes always shine so bright you thought.

The breaking point was a leak of a series of photos taken by a fan.

It was raining heavily, and the streets were empty. Except with you and Rumi.

From the photos, the two of you look like you were arguing. It looked like a very bad argument. 

Until the last photo was you softly holding her cheeks, Rumi’s hand holding your chin, and kissing you without a care in the world.

Fans went wild. No, fans went crazy. They went rabid at the photo, people were talking about it left and right.

God bless your PR Team because the moment the photo was leaked, they went to work.

The photo wasn’t even going to be leaked. The photo was leaked because someone hacked into the fan’s iCloud.

“Don’t you get it?!” Rumi yelled. The rain poured harder, and she clutched her arm. “This is what I am!”

“I know!” You yelled while softly placing your hand on her arm. “I know! And who cares?!”

This all started because Celine went to the penthouse unannounced. Looking for Rumi. In turn, it sent Rumi into a spiral the moment Celine finally left. 

She suddenly ran from the group, and you chased after her.

“Celine should’ve done what I asked her to!” Rumi’s eyes were wide as if she were being hunted down. 

You knew what she was trying to say. You saw it happen. You saw her kneeling, holding out the sword, while you seemed so far away, trying to run and get the sword away.

“Rumi-!” You called her out before getting cut off.

“I could hurt you!” Rumi yelled back, one of her eyes turned yellow, her patterns glowed purple in discomfort, “Why do you still love me when I’m like this?!”

How Ironic when one month ago, she asked your mother the opposite.

You softly grabbed the hand that was nitpicking her arm before kissing it, “Because you’re you…”

“Even with the patterns…” You couldn’t tell if the water from your cheeks was from the “You look beautiful…”

“You are beautiful…”

That seemed to finally get Rumi into her senses as she slowly started to calm down as you continued.

“You don’t need to hide it…” Both of your hands grabbed her cheeks, “You aren’t a monster. You aren’t a mistake.”

You could faintly see Rumi’s tears flowing down as you softly smiled.

“You’re Rumi.” You concluded, letting out a breath, “You’re the girl I fell in love with all those years ago.”

Rumi looked at you with wide eyes while you looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

What can she do other than kiss the lips that she so adored.

“I know that we’re going to have arguments,” You sneezed into the tissue, “But can we at least have it indoors?”

After the incident, the next day, it left sick. Fortunately, thanks to Rumi being half-demon, she didn’t get sick at all.

“Sorry…” Rumi murmured while placing the egg soup beside the bed, “At least, this is my way of making up to you.”

You hummed in response, “I saw the photos.”

Rumi stopped her movements before continuing, “Are you mad?”

“No,” Rumi looked over to see you smiling, “I’m glad people know now, and besides…”

You opened your phone to show your wallpaper with a teasing smile on your face.

“It’s a good wallpaper.”

A week later, there was a joint post from both of your accounts. It was both of you wearing the same ring on both of your hands, a smile on both of your faces with a captioned post.

the friend who gave me my in question isn’t just a friend, btw

P.S. no it's not a wedding ring

[smallfisheyes]

nanami finds you in the kitchen

Most days, Nanami forgets he has a roommate.

Kento knows you. You're the one who paces down the hall, creaking the floorboards of this old home. There are traces of you in the kitchen, the scent of brown sugar and cinnamon, a waft of a hearty meal with the tang of tomato, a trail of charcoal for failed dishes. Thank goodness, Kento would think. You’re human, at least. 

He knows you’re down the hall. There’s a bathroom between your rooms. He hears you pace, the creaking of old floorboards under your weight. Kento hears how you rummage and how often you drop things (often). He knows what brand of toothpaste you use, how you use an electric toothbrush, the colour of your loofah, and how you try to keep your shared spaces tidy (thank you). He has certainly heard your voice when you call a loved one or friend. Kento detects your presence with four out of five senses, but he has seen you, albeit not often.

The few times he’s home at regular hours, you’ll pass him in the hallways from your journey to your room to the kitchen downstairs. Only hellos and polite head nods are exchanged as you rush past each other to get to point B. Within the first few days of Kento moving in, you’d have to open the door for Kento when he arrived home. 

“I forgot to tell you the front entrance is hard to close,” you told him with a guilty smile. “I’ve been meaning to contact the landlord, but they’re hard to reach, so I’ve been using the back entrance. Did he give you the backdoor code?”

Kento would stumble inside, apologizing while slipping off his work shoes as you’d slam your hip into the door to close it. Embarrassed, he took your advice and has been slipping in and out of the back entrance that opens directly into the kitchen since. 

Kento thinks you’re nice, but if he has learned anything from his literature teacher before transferring to Jujutsu Tech, it was that nice has no meaning. It was a placeholder word; something to fill a void of empty opinion. Kento knows you, he lives with you, you’re not disagreeable, so you’re nice. Maybe if he wasn’t always at work and used his bedroom for sleeping rather than a place to crash on weekends, he could label you as more than just nice.

When Kento is in his room, he hears you pacing. When Kento is in the same room as you, you smile, then leave for work. When you’re in the living room watching TV, Kento is far away at work, likely staying over to complete the pile of work his boss just gave him that morning, even though it needed to be finished the night of. 

Maybe if he hadn’t been so quick to turn you away, he’d think you’re more than just nice.

It’s quiet in this house for two.

There are footsteps upstairs, but you’re not sure who they belong to. 

You’re in the kitchen, lights on in every room on the ground floor. The living room lights flicker occasionally, and you have headphones on, your music so high you can’t hear any noise beyond the rhythmic beat. You really don’t know whose footsteps belong to. 

At first, you thought the footsteps were Nanami’s, but you swore he wasn’t home. You got home at 5:30, and according to the past opening and closing of the back door entrance in the kitchen, Nanami always arrived home significantly later than you. Poor man.

It was easy to tell whose shoes were whose among the pile that neatly sat outside the backdoor entrance. Your shoes looked so petite compared to Nanami’s shiny work shoes. Come to think of it, he only seemed to keep his office shoes at the kitchen entrance, and the rest were your mix of footwear: white tennis shoes for casual outings, some running shoes comfortable for walking, and shoes fit for the office. If you weren’t embarrassed, you’d have your whole shoe collection down in the kitchen.

Looking at the pile of shoes by the kitchen door, it was obvious Nanami wasn’t home.

So, the locks. Someone could be in the house. Your heart rate had spiked. That’s worse than a ghost. The kitchen back door was locked. You tiptoed to the front entrance of the home. That was also locked. 

You plopped yourself back into the seat in the kitchen. It’s confirmed: there’s a ghost in your home. 

It sounds silly, but you’ve heard what it sounds like for Nanami to walk outside his door. The scuffle of his house slippers against the wood floorboards. There is the creaking, the dragging of feet. You listened for his footsteps to know when the kitchen was free, but also to know if he made it home. That man is so rarely home. If you were closer, you’d confront him about it.

Instead, there is someone lazily walking upstairs, going back and forth between your room and Nanami’s room with bare feet. It sounds nothing at all like Nanami’s footsteps. The sound is evident; there is a ghost in your house. 

When you first toured the house, long before Nanami signed his lease, the landlord’s son told you the house was old. 

“It dates back to the late 1800s,” the landlord's son explained. “We’ve done extra work on the house. When we first bought it, it was a dump. Now, it’s a very nice place to live, and it’s close to the city and work; good for young people like you.”

You had agreed, laughing along to the jokes the son shared. His cheerfulness dropped to a sombre expression when you arrived in the upstairs hallway.

“This neighbourhood is known for strange activity, so be careful.” 

You had thought he was referring to the people who stumbled outside your home when nighttime fell. There would be scuffles here and there, sometimes between street cats, and scraggly yells from outside. It appeared the strange activity reached within your home’s walls, too.

If you knew him a little better, you’d worry for Nanami, but that broody expression of his would do enough to ward away the nightwalkers. 

With the sound of footsteps coming from upstairs, you kept yourself occupied in the kitchen. You could prepare your lunch for tomorrow. Now you’re thinking about calling in sick and finding somewhere to sleep, because there was no way you’d be functional at work. Neither could you sleep in this house with a pacing ghost outside your room. 

The hours in the kitchen have been long. Music continues to blast into your ears. You worry if you’ll feel the ghost’s breath breathing down onto your neck. Would it be cold? Worse, what if you see a ghost?

It is three in the morning, and Nanami Kento finally arrives home. 

"Hi, Nanami."

Kento startles, keys rattling from his hands. You're sitting in the kitchen just as he opens the back entrance to the house, your headphones on the side of the table. Your hands are wrapped around a mug he's sure you can't find in a store. Did you paint it yourself?

Your eyes widen, watching Kento stumble to regain his footing.

"Sorry." He apologizes before you can. "I wasn't expecting anyone in the kitchen at this hour."

You glance at the oven clock. In green, it reads three in the morning.

"Yeah," you start, the word a bit too drawn out. "I'd be in my room, but I think there's a ghost walking around upstairs." You drum your fingers along the table.

Nanami blinks. “There’s a ghost upstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know it’s a ghost? Could it be an intruder?”

You’ve never heard Nanami so serious. His voice is hardened, and he fixes you with a no-nonsense stare. You straighten up, adjusting yourself in your chair. “I got home around 5:30. I locked the door behind me, and I left for work after you and locked it then, too. We never use the front door, and that’s also locked. I don’t think anyone besides us is home.” 

“Okay,” Nanami nods. “Are you hurt?” He seems to soften.

You frown. Small. “No.”

“I’ll check upstairs then.” Nanami slips off his work shoes (so big compared to yours), sets down his briefcase, slips on his house shoes, and calmly moves to the stairs, passing you along the way. 

He does this so cooly, with no second thought, you watch with your mouth hanging open stupidly like a fish. You could never do that, especially without fear. 

Your eyes trail after Nanami as he goes up the stairs. “Do you want me to come?” you call after him. You mean it, but reluctantly.

“No need.” Nanami rolls back his shoulders as he climbs, back somehow straighter than when he entered the house. A serious expression crosses his face, but it does little to erase the dark circles under his eyes. 

Nanami disappears when he turns into the dark hallway towards your bedrooms. 

There’s silence, then the shuffle of feet. It’s the same lazy footsteps from before. You shiver. All you can hear are the ghost’s footsteps. 

“Nanami?” you call. You rise from your seat, about to make your way upstairs. There’s an edge to your voice. Concern, maybe, but the sound of concern for a stranger.

You hear heavy footsteps and the drag of house slippers. They’re Nanami’s footsteps.

You wait with bated breath, hovering over your seat.

There’s the sound of creaking again, then the tall figure of Nanami unharmed makes his way downstairs.

“You’re okay,” you say. You feel dumb for stating the obvious. Nanami rounds the corner and joins you in the kitchen, picking up his briefcase from the ground.

“I’m okay,” he replies. For someone who’s just encountered a ghost, he doesn’t look spooked at all. It makes you feel silly for cowering down here for so many hours and long into the morning. 

Nanami stands in the corner closest to the back entrance of the house, and a little too much like he wants you to leave. His face is pinched into what you think is annoyance. You remain seated at the kitchen table. The only thing keeping you here is the glue of awkwardness. 

The longer you sit, the more Nanami looks ready to retreat into his room as he usually does when he arrives home. Why wouldn’t he? He works for so long, and you don’t spend time with each other. You should go. He wants you to go.

Strangely, it’s Nanami who cuts through the silence. 

“There’s nothing to worry about. The ghost is harmless.”

“Thank you for checking,” you breathe. “But how do you know?” Another silly question, but you can’t help it.

Nanami shrugs. “Some experience.” He glances to the side, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “I have experience with spirits with negative energy. This one didn’t seem to have any bad energy, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You nod. You didn’t take Nanami as one who has experience with the paranormal, but you don’t want to question it. Your heart slows to a steady beat, but your nerves don’t leave you. You haven’t been in the same room as Nanami Kento for this long before. You literally sit at the edge of your seat, making an effort to balance your pelvis on the chair’s edge.

Nanami moves to leave, bowing his head and suitcase in hand. He wants to go. You feel a pang of hurt, but for some reason, you stop him. 

“Really. Thank you for checking upstairs. It was silly of me to be afraid.”

Nanami stops in his steps, straightening up. “You have reason to be afraid.”

For someone who meant to retreat, his voice is oddly affirming. It’s comforting. This time, he looks you straight in the eye, almost to say he means it. You’d like to think he means it. 

Since Nanami has moved in, you have put the extra effort into avoiding him. Yes, you introduced yourself when the landlord’s son had been doing his tours, putting the effort into giving him an extra shiny smile, and you introduced yourself again when Nanami had moved in. You had offered to help him move his things in, but Nanami insisted he do it on his own. He was polite, gentle, but curt. Then progressively blunt. 

“That box is quite heavy,” he would say. “I can handle it.” “I don’t have much. I can manage on my own.” “Let me do it.” It was polite talk, but his monotone and unmoving expression made him feel cold. So, you backed off. He’s handsome, obviously, but intimidating. His eyes are stern and always a little focused on what it’s fixed on, and his mouth is as flat as a plankboard. Maybe you can try again. You scooch away, retreating into your house.

As Nanami moved his belongings into his room, you remained in the living room, a blanket over your legs as you curled yourself into the corner of the couch with a book in hand. Still open, still there if he wants to speak to you. You read lines from your books in chunks rather than fluid pages as you listened to Nanami’s shuffling upstairs and the rearranging of boxes. You want to at least be friendly with your roommate. 

When Nanami returns downstairs and moves to the kitchen, you call out to him. He stops in his steps.

“Would you like to get dinner together later? Something casual? It would be nice to get to know each other.”

“I have more unpacking to do,” was what he said.

“Oh! Maybe a raincheck then?”

Nanami paused, just about to leave. “I will be quite busy at work. I don’t think dinner will work for me.”

Oh, was what you wanted to say. Instead, you smiled and said, “Okay, I understand.”

Okay, he had just dismissed you and completely turned down any prospect of grabbing food altogether. Okay, maybe he has a girlfriend, and he thought you were making a move on him. Okay, but two months into living with each other, this man surely has no girlfriend, with how he’s always at work and never has anyone over. 

The longer he’s lived here, the more he gives you the impression he does not want you here; that he does not want to speak to you. He’s never in the kitchen at the same time as you, unless you're heading to work at the same time. As a result of Nanami’s obvious discomfort, you have done him the favour of hiding. 

It has been dancing away from each other, weaving past one another in the hallway upstairs, and listening for your roommate’s footsteps for two sickly long months.

It has been a lonely two months. 

Now, for some reason, you want to keep the ball rolling. Maybe he isn’t so bad, especially if he was willing to check on the ghost on his own for your sake (supposedly). You fiddle with the handle of your mug.

“I don’t think I like ghosts,” you mumble. Oh, why did you have to say that?

Surprisingly, Nanami gives you a small smile, but there’s a hint of sadness behind his eyes. "I think there can be worse things than ghosts." 

His tone is light. Maybe this is going in the right direction?

"That's true," you admit. "But you can't fight a ghost."

This time, Nanami smiles wider. He offers you a laugh. It’s a bit magical. "Why would you need to fight a ghost?"

"To protect myself," you answer like it's the most obvious thing. Nanami scoffs with a small grin, like he was trying to stop himself.

"And what if it's a friendly ghost?"

"You don’t know if it’ll turn on you.”

Nanami suppresses his smile. “You are very funny, aren’t you?”

It’s your turn to grin big and wide. This is nice, you think. Maybe you shouldn’t have been avoiding him the entire time. 

“Have you had dinner?” you ask. 

Nanami blinks, then glances at the time. “I did, at 9:00.” He purses his lips. “I am hungry, but I have no food.”

You rise from your seat. “I can make us some quick ramen.”

Nanami waves his hands in protest. “There’s no need for that.”

A part of you wants to agree, to submit to his protests. Yet, you’re scared this will go away. He probably won’t talk to you again. 

Why are you so scared? Why do you want to talk to him so badly?

“I’d like to make you ramen as a thank you,” you insist. You’re sure to add an edge to your voice to make your words final. “Sit. Please.”

He’s probably tired. Why are you doing this? You’re just being annoying. You’re in his way.

Still, Nanami draws a kitchen chair back and sits down ungracefully. You don’t know him well, but that feels out of character for him.

As the stove top flickers on and you rummage for a small pot, you hear a sound come from Nanami, but you don’t quite catch it.

“Pardon?” you ask.

“Thank you,” Nanami mumbles a little louder this time. “Thank you.”

He has been so lonely, but you’re here now.

happy birthday, nanami! :) there will be another part to this

[byeolyeons]

the lovesick series | l.hc

pairing: lee haechan (nct) x gn! reader genre: domestic fluff, wc: ~2k summary: congrats! you and haechan have finally moved in together. unfortunately for him, he's got i-miss-you disease.

loving haechan is light. floorboards creaking in my home  deathly silence when alone  oh, i wish that you were here right now 

it had only been some hours since the early morning when you had left donghyuck's apartment, and yet when he pulls himself out of bed to brew a cup of coffee he finds the quiet thrum of traffic outside to be more unsettling than he expected. no sounds of that new anime you were keeping up with, no beeping of the kettle used to boil hot water for your tea, and no screaming at the game he had bought you just last week. 

he had finally given you a key and allowed you full access to his home, but the fuzzy feelings of sharing a living space for the first time were currently being overshadowed by your class and work schedules having you out most of the day. especially when his own schedule just wouldn't align, further complicating the matter. donghyuck moves to sit down on the couch, leaning forward to place his mug on the table in front of him. it's one you painted for him on an earlier date, covered in a soft yellow and adorned with a cute little bear. 

the wood of the floor groans under the weight of his left leg, the sound seeming louder than usual in the silence. he frowns. his place was by no means new, what with the student-on-a-budget deal, but it wasn't particularly worn down either. just another thing to add to the already long list of problems, donghyuck thinks. he'd definitely have to call it into the landlord later. 

pulling his phone from his pocket, donghyuck opts to scroll through his instagram feed. some stories in, one from you pops up. it's a video of him from last night, taken from behind on the very couch he's currently parked in. in it he can hear his own laughter, yelling at you due to the difficulty setting of the game being purposely cranked up so as to thwart him. there was an attempt, the caption reads, to which donghyuck chuckles. 

the coffee has long gone cold when he reaches for it again, the taste now unbearably bitter. donghyuck's expression furrows, and to some extent he can understand why you don't enjoy the pressed beans as much as he does. he sighs and his arm falls to his side. would anything not remind him of you right now? 

despite how much his heart yearns, begs him to dial the string of numbers now ingrained into the cells of his very fingertips, donghyuck is well aware that you probably wouldn't appreciate being called up in the middle of a lecture. so he resigns himself to tidying up around the room, taking care of the menial housekeeping tasks so you would at least have a clean space to return to. less mess, less stress. 

-

donghyuck curses himself when he wakes up from his post-cleaning nap to a few texts and a missed call from his beloved. 

4:37pm:

yo

what do u want from this place for dinner 

5:15pm:

hurry renjuns treating 

5:19pm

u suck

he shoots a quick message back, adding in a selfie of him still tucked into his sheets for good measure. if there's one thing you can't resist, it's when he softens himself for you. 

5:21pm

sorry my beloved i was napping 

donghyuck sighs and tosses the phone aside, getting up to start setting the table for your meal tonight. as he lays out the utensils, he finally hears the sound he's been waiting for all day. the pinlocks in the front door click, signalling your presence. the plates clatter from the abruptness of the silverware being dropped unceremoniously on top, the person having held them just seconds prior forgetting all about them. 

"i'm h—" you aren't even able to eke out the entire sentence before a large fuzzy bundle comes up and entirely envelopes you. the food nearly becomes the second victim of donghyuck's sudden assault. "careful of the bag!!" the bundle finally relents, head poking out of the blankets and looking at you with sparkling puppy dog eyes. 

"i missed you." it's a simple statement, and based on how it lacks his usual shit-eating grin you can tell he must've had a relatively uneventful day. so much for being off, i guess. unsure of how to respond right away you set the plastic bag to the side, the spot you can just barely reach on account of his tight grip, and quietly squeeze him back. the scent of his, no, your detergent now, is gentle on your nose. he smells like indubitably like home. 

"i missed you too. let's enjoy that-" you gesture at the sad little bag on the floor. "before it gets cold, yeah?" you can feel donghyuck nodding at your words by the way the fabric shifts against the side of your head, and he shuffles you both the few steps from your position so he can pick it up. seeing what's inside, he very visibly lights up. 

"this is... lowkey perfect for what i had in mind. wait here!" donghyuck breaks free from your hold, taking the initiative to whisk the food away. the blanket that enveloped you two gets tossed to the floor in front of the couch. you hear the chaos of him wrestling the cardboard take out boxes open, ceramic plate clinking, then the unmistakable beeps of the microwave before his head pops out from the kitchenette. "okay, come on in!" 

when you shuffle into the connected dining space, the first thing you notice is the lit candles that have been meticulously arranged on the table. they vary greatly in size, forming trios that frame a spaghetti filled dish in the center. two placemats and full cutlery sets sit side by side each other, testament to donghyuck's clinginess that had only gotten worse with your moving in. said donghyuck speeds over to a chair before you can even touch it, pulling it out for you to sit down. 

"m'lady." he teases, bunny teeth poking out in a smile. 

you laugh, slapping his shoulder. "thanks, milord." it's only after readjusting yourself in your seat that you notice a distinct lack of actual plates in front of you. there are only forks and knives, and a glasses for whatever drink you'll end up choosing. "hyuck," you call. "where are the plates?" 

turning your head, donghyuck is nowhere to be seen until suddenly he's making his way toward you from the living room hallway, playfully eyeing you up. when he had the time to move between the kitchenette and there, you have no clue. the smart bulbs dim, turning a warm yellowey-orange courtesy of the remote you know he's hiding in his pocket. "oh my, it seems i’ve broken them all. that's the last one we have… looks like we'll just have to share from that bowl!" 

sometimes, this man is just unbelievable. not wanting to ruin the little setup he has going on, however, you decide to play along and put a pout on your face. "damn... and i had so much fun picking them out when we went to ikea too. they were my favorite." knowing you, donghyuck is also well aware you're messing with him. but something about your faux sadness coupled with the way you look at him tugs at his heartstrings just the right way, and he can't help but cave. 

he pouts back. "is it so wrong to want to share a big ass bowl of pasta with my love, lady and the tramp style? wouldn't it be romantic to share a kiss over a noodle?" at the mention of the iconic scene he sighs dramatically, leaning against the table right next to you and draping the back of his hand over his forehead. you take his other hand in your own and lightly rub it with your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles and looking innocently up at him. 

"okay, okay, there's your kiss. can we eat now? i know you probably haven't had anything besides coffee, and i'm hungry too." your show of affection seems to have the intended effect, as donghyuck immediately shuts up and seats himself at your side, pulling the "big ass bowl" to an appropriate distance in front of you both. "jeno recommended this place, so renjun used a company card to cover everyone's orders." you explain.

on a bad day, donghyuck might’ve raised an inquiry about your coworkers. but this is no bad day, far from it, and he knows better than to doubt the relationships you have with his friends. 

after twirling some of the noodles onto the fork and putting a bite in your mouth, a hand flies up to your cheek. you emit a sigh, noises fully content from just how good the food is. at this point, the man next to you hasn't made any sort of effort to shovel the pasta down the hatch like he normally might have. he simply looks at you with an unreadable expression plastered across his face, elbow propped up on the table and head resting in his hand. "are you okay? here, have some." 

you take up another forkful and offer it to donghyuck's lips, but he doesn't accept it right away. "thank you for being here. with me." the change in his teasing attitude from earlier is unsettling, but not uncomfortable. 

"it's not like i have anywhere else to come home to, you know. i do live here too." you joke, but it isn't met with donghyuck's typical banter. turning to him, you awkwardly cough when you see him staring right into your very core. "hyuck, you're scaring—"

he cuts you off, blurting his next words out. "i mean it. thank you for everything." the hand that isn't keeping his chin up reaches up to gently brush the side of your face, holding it with a tenderness that makes you melt into his touch. his thumb rubs at your cheek. "for bringing me food all the time. for moving in with me. for making my life so much better. everything just feels right having you here." you return the loving smile he aims at you, like a weapon of mass destruction. he could so easily destroy you with it. 

"there's no one else i'd rather share that kind of life of with." 

bonus:

it seems like donghyuck's returned to his normal self following your heartfelt exchange, and the heavy atmosphere has all but lifted. 

"say ahh!" your silly hyuck carefully feeds you some of the spaghetti, one of the noodles slipping off the fork. while you try to reel the rogue in, he uses his thumb to wipe away the excess sauce that finds its way onto the corners of your mouth. you're still unsuccessful in nabbing the whole thing when he takes a bite himself. though you don't immediately pick up on it, donghyuck ends up facing the same problem as you. 

more silence pervades the room as you two go to work on the pasta, and after about half a minute you want to punch the man in front of you in the throat because there's no way in hell he didn't do this shit on purpose. a single strand of spaghetti currently connects your lips, just as donghyuck had insinuated minutes prior. he makes a muffled noise of disbelief, as if he's appalled you're blaming him, but he doesn't let go of the noodle.  

rather, he quickly chews it up, closing the distance between you and him and giving you a small peck. his attention then shifts back to the food as if nothing had happened. you can feel yourself heating up out of embarrassment, cheeks glowing.

"HYUCK!"

as always, thank you for reading !! likes are nice, but comments and fellow brainrotting are always welcome :>

[fae-cookie-run-madness]

So angst idea based off this post.

(Aka old man Dark Choco coming back and his father hasn’t age a day)

So the idea is that, what if children of Ancients, like Dark Choco and Royalberry are immortal like their parents.

However while an Ancient’s body and mind are made to survive being alive forever. Their children aren’t so lucky specially their minds.

As years pass and their dough doesn’t age, their mind loses spaces, they can’t remember everything so it slowly begins to rewrite over stuff. Royalberry who knows he lost his wife but can’t remember her voice; that he only knows what she looks like through the royal portrait, as she slowly gets older and he stays the same.

Dark Choco who goes out in the snow to live alone, eventually with no one around he forgets where he came from, his own name. He doesn’t go back to the citadel by choice, but mainly cause he was confused and lost. He doesn’t remember this man so why is his calling him ‘his son’.

….suffer with me…

[stonedtaemin]

there's only you

❕first time, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, pissing, cum eating | ao3 | wc 6k

mc has friends over and they notice how touchy caleb and her are *requested <𝟑

for a few weeks now she had been planning a girl's night sleepover in celebration of graduating high school. she needed to let loose somehow before the stress of her upcoming hunter career would kick in. that and she couldn't stop thinking about him. caleb, of course. it was always him, stuck in her brain amidst all of the other chaos.

caleb was still at the academy, in his last year. the d.a.a. had really taken over his life recently. everyday she longed to see him, to hold him. she would often find herself looking out into space at the house, forgetting about what grandma was saying to her. even her friends had to snap her back into reality at times.

except, last night caleb had visited in surprise, a goofy grin on his lips as she pulled him into a tight hug at the door. grandma barely got in her own hug that night. she was attached to him at the hip. time was no match for her when it came to him. it was like she could breathe again, live again. caleb was here. she could be at her happiest.

"i'm staying for good now. after graduation, that is."

now here he was, cooking his world-class famous chicken wings for her and her two friends. she stared at his broad shoulders as he moved to fry the chicken in the pan.

how often did he work out? how was he so big?

"hello? are you even listening?" her friend asked in annoyance. she looked back to her, an awkward smile plastered onto her face.

"yeah, sure. sorry." she sighed, body still rigid from her spacing out. she was practically drooling over the sight of him.

"you must have really missed him, huh?" her friend cocked an eyebrow.

caleb chuckled to himself. she didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking. she scoffed.

"yeah, for his cooking only. he's pretty much useless for anything else." she teased, tossing a piece of popcorn at his back from the bowl her and her friends were snacking from.

he shook his head with a sly smile, focusing back onto the task at hand.

"right. listen, i was trying to tell you about that new hunter firearm that they're coming out with."

"oh yeah, the new pistol right? i can't wait to be able to use it. seems pretty high tech." her eyes lit up with excitement as both of her friends rambled on about unicorns and all of the new advancements being made.

"yeah. they’re also opening recruitment soon. have you heard the results from your exam yet?" her other friend chimed in.

as they rambled on, the smell of chicken filled the air, all of their mouths watering from hunger. a soft hum of the tv came from the living room as grandma watched her favorite sitcom. all was well. this felt like home. her eyes couldn't help but linger back to caleb, whose gaze was also on hers. he was leaning with his back against the counter as he let the food cool off from the oil, arms crossed over his chest. her cheeks heated, eyes quickly diverting.

"okay. food's ready!" he clasped his hands together, sliding the plate full of chicken in front of everyone.

everybody shut up immediately, giddy with excitement and tongues darting out to wet their lips. caleb's food was a fan favorite amongst all of her friends.

"i swear, you could be a chef dude." one of her friends laughed, already digging in.

caleb came up from behind, hands grabbing onto her shoulders and thumbs stroking gently into a massage. she tried not to let her body tense, sloping into his touch.

"i know, pip-squeak won't let me live it down." he smiled, reaching over her, his scent making it's way into her nose. he smelled of seasoning and his usual cologne musk. his face was so close to hers, eyelashes long and fringe falling over his forehead perfectly. had his adam's apple always been this noticeable?

his eyes slid over to hers, then back to the chicken wing he had in his hand, placing it in front of her mouth.

"eat up." he spoke, his hand squeezing her shoulder harder.

it grounded her, and she bit down, slowly taking the piece of food from him.

he backed away, still standing behind her as he chatted casually with her friends. her heart raced faster than lightning. his hand still was touching her and it was all she could think about.

he was so much more grown up and... huge. caleb was huge. it was the only thing she could think of since he had stepped through the door last night.

he moved to sit down in the chair next to her. his chin rested onto his hand as he laughed about something. again, his hand snaked over to her thigh, squeezing softly then patting a few times. he repeated this as they ate.

it was actually so obvious that his hand was on her lap, her friends glancing over every now and then with a knowing look. sure, they had always known that her and caleb were close. they always hugged, pinched each other, other handsy stuff. but this? this was a little more intimate than usual. it was like they were invading privacy, like they were seeing something secret. it made her stomach flip. what was even happening right now?

after dinner, the girls gathered in her bedroom. the lights were off, save for their flashlights from their phones on as each of them tried to scare each other with stories.

"you know what's even scarier than a wanderer?" she asked, face pale with the outlines of her light shining onto her from the bottom of her chin.

her friends leaned in, giggles bubbling.

"one time when i was sleeping, the lights kept flickering in the hallway. it woke me up and i totally thought someone had broken in..." her friends kept coming closer, the tension palpable.

"i got up to go see what was going on, i felt crazy fluctuations. you know? when i got to my door, i heard someone walking around. like real slow and heavy. like straight out of a horror movie. then bam! i saw a shadow figure standing in the hallway." the girls jumped with fear, one softly yelping.

"when i rubbed my eyes, the figure was gone. the lights stopped. to this day i have no idea what happened. every time i wake up i get a little spooked by the thought of seeing it again." she concluded.

"oh my god! so you're haunted? why the fuck did you invite me over! you know i hate ghosts!" one girl screamed, smacking her with a pillow. the girls laughed, softly fighting each other.

the other one rolled her eyes playfully shoving her.

"are you sure it wasn't just caleb messing with you? guys are mean like that. they'll do anything to mess around with their siblings."

siblings.

the word rang in her head like a curse.

she scoffed.

"no way. caleb would never do something like that to me..." she crossed her arms.

"yeah right! brothers are the worst. mine used to always pick on me like that." the other girl nodded in agreement.

brother?

"well caleb isn't my brother... he's a really good friend. a friend that wouldn't do that. i feel like he would have admitted it by now." she mumbled, growing uncomfortable with the conversation. she rubbed her hand up and down her arm, picking at the fabric on her short sleeve shirt.

"right. speaking of, what's up with you two? that man looks at you like he wants to eat you."

her heart jumped into her throat. she let out a breathy laugh, turning off her flashlight.

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"holy shit! you're a terrible liar. i mean come on, he was touching all over you at dinner earlier."

"oh my god, yes! let's unpack that." her other friend nudged her elbow into her side.

she tossed herself onto the bed and buried herself into the pillow.

"no way. i don't want to even talk about this with you guys." the boundary had been set in stone.

her friends grunted in annoyance, going on and on about how they needed to know the deets. luckily they get distracted by each other's own boy drama, talking until they passed out. she had never been so relieved in her life. she sighed as she checked the time on her alarm clock, the numbers reading only half past midnight. her friends lightly snored in their sleep, arms and legs tangled across each other.

her phone buzzed softly on her chest, the light illuminating on her ceiling. she pulled it up, seeing caleb's name pop up.

you up?

she bit her lip, typing out her response.

yeaaa. can't sleep. u?

his typing bubble popped up fast.

nope :( whatcha doin?

she stared, not knowing what else to say. she threw a glance over to her friends, trying not to wake them up as she slowly pulled herself out of bed. they flinched but stayed dead asleep.

she rolled her knee high socks on, checking herself in the mirror before padding to his room. she had an old shirt of caleb's on, it being too big for her and falling over her shorts. she brushed her long hair with her fingers, then took a deep breath in. she would see him. she would confront him.

she closed the bedroom door softly, wincing as it creaked. she turned to walk down the hallway, headed for caleb's door. when she reached it the door was already slightly cracked, peaking in. he sat on top of his bed, still made up. he watched something on his phone, laughing softly. he was probably watching silly videos again. he was shirtless but had sweatpants on, one leg propped up.

she pushed aside her fears and let her hand knock quietly onto his door. she didn't even give him the chance to invite her in, seeing herself through. his eyes widened slightly in surprise, sitting up a bit more. she closed the door behind her, back resting onto the wooden frame.

"pip-squeak? you okay?" he asked, hands splayed behind himself. his phone was already put away. he was on alert.

she pushed herself off, walking closer to the end of his bed.

"mhmm. yeah. i guess i just wanted to see you."

he smiled at the corner of his lips, patting the spot next to him.

"you can always come see me."

"i know." she murmured, pausing on the end of the mattress. she trained her eyes on the dog tag that rested on his skin, his muscles defined by the soft glow of his dim night light.

he swallowed thickly, cocking an eyebrow.

"what're you thinkin' about?" he whispered.

"it's just... i really missed you. so much." she didn't even know if that was what she really wanted to say. she couldn't think straight. all she knew was that she wanted to figure something out.

"yeah, i missed you too. so much too." he responded, voice slow and like honey.

"also i wanted to say thank you. for cooking tonight, i mean." she jutted out, rubbing her arm out of nervous habit.

"of course, it's the least i could do." he responded sweetly.

they stayed like that for a second, just awkwardly staring at each other in the silence of his room. he cleared his throat.

"so, um. you sure you're okay?" he blurted out.

"yeah. i think... would you just. maybe, like. stay still." she crawled onto the mattress, coming in between his legs at a snails pace. her heart was racing.

he sat in shock and disbelief as she pinned herself against him, cheeks dusted with a dark rose. she was devastating to look at, beauty overwhelming. he was at her mercy.

"uh, sure. okay." his hands grabbed onto her arms as she closed in on him, as if he needed to make sure she was really there.

her face was so dangerously close to his, she could feel his breath fan across her skin. it sent goosebumps to her skin, fingers crawling up to trace his chin, then his jawline. she grazed him so softly that it was like a feather tickling him. he went completely still, eyes dark and trained onto her lips. he thought he might pass out, holding his breath.

"wanna try something." she breathed out, fingers finally trailing over his soft lips.

he was still as rock, in absolute zeal at what was happening. he let her explore as much as she wanted, letting her drink in his features. he couldn't help but let a small cocky smile bloom onto his face, eyes glossy.

"don't start something you can't finish, pips..." he purred, biting softly onto her index finger.

her breath stuttered against him, a soft moan falling out of her lips as his teeth puncture her skin. his cock twitched in his pants. his hands came up cradle her face, pulling it to his. at first their lips didn't move, just pressed together gently. it was like they were barely there.

"'s okay." he whispered against her lips, puckering a small peck onto them at first.

he nodded gently, like he was telling her to go on, to not be afraid. she moved slowly, a small sound of kissing forming. his lips kept up with hers, trying not to over power hers. he wanted her to lead, feel like she was in control of this. his thumb stroked her cheek softly in reassurance, feeling her skin boil under his touch. he want to melt into her and become a part of her. he would love nothing more.

"'leb..." his name was cut in half by the kiss deepening.

fuck, he had never heard his name come out of her mouth like that.

her chest pressed against his tightly, the air in his lungs escaping when he felt the plush of her breasts smoosh against his shirtless skin. oh he definitely was having a hard time not becoming handsy with her. and the way she looked in his old jersey... he was not going to be able to conceal the growing boner in his sweatpants for long. the tip was beginning to pitch a tent, and soon it would poke into her stomach.

they made out cautiously, no tongue yet. he wouldn't force himself into her mouth like that. she had to call the shots. she was taking her time getting used to the feeling of his lips slotted onto hers perfectly, the kiss growing faster with ferocity.

finally, her tongue swiped across his bottom lip, poking for entrance. he gladly opened his mouth for her to lick inside, his lips sucking harshly onto her wetness. he groaned against her, hands gripping onto her face like she were going to fly away if he let go. she rose onto her knees, hovering over him, his head bent all the way up. she wrapped her arms around his neck, body really pressing into him now. his hands traveled down from her face to her back, tugging her impossibly closer to him.

the sound of their sloppy kisses flooded the room, wet and filthy. he was surely dreaming.

when they pulled away finally for the first time, saliva trailed and dribbled down her chin, her eyes dark and glazed with lust. she had taken the leap and was falling.

"caleb, i..." she trailed off, eyes falling to the obvious boner that was pinned up against her leg.

she swallowed thickly, trying not to let her eyes widen at just how insanely huge his bulge was. heat pooled between her legs, thinking about how he would rip her open. she wanted that. she wanted to be dissected by caleb's monster cock. she groaned, embarrassment overriding her thoughts. what the fuck was happening right now? how the hell did she even get here? was she crazy?

"sorry pips... just making me so hard right now. are ya upset?" he shyly admitted, a boyish smile forming on his swollen lips.

"... no." she sighed, biting her lip.

"mhmm. that’s good. wanna touch it?" he offered quietly, bucking his hips slightly.

she felt like she was shaking with both excitement and embarrassment. sure, she had seen a penis before, but never had she touched one. plenty of opportunities arose, many guys at school wanting to hit that. but deep down she guessed she always wanted caleb. somewhere in her subconscious she had saved herself for him.

"i don't know... how." her inexperience was tough to admit.

he gave her a small kiss onto her lips again, stroking her cheek in reassurance.

"s'okay sweet girl. i'll show you." he hummed, hand grabbing onto hers.

she nodded slowly, eyes locking onto his. he guided her hand down to his lap between them, helping her truly feel the length of himself through the grey fabric. he was so incredibly hard, she was shocked at just how rigid it felt.

"tell me if you want me to stop at any point." he whispered, letting her explore the feeling of him.

when she was done, he hooked her fingers onto the waistband of his pants, nodding for her to go on. he lifted himself up a bit so she could pull them down past his butt, his cock springing free of it's constraints. it smacked his abdomen, pre-cum spilling out with a fever. he had never been so hard in his life.

"jesus, caleb." she gasped, chest rising and falling with heavy breathing as she took in just how insanely huge he was. she was right in assuming that he had been big everywhere.

he huffed out a laugh, trying not to become a panting mess by just having her look at his naked cock. he would try to compose himself, but he sure was having a hard time with it.

"you like it?" he gritted out, grabbing the base of his length and wiggling it around for show.

if she wasn't dead of anxiety before then she certainly was now. she didn't even know what to say to him showing off like this, being so bold and unashamed.

"y-yes." she managed to blurt out, fingers twitching onto his leg.

"c'mon and touch it baby." his voice came out like velvet, her new nickname searing into her ears. she wouldn't make it out alive tonight.

her hand slowly crept forward, gripping onto the base softly. he let out a moan, pinching his eyebrows together. holy fuck, here she was, touching his cock. only in his dreams did he imagine this happening. but this was fucking real.

"okay, now i want you to spit on it. can you do that?" he asked gently.

she nodded, hovering over his cock. she dribbled out saliva, letting it fall onto his tip.

"more." he commanded.

she blinked, letting more slobber spill out. it glazed around him, falling down to her hand that rested politely on his member.

"now stroke." he purred, hands coming to sweep her hair behind her neck.

she nodded in obedience, her hand starting to move up and down languidly. she had watched enough porn videos to understand that there was a bit of a technique to jerking someone off, but still she knew that she would need to find her own rhythm. she twisted her hand up and down, the slick of her spit lubing him up just right.

"mhmm fuck, you can squeeze harder. y-yeah, shit, just like that." his hips rutted up to meet her strokes, eyes piercing hers and mouth slightly agape.

"am i doing this okay?" her voice was shaking.

"yeah, you're perfect. keep going, you're so good. uh-huh. you can grab my balls too, with your other hand. yeah. massage it, like this." he guided her, performing it on himself to help her.

she replicated his movements, a long groan falling out his lips.

she worked overtime onto him, getting the hang of it. her stroking got faster and more confident, squeezing him hard onto his shaft. he panted in her grasp, knowing he wouldn't be able to last.

"stop." he barked out suddenly, freezing her hands with his evol.

her heart slammed, looking up at him in worry.

"i'm sorry! did i do something wr—"

"no, fuck no. you're too good at it. gonna cum too quick." he was trying to catch his breath.

she was taken aback by how vocal he was with her, appreciating how honest he was being. it made her blush more than she thought was humanly possible.

"can i touch you, pip-squeak?" he asked.

she nodded frantically, groaning in need.

"please caleb, i-i can't... i need this. need you." she whined, his hand cupping her cheek. she nuzzled herself into his hand, nose rubbing up and down. she mouthed at his palm, kissing it with a desperation. she decided she was too horny now to hide herself. he moaned at her neediness, pulling her into a sloppy kiss.

"fuck, you're gonna drive me insane." he growled against her lips, pulling her on top of him as they swallowed each other.

his hands immediately went to grope at her breasts, kneading them through her shirt. he almost choked on his own spit when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra, her boobs fitting snuggly into his large palms. he groaned with arousal, pinching her nipples. she yelped into his mouth, hips stirring against his hard on. he pulled away from the kiss to rip her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side once it was off. he stared at the beautiful nakedness in front of him, whimpering at how perfect her tits were. they were so perky right now, begging to be mouthed at.

she threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling him down herself to her breasts, letting a sigh of relief out as he finally licked at her nipples. he sucked and bit at them, slobbering all over her like he was a dog in heat. he hummed against her skin, licking in between the valley of her breasts then taking care of the other one. hickeys blossomed on her skin as he did his damage onto her chest.

"caleb, shit... feels so good!" she cried into the crown of his head. she was sat on top of his lap, soaking through her panties. she needed to be out of these shorts asap.

he began to push her tits together and ate at both simultaneously, shaking his head feverishly to the point where his tongue was wagging with hunger. he wasn't quiet about it either. he groped and squeezed, red imprints staining her skin. he pulled off with a muah, breath panting onto her swollen skin.

"yeah, wanna make you feel good so bad. please let me touch you, wanna feel how wet you are, baby please. can i? you'll let me, right?" he begged, hands still massaging her breasts.

she nodded fast, kissing him again, then pulling away. she moved to the end of the bed so her legs were all the way out, pawing at her shorts clumsily, yanking them down and off of her like they were on fire. she tossed them to the side, underwear going with it. it felt surreal to be naked on caleb's bed, having sat on it many times. the feeling of his linen duvet cover sat on her skin with a foreign excitement, the coolness of it sending goosebumps onto her skin.

caleb let out an animalistic noise, hands gripping her ankles and massaging the bone. he didn't even know where to start. his eyes lingered on her vagina, drinking in every detail. he pulled her closer, forcing her legs open more so he could see further into her.

she blushed fiercely, whimpering under his gaze. she was so vulnerable, she could pass out. he wasn't even hiding his shameless gaze onto her.

his fingers grazed over her folds, pushing it open. he spread her, displaying her glistening cunt. she was so absolutely wet, pretty and pink right in front of him. just begging to be fucked. his index finger prodded, poking inside of her jelly walls. his eyes flickered up to hers, checking for any signs of hesitation. he wasn't prepared for the absolute wreck of a state she was in, her eyes a shade of darkness he had never seen before. she was drunk off of his touch, face contorted with pleasure. her mouth fell slack, a small moan rippling out of her.

"so fucking wet, dripping all over my bed, pips. dirty little girl." he groaned, curling his finger in and out of her. he added another finger, earning a string of moans in return.

she circled her hips to his movement, hips basically hovering off the bed with urgency.

"mhmm, caleb, feels— so— g-good. i love it!" she cried out, throwing her head back.

his thumb circled onto her clit slowly while his fingers pumped in and out, scissoring her open slowly. she was so insanely tight, even around his fingers.

"yeah? you enjoy it when i finger you while you're friends are in the next room over? jesus you're so sexy." his other hand went up to slap her tit, then groped it to knead it in his hand, growling.

"y-yes! love it so much, caleb!" she was so desperate.

"who knew you could be such a slut, hm?" his voice flooded her eardrums like water, the room starting to feel stuffy with their heat.

she fucked herself onto his fingers, legs starting to burn from holding herself up. sweat began to bead at her forehead, arms feeling heavy as she angled herself. she watched her body in awe as it worked itself onto him, knee high socks starting to fall a little bit down her legs.

"please fuck me, please caleb." she begged, eyebrows bowing in plea.

he cried out a pathetic whine, fingers faltering inside of her.

"well, when you ask so nicely..." he sighed with elation.

he flipped them over so that she was laying on her back, relieving her from her tiring position. his fingers still moved inside of her, thumb working overtime on her clit. her hand gripped onto his wrist, making him abruptly stop.

"gonna cum if you k-keep going!" she hissed out.

he chuckled softly, kissing the bridge of her nose.

"yeah... s'kinda the point, pips." he grinned.

she rolled her eyes. even now he knew how to press her buttons. some things never changed, no matter the situation.

"i can't... not yet. wanna cum on your cock." she whispered sheepishly, cheeks flushing.

he audibly gagged, clearing his throat to play it off. now who was the one laughing?

"jesus fuck. o-okay. yeah, i can do that. like shit." he rambled, fingers retracting from her. she bucked up at the loss, but knew something bigger was coming. bigger. seriously, bigger.

he hovered over her like a giant, necklace dangling onto her. he lined his cock up with her entrance, tip prodding at her. he spread her legs open more, entering slowly. it felt like his tip was being seared off by just how fucking tight she was. his lungs felt like they were full of fluid, struggling to breathe.

"relax, pips." he cooed, pushing further in.

"i'm try— fuck— trying!" she nagged, huffing in slight annoyance.

"try harder, ah fuck, shit..." he bit her shoulder hard, then kitten licked onto it, up to her neck. he made out with her skin as he was sucked into her.

"i'm going to cut your dick off." she groaned, legs pulling him in and pushing him all the way in in impatience.

they both moaned in unison, her nails digging into his back.

"hah, shit! th-that's— fine... you can keep it. fucking yours. take it." he bit out, leaning back up. his hair fell over his forehead, eyes trained onto their connection to fathom the reality that was taking place.

he was inside her. having sex with her. this shit couldn't be real.

"a-ah shit! oh my god. you're so fucking big. h-how are you so fucking big? caleb!" she yelped out, feeling him move inside her.

he wanted to laugh but couldn't, he felt his whole world being rattled. he felt so good inside of her, he didn't even know his right from left. all he knew was that he never wanted to leave. he could fuck her for the rest of his life and it would be worth every second.

"you're so nice and warm for me. feel so good around me. you feel that?" he whimpered, hips smacking and balls hitting her with obnoxious plap sounds.

she nodded her head over and over, continuously moaning into his shoulder as he pounded into her. she kissed his collar bone softly, feeling him push her legs up more. his cock was grazing her cervix with this new angle, her head falling back in ecstasy. she glanced down onto her stomach, seeing his cock bulge into her lower abdomen as he fucked her. she gasped, hand smacking over her mouth. oh, she was so incredibly fucked. he looked down to see what she was reacting to, a growl tearing through his chest. immediately his pace picked up, ramming her like tonight was his last day on earth.

"caleb, caleb, caleb, yes, yes, yes, right there— oh!" she chanted, mouth slack open with drool falling onto her chest.

he was so close he could taste, watching as his cock tore into her.

"fucking the shit out of you, look at that. god i'm gonna fucking cum you little whore. you want my cum? say you want my cum." he word vomited whatever he could muster up, pleasure coursing through his veins. it was the fiber of his being at that moment.

"yes, caleb, please give me your cum, please— hah shit! god, need your cum so fucking bad!" her voice was so high in pitch it was like another person, whines interlacing between words.

his thumb circled her clit as his orgasm neared, eyes watching locking with hers as he moaned with her. his eyebrows bowed as he watched her writhe under him, face twisting with climax.

"gonna cum with me, sweet girl? gonna cum on this big cock for me?" his free hand went to grab her face, squeezing it hard as she whimpered.

"yes... m'cumming caleb, cumming right now, oh fuck!" her voice cut off by a noise of something he had never heard from her. she creaked out a bunch of jumbled words, none of them any language he knew.

"shit, pips, whole house is gonna know how much a slut you are for my dick..."

she cried out so loud his heart rammed against his ribcage, excited from the fear of getting caught. his headboard banged against the wall from each thrust, the mattress springs creaking from exhaustion.

"ngh— fuck!— cumming again, oooh shit... hah!" she glanced down at his thumb rubbing against him, butterflies hitting her. he looked so good like this, touching her in places he never had before. the sight alone was enough to set her off on her second orgasm of the night.

"yes, you good fucking girl. c-cumming with you baby, fuuuck..." his cock spasmed inside of her walls, grunting with each final slam inside of her.

his thrusts came to a slow as he got back up, letting his dick slide out of her. she whined as he pulled out, expelling the cum and letting it drip down her crack. he smacked his dick onto her folds, tapping it against their juices. she cried out, hips meeting each slap.

"you like that?" he purred.

"mhmm." she hummed, fingers lacing with his.

"i fucking love that." he responded, sounding drunk.

he crawled in between her legs, head dipping into her crotch, nosing at her pussy.

she gasped, hands gripping into his hair tightly. he groaned at her pulling, humming against her sex.

"wanna taste us." he licked a large stripe onto her, lapping up their cum.

he was so loud and unapologetic, slurping her up like he hadn't drank for forty days and forty nights. she whined long and nasally, slamming his head further into her crotch. he didn't care, he didn't even want to breathe. he wanted to suffocate on her. he gripped her legs and forced them to squeeze his head. she complied, ankles wrapping together as her feet rested on his meaty back.

"fuck caleb— i can't, i can't, baby, please!" she choked out.

"yes you can. baby, please, i know you can. can cum again, baby." he begged against her.

she shook her head violently in protest, free hand gripping the sheets. her knuckles turned white as she shook with another orgasm, feeling herself about to piss.

"oh my god caleb, fuck, i think i'm g-gonna— piss— please stop!" she begged, tears welling up in her eyes with embarrassment.

he didn't listen to her, still making out with her cunt. he smirked against her folds, fingers going in to scissor her as she felt herself climax.

"you fucker— i'm gonna— oh god!" she screamed, a long stream of piss squirting out, spraying all over his mouth and face.

the warm liquid splashed against his tongue, his moans encompassing her. he kept his tongue stuck out, letting each drop onto it. she whined and whined, whole body shuddering as it released everything at once onto his face.

"nasty little thing, so fucking sexy like this." he muffled as she came to a stop, piss and cum dribbling down onto the sheets.

"oh my god." she sighed, chest rising and falling with an exhaustion she had never felt before in her life.

he kissed her cunt one more time before crawling back up to her. he kissed her neck slowly and sloppily, hands sliding up her body.

"could make you do that for hours." he murmured against her skin, smiling with his teeth.

"jesus caleb, you're actually such a pervert." she said, eyes finding his as he pulled up.

"mhmm. that's what happens when you come into my room in my shirt and some knee high socks. get fucked like a slut." he laughed.

she choked slightly, coughing. caleb was like a completely different beast when he was horny.

"caleb..."

"nuh uh. don't ruin this yet." he sighed, head falling onto her breasts, softly kissing onto them. he cuddled up next to her, pressing firmly into her side.

"i wasn't going to ruin anything!" she whined.

"you so were. probably gonna talk about how we shoulda never done this or something stupid." he stated matter-of-factly.

she pinched his arm, a small ouch following.

"actually no, i was going to tell you that we need to change the sheets." she looked down onto him, hand petting his hair softly.

he craned his neck upwards to look at her, eyebrows raising.

"or we could just keep getting it more dirty until we really need to change them."

"ugh, god. horny bastard." she rolled her eyes, trying to keep a straight face. it was of no use, both of them falling into a fit of laughter.

his arm hooked around her waist, tugging her into him tightly.

"mhmm. let's just stay like this for a while." he whispered, kissing her breast again.

she breathed shakily, fingers resuming their petting.

"tell me you won't regret this tomorrow." her voice was just above a whisper.

he squeezed her, taking a deep breath.

"absolutely not. you're gonna be trapped in here every night now. hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."

she definitely didn't, but that was okay. she wanted to find out. her heartbeat skipped, the corner of her lips twitching.

what she really wasn't prepared for was the next morning and having to explain her friends why she wasn't in the same room as them when they woke up. or whatever those really suspicious banging noises were that they swore the heard during the night…

[towasdandelion]

Hiiiiiii

can you make Mc recives/Mc sends (Doesnt matter wich one) a message that "I miss you" From their ex/to their ex (Ex's are Sinostra and Vagastrom 👉👈) simply they want her back

Okay (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) I'm fine I'm totally fine (screams into the void) Hii! Been a while since I wrote something a bit more angsty. I wanted this to have fluff at the end but ultimately changed my mind, telling myself it's okay to write angst without a definite ending ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ so you can imagine if you did accept them back or not! I hope you like ittt

When you get a "I miss you" text from your ex - Sinostra and Vagastrom

I think Ritsu will be very honest and straightforward (well, almost) with you and himself, especially after break up. He analyzes everything that happened, and realizes he simply misses you. And he has to admit, your presence and partnership is something he heavily relied on. Something he just can't live without anymore. He needs you. He's not going overthink this and just simply decides ro text you. Yes, he fears your rejection. But there's only one thing worse than that. The unknown. And he can't stand that. He will wait patiently for your answer, giving you all the space that you need.

Romeo might be in denial at first, simply calling the ache in his chest "frustration". But when he realizes that there is nothing that can soothe it aside from the thought of having you back in his life - he knows he's screwed. He misses you. He misses you a lot. And as prideful as he is, he still decides to let you know how he feels. It's your fault after all, you still have his heart! He's going to be surprisingly calm, (yes, that's calm for him) but grows frustrated when you act surprised. Did he really not show you enough appreciation before? Well if you do decide to try again, he'll make sure to work on that.

Taiga is a simple man. Well, sometimes. And this is one of the instances. He's not going to think too much. In fact he's not going to think at all, deciding to text you as soon as the thought of you pops up in his mind. He doesn't exactly understand why he can't, but he's not able to forget you no matter what he does.. And it pisses him off so bad because he always thought he's stronger than that. Well he's not, and he needs you back in his life. He's rather impatient though. He wants to feel the warmth of your presence again. If you don't want him to show up unannounced then don't take too long with your answer. Sorry.

Leo is spiraling so bad. He starts to overthink everything. He's so deep in denial, deep to the point where it keeps him up at night. He can't stand it. He hates to admit that he still misses you. Why can't he just get over you? What's so special about you that makes it so hard to let go? He knows exactly what, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. But one night it just gets too much and he finally sends his text. He feels pathetic for having to bare his feelings like that but he knows you can't just read his mind, even if it's something he would prefer just this once. Words don't come easy to him. Just accept him back already, would you? You can't possibly reject him?

Sho is very mature about this. There wasn't a single day where he wouldn't think about your relationship. About the days where both of you were smiling cheerfully. Damn, he misses that. He's going to think before he acts though. He should probably leave you alone.. but as much as he wants to, he can't. In the end he sends his message, hoping for at least one word from you. It's so hard for him to stop himself from saying more. There's so much on his mind, so many things he wants to say. But the most important one he has to let you know about is that he really wants you two to try again. It's entirely up to you though, he won't push too much. All he needs is a small promise that you will actually consider this...

Alan is getting desperate. He only has himself to blame for falling for you so hard that he can't let go. Not even after some time. Your presence in his life changed everything for the better. And he craves you, craves that warmth once again. He mentally berates himself after sending his text. Just what is he doing? He should respect this distance, he should let you go. But no matter how much he tries, he finds it impossible. It's not like him but once he gets one reply from you, the words are just going to keep coming. He can't stop them. He feels terrible for dumping this on you but at the same time he's silently hoping he will be able to make you see just how much he loves you.

[jules2kewl]

A different path.

COWBOY SEVIKA AU.

Tags: sevika works in a ranch, reader is married, artist reader, sevika and reader are neighbors, eventual smut, sevika cowboy au, chubby reader, sevika x female reader.

Word count: 9k but it lowkey feels less.

Part: 1/?

Note: I put a lot of effort into this lwkkk. I really hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Growing up, you were convinced that art was your future. It was what you were born to do. To create. To show your passion to the world.

Here you are, in a beat up pick up truck, with your now husband.

—

Flashback.

You met him in college. He was a frat boy.

“So.. what’s your major?”

You ask, smiling while tracing the rim of the red cup.

“Uhhh.. don’t remember. I’m not really here for like.. the education. Kinda here for the experience you know? This is the fucking life.”

Maybe there, you should ended it. You should’ve dodged the bullet. But you after a couple social pressure from the people around you, and other students degrading your major, here you are. Married away to a southern boy. On your way to the south. You grew up in a sort of suburb city place. It was in between the south and north, so you somewhat understood some culture.

But forgetting your dreams were extremely hard. But hey, you chose this life. No point in complaining.

—

“Whyd you want to bring all these dumbass paintings? They take up half the fucking space.”

He tosses the canvases to the ground, you wince and rush to them.

“They’re special to me,”

You mutter. As if you were embarrassed to say so.

You both unpack, the place was.. okay. It was spacious, and vintage looking. But not exactly the pretty type. Just old. You both moved down here because he took the offer of working with his other family in the ranch. Apparently they were all red necks, which made you.. scared.

“We’re gonna go down to my grandmas place. Dress nice.”

He says, plainly. You go to your luggage and take out your favorite outfit. You wore it throughout college. Fun.

“Hell are ye wearin’?”

He scoffed.

“Clothes,”

You tease, smiling. Except he didn’t smile. Just looking up and down, judging. Quickly erasing your smile.

“Go wear a dress or somethin’,”

He pauses.

“Look pretty for me.”

You listen. You obey. Changing into a dress. You hated how it looked, you looked like a house wife. And slowly, you’d probably become one.

When you meet his other family, they give snarky comments.

“You majored in art?”

The two girls look at eachother, smiling. Trying to hold back giggles.

“No! We think it’s like— cute. Atleast you chose a better path in the end.”

Bye the end of it, you wanted to cry. But ..

“What’s for dinner, hm?”

He clings onto you from behind, as you try to finish unpacking clothes.

“Dinner? We haven’t even filled up the fridge,”

You frown slightly. He groans.

“Seriously? What’re we gonna eat?”

He complains, pulling away.

“I don’t know.. order something or whatever.”

Pause.

He laughs loudly.

“Oh okay, I’ll just ORDER something in the middle of no where. I seriously forget yer fuckin’ spoiled.”

He pinched your ass and laughs again.

“Make something, I’ll be back. Headin’ down to meet some old friends.”

He gives it a slap and leaves. You stare out the window. You weren’t the best at cooking. Maybe you were spoiled. So you should get to work.

2 weeks later. You start getting better.. at whatever this was.

Packing his food, making the bed, cleaning the house, planning dinner and.. doing nothing, all at once.

When you finish, you stare out the window. Why did you pick this? No, it’s okay. You had to settle down. Art wasn’t going to take you anywhere. It was stupid. You chose this. Live with it.

You convinced yourself.

Flashback.

You both lay on a roof, he smokes while you ramble on about a book you read for art literature. You had to write an essay about it.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

He lifts the cigar from his lips.

“Yeah?” You say eagerly, expecting it to be about the book.

“Why do girls think.. they can do something? Like, chose an art major. It’s kinda stupid,”

He laughs hoarsely.

“It’s not really gonna get you somewhere. I have a little sister, she did art. Now shes a waitress,”

You go quiet.

That week, you kept thinking. Everyone told you that. Even some of your other college friends. Was it worth it? It was so expensive, and burdening your mom…

This was the right choice. He’ll keep you under a roof. Protect you. Provide for you. It’s okay.

You see a red pick up truck pass your house, and you see it drive to your neighbors house. You didn’t realize you even had one. You stand up eagerly, but anxiety creeps up on you.

What, were you going to go introduce yourself or something? That’s stupid. Only a thing movie people do.. but you haven’t talked to someone since you moved here.. maybe it’d be nice if—

Your thoughts are cut short when you see them.

Tall, strong frame, short hair. You see their back. Is that a girl? You try moving to see them better. It was a girl!

You squeal, then clap your hand to your mouth. Why’d you do that? Whatever! It’s a girl! She could be your friend.

Later. You cute a slice from your lasagna. Lasagna was your comfort food. So you made it. You start worrying if it was good enough to offer it to people. Whatever, go and do it.

You walk down to her house. Standing there and taking deep breaths, before knocking.

You wait, sweat staring to bead on your forehead.

After a hot minute, you wonder if she didn’t want to answer. You decide to leave the plate, before she opens.

“Hello?”

She’s bigger than from afar. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Shit, what do you say now?

“Uh— hhh…”

You try finding it.

“Hi. I’m.. your new neighbor.”

You put your hand out after saying your name. Mentally slapping the shit out of yourself. She probably wants to be left alone. This was stupid. Do people in the south even say hi to neighbors? God!

She smiles.

“Why hello. It’s sevika. You moved in with your husband eh?”

She tilts her head. Shaking your hand. Her hand was heavy and rough. It scared you a little.

“Uhm, yeah. That’s right.”

“You wanna come in?”

You smile, but try not to smile too hard.

“If that’s not a bother,”

“Oh no, never. Come on in.”

You go in, looking around. Leather couches, small little paintings, wooden carvings and taxidermy’s everywhere. This was so fucking southern. You loved it.

“It’s nice in here.”

You smile. Feeling relived to finally talk to someone.

“Thanks sweetie. Take a seat. You want somethin’? Water, tea, maybe a beer?”

She smiles. You see her tooth gap. How adorable!

“I’m okay, but thank you.”

You smile. It reeked like cigarettes and something else strong. It hurt your head, but it shouldn’t matter.

“Why’d you move down here? You don’t look like the rest of us.”

You tilt your head.

“What do you mean?”

She leans against her counter, picking up her cigarette from the tray.

“Look at the way you’re dressed.”

You look down. You just wore a t shirt and random shorts. You didn’t see anything wrong. Then you see one of your tattoos, your expressive jewelry and your shoes. Well, maybe something gave it out? You’re not sure.

“Uhm, my husband and me moved down here.”

She takes a hit and blows out through her nostrils.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You pause.

“For his work. He works at the ranch.”

She looks at you.

“You mean the frat kid?”

You perk up. Frat? How did she know he was a frat boy?

“How did—“

“He acts like one. I just guessed. Always wanting to invite everyone for a drink after work. Doesn’t take it seriously,”

She puts the cigar down.

“So you work there?”

She nods.

“That would’ve surprised him,”

You smile. But she doesn’t. Giving you a slight judging look. You get hot and your smile goes away. Did she not like you?

“It did. He didn’t expect a woman to work there. But here I am.”

You tap your knee nervously. Not knowing what to say.

“What did you do? Before you became his house wife.”

“Oh no— I’m not his house wife.”

You smile and laugh.

“Really? You don’t leave the house do you?”

Your smile fades again. Did she hate you or something?

“I do.”

You lie. She chuckles.

“Yeah? When?”

You start thinking of a lie, but she chuckles again.

“It’s alright sweetie, I’m just askin’. Don’t worry your little head about it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t think you were holding in.

“I did art. Painted, wrote, all of that.. stuff.”

You start reminiscing. All the beautiful art work you did. Now hidden in the dusty attic.

“Did? You stopped?”

She picks up her cigar, tapping the ash off.

You shrug.

“Is that a yes or no?”

You look up at her.

“I guess I stopped. I don’t have the material anymore.”

There’s a long pause. It feels awkward, for you atleast. She didn’t seem bothered by it.

The lasagna in your lap felt stupid.

“What’s that?”

She points at it.

“Lasagna. I kinda brought it for you but..”

“But what?”

She smiles.

“I don’t think you want it.”

“What? Hey. Give it to me. I could never give up free food.”

You stand up and pass her the plate.

“I’ll eat it later.”

Pause. Again.

You look out the window.

“Uhm, thanks.”

She chuckles.

“For what?”

“Talking to me? Inviting me in.. thanks. I’m going to head home. Maybe I can talk to you another day?”

She nods.

You walk home. It felt good to talk to someone, although it felt like she judged you most of the time. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe you two could become close.

Thanks for reading luv. 💋

[versesbyaaliyah]

Visitor

Written by Aaliyah O'Neil

This poem was inspired by the prompt 'Void,' provided by @cherrypicked-insanity and hosted by @picklemafia.

The void is the quiet room we enter when we

sleep—

a place without walls,

where time forgets how to measure itself

and memory slips loose, like a fraying thread.

We are visitors there,

not residents,

passing through corridors made of fragments—

half-remembered faces,

forgotten songs,

whispers folded inside a breath.

This void is not empty,

but a gathering of echoes from lives never fully

lived,

a marketplace of moments that never quite

arrived,

where souls drift softly,

waiting for the next door to open.

In that space, death is not an ending,

but the longest sleep,

the final return ticket—

the moment when the visitor stops pacing,

lays down their suitcase,

and finally becomes the place they wandered

through.

Dreams are postcards sent from the void—

glimpses of a home we’ve never truly left,

where time unwinds

and we are strangers tracing our own shadows

in a landscape built of possibility and silence.

When we awake,

we leave the void behind,

closing its door quietly so it can dream of us in

return,

waiting patiently

for the day when the visitor no longer departs.

© Aaliyah O'Neil 2025. All rights reserved.

These original poems and content are my creative work and are protected by copyright. Please do not reproduce, share, or use them without my permission.

[bebeluss]

The more I read this, the more embarrassed I am that you guys keep on liking it and reblogging. I mean, thanks you're all so nice but also, maybe to add a little (because seriously the more I read it, the more I think some points might be missing), so:

1) first of all, when I kept on saying that people go hard defending "fictional shit" yet here I am defending fictional stuff too... Well, what I meant is that people really go SO hard defending the indefensible and it honestly worries me. It worries me that you people behave like that in real life. I'm talking to the John Walker, Alexei crowd. Especially the John Walker crowd because how can you watch tfatws and go so hard "defending" him and how can you go so hard for him to the point of dragging Sam? Listen, nobody's perfect, not even fictional characters but I swear to God, I can't think on a single bad action Sam has done. Nothing, nada. So the fact that you drag Sam in order to defend John Walker is so questionable to me. Are you aware that you can like villains/questionable characters and that's ok, right? All stories need villains/these questionable characters so they'll always be there but what happened to just like a character and accept that their actions are in fact wrong or that they were wrong and there haven't been efforts to mend those wringings? I haven't seen a single acknowledgement from him for what he did to Sam (and even Bucky... You "winteragent" people are.. weird 😶). If you like John Walker, that's fine! But don't justify his shitty behavior, just enjoy him being shitty as he is. And actually this goes for all the characters. I, as a Bucky Stan, know that Bucky has been wrong so many times. He was wrong in tfatws with his obsession with that fuckass shield, he was wrong at the end in thunderbolts and that's ok to accept because that's real life too, people fuck up, you don't need to make excuses for these characters. They dont have to be perfect for you to like them. And it's so weird that many people use "trauma" as a justification because that's not it. As someone with mental illness, I can tell you that having bad mental health explains shitty behaviors but it doesn't justify them. (And btw I am not comparing Bucky and John because Bucky never killed anyone just because he lost it like John did. I'm just saying that if me, being a Bucky Stan can accept that he's fucked up, then you can do it too. 🤷🏽‍♀️).

I also believe that these characters can do better, there's this line of Sam that I truly adore: "The only power I have is that I believe we can do better" because yes, we all can do better but we need do to the work to be better and John Walker hasn't done shit to be better yet he has so many defenders only because he's a white dude and a super soldier and to many racists that automatically makes him "better" than Sam (no). It doesn't matter that he killed innocent people, it doesn't matter that he's a shitty ass dad and husband... No, the dude is white and a super soldier so that's enough and it's so frustrating to witness. 🫩 So yes, I won't go too hard defending fiction because listen, I'm already a Queer brown woman living in a dangerous environment so I have enough shit with myself but I'll keep on calling out racism on social media because that's a pretty real issue (I know I said I don't say shit here but if you knew the amount of insta and TikTok accounts I've lost for calling out racism in fandom 🫩 it's exhausting). Do you know how exhausting it is, as a Queer, as a bipoc and as a woman, to come online to try and forget our real life shitty situations only to encounter racist people and sexist people online? And believe me, I block a lot of people, I block left and right but it's never enough. And a big part of that problem is the people riding behind fictional characters like John Walker... You people need to stop making fandom spaces dangerous for minorities.

Now when I said that Bucky is a hero and blabla, I know it seemed so random lol but I said it because the same person who told me the thing about sambucky's shippers wanting Bucky to be Sam's "lapdog" told me that I was "jealous" because Bucky can "finally be a hero with thunderbolts"... Like... Even if Bucky had stayed dead since the 40s, even like that, he'd have been a hero because as I said, he was fighting Nazis before most of the avengers were born. And he was a hero fighting in wakanda and he was a hero fighting alongside Sam in tfatws. He is a hero and he doesn't need of a bunch of criminals to be one. And if you think he does, well.. don't call yourself a Bucky Stan because you clearly don't know the character you Stan and you clearly hate him somehow (same goes for the ones who ship him with his abusers or with Zemo).

And I think that was all I wanted to "clear up" 😅

And remember to keep Sam Wilson's name out of your mouth, especially if you're a thunderbolts stan because believe me bae, they'll be following Sam's orders soon and you'll be foaming from your mouths but that's on you and your racism, not on Sam 🫶🏽❤️ (like why wouldn't you want your fav to follow sam's leadership?? Again, I cannot think on a single bad thing he's done 😭 so yes, as a Bucky stan I hope he's still following Sam's leadership, that doesn't make him less of a hero and that doesn't make him a "lapdog", that only makes him a loyal character, which he's always been -fuck you Joana calo fr-, anyway!)

Oh and also!!! So many Bucky stans get mad at him being "sidelined" and listen... I got kinda mad at his screen time in thunderbolts because they sold us the movie with the slogan "now with more Bucky" and it turns out that he only had 8 minutes of screen time... The same as in the first avenger so yeah I thought that was stupid BUT his presence wasn't necessary in the movie at all, it literally could've been any other character and even tho I loved how he looked and some things... It could've been anyone, really. That said, Bucky Barnes is a supporting character and THAT'S FINE!!! All stories need all kind of characters and the supporting characters are important too. One of the main reasons I've always loved Bucky is because he is super loyal, he's been there for Steve and Sam in all movies and I love that. He being a supportive character doesn't mean he isn't important, he's there to support the main characters and THAT'S FINE. Like why would you have a problem with that? Him being a supportive character is one of the reasons why 2 of the biggest ships of the MCU exist (stevebucky and Sambucky) so idk why so many of you are mad.. 🚶🏽‍♀️🫩

People who go so fucking hard in the name of "defending" thunderbolts are so fucking annoying. To begin with, i've never understood why there's so much hate unleashed against Sam after that stupid ass post credits scene. He wasn't even in the movie. Now, the line "it went poorly" doesn't have to mean that he was "rude" or whatever towards Bucky/thunderbolts but even if he was, well.. HE'S RIGHT! Because what do you mean Bucky (and Yelena and ava and bob!!) out of everyone, is working willingly for the government/fuckin Valentina whom he wanted to impeach through the movie and then he got amnesia, like??? The same government that wanted to put him out in civil war, the same government that didn't trust him in tfatws, the same government who tortured him and kidnapped him for over 70 years because let's not forget that hydra and shield were the same shit... LIKE???! explain to me in which world would he be working willingly for the government??? And I'm saying this as someone who loves Bucky so damn much. He's literally my favorite character, I watched thunderbolts BECAUSE OF HIM, and that's it, otherwise I wouldn't have watched it. And if I'm honest, I dislike that post credits scene, because he's just out of character. He is and if you're a real Bucky Stan, you should see that. I didn't like that he didn't defend Sam, the person who's been with him for more than a decade in the MCU's world. The person who gave him his REAL found family. The only person in all these years that he's canonically said "I love you" to, Sam wilson is Bucky's closer friend and ally. I don't like the fact that he's betraying wakandans once again by working with Valentina (even tho I'm honestly not mad at him freeing Zemo because at the end of the day it was for something justified and he ended up turning him over), and you know what? Now that I'm complaining, I also didn't like his fucking obsession with the shield in tfatws. He saw Steve dropping that shield for him TWICE, he knows that shield isn't more important than the person carrying it so I don't get why was he so obsessed with it and why was he being annoying towards Sam throughout all of tfatws (Malcolm Spellman and Joana calo, YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES for making him act out of character 😤 ).

I've got someone in my notifications telling me that sambucky's shippers only want Bucky to be "Sam's lapdog".. excuse me??? If there are people being like that, then it's mainly Bucky's stans believing Sam is some kind of therapist for Bucky and that Sam should be there ready to serve Bucky and nah, that's not how it works. And anyway, this same person says that Bucky wouldn't abandon the thunderbolts because he "feels responsible for them".. so.. you don't want Bucky to be Sam's "lapdog", instead you want him to be a -children trafficker (yes I watched black widow and that's what he is), a murderer and 2 women who killed because they chose to do that- baby sitter??? Mmmm.. interesting. 🤔 I can understand Bucky wanting to protect Yelena, Ava and Bob (does he even need protection? Lmao) but the other 2? Nah nah. Bucky is nobody's babysitter and in any case, if he were to feel responsibility towards someone, then it should be towards Sam. You know? The man who was willing to go to jail FOR HIM. Yeah. He owes that TO SAM and to the entire Wilson family and to the wakandans, whom literally saved his life.

My thought are all over the place and I want to say so many things and this post is messy because 1) English isn't my first language and this is the first time I write anything here, for real I don't even write tags and 2) I'm angry as hell with the behavior of most thunderbolts stans since late april. y'all are a bunch of racist bullies. You have no real reason to hate on Sam, because guess what? He's basically the same as Steve, even better, yet you dislike him? ... interesting, I wonder why that is 🤔

Now, I hated that marvel made the decision to separate Sam and Bucky. I know most Sam stans, rightfully, didn't want Bucky to be in cabnw, after the shit show that was tfatw in social media, I get it but forgetting about people's reactions, which have nothing to do with the characters dynamics, and being objective, Bucky should've been next to Sam in cap4 instead of thunderbolts. I hate that it didn't happen that way. Anthony and Sebastian literally made sambucky one of the most popular, if not THE most popular pair in marvel post endgame and you separate them??? That makes no sense to me. 🫩

However, here goes my last -messy- thoughts (because believe me, I know this post is all over the place lmao):

- Sam Wilson IS captain America and he's only doing what Steve would've done too but he's a Black man so you hate him because if it was Steve, you all would be eating it up. (Because in fact, Steve did what Sam told HIM to do many times in his trilogy and in IW and eg, go back and rewatch the movies)

- Sam is no one's therapist and he also has all the right to be mad at Bucky (even tho in the movie they don't say that, y'all made that up)

- Sam Wilson IS the avengers' leader and everybody, and I mean, EVERYBODY, will be following his lead in "doomsday", period, even the thunderbolts and I cannot wait to see that 😙

- now, because I've seen people say otherwise: James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes IS a hero, he IS an avenger. Since the moment he decided to fight Thanos in wakanda, and anybody saying otherwise is wrong. Are we forgetting he was fighting Nazis much before most of the avengers' were born? He was there fighting with the first avenger yall... He is a hero, period. No discussion. (Also, unlike ava and Yelena, he didn't decide to keep on killing people after freeing himself from his abusers, nope, he chose to go back in cryo because he didn't trust himself EVEN THOUGH, killing people wouldn't have been his choice, because he was literally mind controlled.. again, unlike Yelena and ava (love them but yeah) 😶)

- I don't think he's suddenly a horrible character, the writers have made him do ooc actions but that doesn't mean he's a terrible character, not in my books. And actually even though this whole situation makes me mad, I do think things will be better in doomsday. Marvel would be shooting themselves in the feet if they separated sambucky for real. 🤡 What's annoying about all of this is that I cannot think of a right way to get Bucky and Sam to talk about this, I mean, I can but in a movie with so many characters, I can already see them making a quick joke and that's it, everything will be alright again.. ala Russo's style meanwhile we've been enduring a year and a half (by then) of horrible takes about Sam (seriously ask yourself why do you hate this character so much.. even more if you like Steve.. ask yourself why you don't like Sam and the answer will always be racism btw 🤷🏽‍♀️)

- and lastly: y'all have to stop bringing the real life relationship of Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie to the equation. They are real friends and both of them respect each other, admire each other and love each other so much and they've been saying it all these years, even this same year. Stop equating sambucky's (FICTIONAL CHARACTERS) relation to Seb and Anthony's. Y'all weird as hell for doing that. And y'all weird as hell for going against Anthony or Sebastian for what their characters do or not do in the movies. 🙄 I'm talking to the "Anthony is Sebastian's biggest fan" crowd too. Sure, he's very enthusiastic but in any case, Sebastian's the president, vice president and first member of the "Anthony Mackie fanclub". You need to watch all the interviews of that man speaking about Anthony, literally the man whow said "one of the perks of my life is knowing Anthony Mackie", the man who said "I'd walk in Anthony's shadow all the time if I had to", the man who through all of tfatws said that Mackie was THE leader of the project because he knows how to read people and that people have to give him more recognition for his work. Sebastian said that. Their relationship is based in mutual everything, mutual love, respect, admiration. Seriously, do NOT try to speak shit about them only because you disagree with what happens in the fictional world of the MCU. 🙄

- lastly FOR REAL!!: y'all really need to observe the reactions towards thunderbolts in comparison with captain america: brave new world/other bipoc projects. The hate Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie faces is unbelievable. Remember when everybody kept saying they'd boycott cabnw because of that nasty Zionist?? Well.. where was that energy towards darevill? Margarita Levieva is a Zionist (as a Seb Stan I was still following her until a year ago when she was literally justifying the murders of children on her instagram, nasty ass woman). Where's that energy towards the upcoming spiderman? Jon bernthal is a heavy Zionist. He was even following isra-hell's accounts on Twitter. Where's the boycott energy, huh??? 🤔 Ah yes... The leads in those movies are white men, I forgot they all have several passes.

Anyway, I do think all Hollywood productions have Zionists working in them, it's almost impossible that they don't, especially in this case because Disney itself IS a Zionist company 🙄 so you can keep your stupid ass excuse of boycotting something only when the lead is a Black man (or a woman), seriously check your fucking racism. It's so tiring to see white people giving stupid takes. Stfu and CHECK YOUR RACISM. 🫩

I think that was all lol, I don't think anyone's gonna read this because it's long as fuck and all over the place and I normally don't say shit but damn, it's been 2 months, going on 3, of non stop shitty takes. Keep Sam Wilson's name out of your mouth and please, stop being weird with Bucky. he'd hate you, Sebastian would hate you. 🫩 Do not become a nasty person in the name of defending fictional shit. This is the real world and some of you say really nasty ugly things in the name of defending fictional characters (defending from what? Idk but y'all swear you're doing something lol).

And btw, you don't have to like Sam but if you don't like him then don't speak about him, because again... There is NO a single reason why you should be feeling so much hate towards him (unless you're a racist). And if Bucky was real, he'd dislike you so much for being a piece of shit towards Sam. Think about that!! 😗

Honestly I don't even know what I wanted to achieve with this long ass post lmao, I might end up deleting it if I'm honest because I suffer anxiety and that's a big reason why I never interact with anyone here but damn, having people in my notifications being so wrong about Sam (and Bucky too actually) is so annoying. 🫩🫩🫩🫩🫩

[littlepinkbirdie]

The Weight of Light

Before the serum, you and Bob Reynolds used to dream small. A dingy apartment in Queens. A cat you’d both forget to feed on time. Nights on the fire escape talking about saving the world in half-jokes — because back then you both knew you couldn’t save much of anything.

You were gifted, even then. Not superhuman, not then — but special enough that someone noticed. They trained you. You did your best to keep Bob out of it, but Bob… Bob always wanted to be enough. Strong enough for you. Strong enough to matter.

You remember the last night you saw him. He kissed you on the corner of your mouth and said, “When I come back, you’ll see. I’ll be something good.” You watched him disappear down the hallway. You never got that kiss back.

Years passed. You got stronger. You earned the suit, the codename, the burden of your own missions. The world burned around the edges, and you did your best to hold your corner together.

And then came the Thunderbolts. You didn’t want to join them — but they needed you. Needed your restraint, your level head. Someone to keep the others in check when the leash slipped.

They didn’t tell you who you’d be working with until he stepped off the Quinjet.

The golden swirl of energy around him made your chest clench. He looked so big — a living sun trying to cram himself into a man’s shape. But his eyes found yours immediately, wide and disbelieving behind that perfect hero mask.

“Bob?” you breathed, before you could stop yourself.

He blinked like maybe you’d punched him. You almost wish you had.

They briefed you in the same tent — you, your armor half-scorched from the last skirmish, him sitting too close because he couldn’t seem to stand having you at arm’s length again. He barely listened to the mission rundown. He kept glancing at your hands.

When the team scattered for final prep, you stayed behind to check your gear. And then he was there, standing in the doorway. Backlit, golden. Too much light in too small a space.

“You look the same,” he said softly.

“You don’t,” you shot back, but it didn’t come out angry. Just tired.

He stepped closer, gold flickering across his shoulders like a nervous twitch. “I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t know—” “You didn’t know a lot of things, Bob.” You turned to face him. Close enough to see the freckles under all that cosmic power. “You didn’t come back.”

His breath hitched. “I wanted to. I tried. I—” He reached for you and hesitated. His hands hovered by your shoulders like he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch you anymore. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe you didn’t care.

“I missed you,” he said, voice cracking under the weight of a thousand regrets.

You closed your eyes. Let yourself feel the warmth radiating off him, that same warmth that used to curl around you in bed when the world felt too sharp. “Then stay. This time… just stay.”

His forehead pressed to yours. The gold light dimmed, just enough that he felt like Bob again. Just enough that you let yourself believe he could be.

Outside, the team was calling your names. Another mission. Another chance to lose each other all over again.

But when he pulled back, he was smiling that crooked, boyish smile you’d never forgotten. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

For the first time in years, you almost believed him.

.·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·..·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·..·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·..·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·..·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·.

You hit the ground running — quite literally. The intel was shaky: a splinter cell trying to steal alien tech from a half-collapsed research facility. You’d done this dance a hundred times — in, neutralize, out. But with the Thunderbolts, it was never that simple. Too many egos. Too much power barely held together with duct tape and half-truths.

Bob — Sentry — stayed near you the entire time. Even when the team leader barked at him to flank the east wing, he lingered behind you, hovering like your own personal sun. You caught him glancing at you between bursts of laser fire and falling concrete — eyes wide, desperate, like he was trying to memorize you through the chaos.

“Focus, Reynolds!” you snapped, throwing up an energy shield just in time to deflect a plasma bolt.

His mouth twitched — a ghost of that old grin. “I am focused.” “Then focus on them!” you shouted, jerking your chin toward a trio of mercs vaulting over the rubble.

He was gone in a blink — a gold streak smashing through the air, ripping weapons from hands like they were toys. You’d forgotten how terrifying he was when he let himself be what the serum made him. Light and force and wrath, with that gentle heart still buried somewhere inside.

When the last mercenary hit the ground, you were crouched over the stolen device — a box humming with alien circuitry and too much bad news. Bob landed beside you, stirring dust and shards of broken ceiling.

“You good?” he asked, voice softer than you expected. Like the fight didn’t just happen. Like you were still those two kids on a fire escape, dreaming about tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you muttered, not looking at him. “Cover me. I’m disarming this.”

You felt him move closer — warmth rolling off him in quiet waves, the golden flicker under his skin like a heartbeat. You hated that it still calmed you. Hated that after all these years, he could still make you feel safe even when he was half a breath away from tearing the sky open.

The device powered down with a sharp hiss. You sagged back on your heels, suddenly aware of the ache in your shoulders, the grit in your gloves. And him — kneeling beside you, so close you could see the tiny scar under his jaw you’d kissed a thousand times.

“Nice work,” he said, a smile ghosting across his lips.

You forced yourself to laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t look so surprised. I always had your back, remember?”

He didn’t answer at first. He just looked at you, eyes flicking over your face like he was searching for something he’d lost. Then his hand came up, fingers brushing your cheek so lightly it almost didn’t feel real.

“I remember,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Your breath caught. For a second, the ruined lab, the Thunderbolts, the alien tech — it all fell away. It was just him. Just you. And all the things you’d left unsaid when he walked out that door all those years ago.

You didn’t kiss him. Not yet. But you didn’t pull back either. You leaned in just enough to let your forehead rest against his, the gold flickering brighter like it could feel your heartbeat.

Somewhere behind you, the comms crackled with orders. Extraction inbound. Another fight waiting on another horizon.

But right then, you let yourself breathe him in. Let yourself believe, for a moment, that maybe this time he’d stay.

And when he whispered, “Don’t let me go again,” you nodded — because you’d waited too damn long to lose him twice.

Author note: HIII HERE YOU GO PEOPLE @saintbusan @crypticfawnn LOVE YOU ALL HOPE U ENJOY

[gildedsilk]

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Masterlist

𝜗𝜚 chapter 3. are there hos there ៹

8 screenshots + 2k+ words

Brunch is… kind of perfect.

You’re in one of those airy rooftop cafés with glass railings and white parasols, the kind of place that serves mimosas with edible flowers and a menu full of words like “artisanal” and “infused.” Everyone’s seated at a long table that’s already overflowing — Ni-Ki’s balancing three pancakes on one plate, Miyeon is live-streaming her cappuccino, and Yeonjun is arguing with Taehyun about who’s more photogenic in low lighting.

Kai’s between you and Yuqi. Quiet, but not in a nervous way — just observant. You catch him smiling once or twice. When Miyeon made that joke about runway heels being “sadistic stilts,” he actually laughed.

And honestly?

It’s nice. He seems… lighter. Still not as loud or unfiltered as the others, but comfortable. Settled in his skin, or at least trying to be.

It’s easy to forget he’s not from this world.

It’s even easier to forget he almost didn’t show up.

-

The food arrives. People dig in. Yuqi complains about the lighting. Ni-Ki spills maple syrup on Yeonjun’s jeans. Everything is chaotic and sunlit and warm, and you’re mid-bite into your eggs Benedict when it happens.

A girl walks up to the table.

She’s pretty. Polished. The kind of pretty that looks expensive without effort — long hair, tinted glasses, designer bag swinging casually off one wrist.

“Sorry,” she says, glancing over the group. “Are you… Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun blinks. “Uh. Yeah?”

“Oh my God,” she laughs. “I knew it. You’re even hotter in person. Sorry, this is random — can I get an autograph? My little sister is obsessed with you. She made me follow your Insta.”

Yeonjun, ever the ham, waves her over like a celebrity who definitely enjoys being recognized.

“Of course,” he says, already reaching for a pen. “Tell your sister she has great taste.”

The others laugh. Ni-Ki claps sarcastically. Yeonjun is bragging.

And for a moment, it’s just funny. Another fan interaction. Another compliment Yeonjun will bring up for weeks.

But then — you glance to your left.

And Kai’s not laughing.

He’s not looking at her, either.

He’s looking through her. Or past her. Or maybe not even seeing her — not really. His expression’s gone slack, like someone knocked the air out of him. One hand on the edge of the table, white-knuckled. His eyes are wide and glassy and locked in place.

Something’s wrong.

He hasn’t blinked in too long.

You shift slightly, lower your voice. “Hey,” you murmur. “You good?”

He doesn’t answer.

Yuqi’s still giggling about Yeonjun’s new “fangirl,” Miyeon’s back on her story, and no one notices that Kai hasn’t moved. But you do. You see it. The shallow breath. The way his jaw twitches like he’s trying not to break in half.

So you lean closer. Gently. Not touching him yet. Just enough to catch his focus.

“Kai,” you say again. “Look at me.”

This time he blinks — too fast, like he’s just snapped out of something. He turns toward you, and his eyes are already wet.

Your stomach drops.

He shakes his head. Quiet, barely a motion at all. “I— I need to go,” he whispers. “I— I can’t—”

“Okay.” You don’t hesitate. “Come with me.”

You push your chair back, hand brushing his wrist just long enough to anchor him. “We’ll be right back,” you say to no one in particular, and lead him out of the café.

-

You find a quiet hallway just off the kitchen — polished concrete, dim lighting, silent except for the distant clatter of plates. The moment you stop walking, Kai leans against the wall like his knees can’t hold him up anymore.

He’s shaking.

You reach for him slowly. “Hey,” you say. “Talk to me. What happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s trying — you can see it — but his mouth keeps opening and closing like the words won’t come out.

So you wait. You give him space, but not distance. You’re right there, one arm beside his, close enough that if he needs you to hold him, you could.

And then — he exhales a broken sound. Like a gasp wrapped in a sob. And suddenly his whole body folds.

You catch him before he hits the floor.

He presses his face into your shoulder and just cries — sharp and quiet and ragged. Not loud. Not attention-seeking. Just exhausted and desperate and real.

Your arms go around him without thinking.

You hold him.

You don’t know what hurt him like this. You don’t know what memory or ghost walked up to that table and cracked him open. But it did, and now he’s unraveling in your arms like he’s been holding it in for too long.

He grips the back of your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll disappear too.

“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, voice muffled against you. “I can’t— I’m not—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whisper.

“I can’t do the show.”

You close your eyes.

“Okay.”

“I thought I could,” he says, voice broken. “I thought I could fake it, but I— I saw her— I saw someone and it— it just hit me again and I can’t— I haven’t even— I’m not over it, I haven’t even started—”

His shoulders shake harder.

You rub slow circles between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m not.”

“Then let me help.”

You mean it. You mean every word, even if you don’t understand why he’s in pieces. You just know that he is, and that it’s real, and that whatever happens with this show — tomorrow or not — you’re not going to let him carry it alone anymore.

He cries until his breathing slows. Until his grip loosens. Until the silence doesn’t feel heavy anymore, just quiet.

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

Not yet.

-

It takes a long time for his breathing to even out. Long enough that your shoulder starts to ache from the way he’s still pressed into it, his forehead tucked under your jaw like he’s trying to disappear.

But you don’t move.

You just keep your arm around his back, slow and steady, waiting for the storm to pass.

And eventually… it does.

He pulls back, barely — enough to wipe at his face with the sleeve of his jacket, enough to take one shaky breath that sounds more like a real one.

You glance down. “Water?”

He nods, and you step just around the corner into the employee breakroom to snag a bottled water from the mini-fridge (don’t question it). When you return, he’s sitting on the hallway bench now — elbows on knees, hands clasped together like he’s bracing himself.

You hand it to him wordlessly. He mumbles a quiet thanks and twists the cap open.

You sit next to him, angled slightly, letting the silence hang for a beat before you say anything.

He drinks. Swallows. Breathes.

Then he finally speaks.

“That girl,” he says, voice still hoarse, “at the table. That was my ex.”

You freeze.

“Oh,” you say quickly. Then again, softer. “Oh my god. I’m—Kai, I’m so sorry.”

You look back toward the brunch table, still distantly visible through the glass doors. “Yeonjun definitely wouldn’t have talked to her if he knew. I wouldn’t have let her get near the table.”

Kai shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

He runs a hand through his hair — well, attempts to. He forgets it’s been styled to oblivion and gives up halfway through, curling his hand into a loose fist instead.

“I mean, yeah, it sucked seeing her,” he says. “But that’s not why I broke down.”

He glances at you, eyes a little clearer now. “It was everything. Her, the brunch, the shoot, the way everyone’s being so nice like I belong here… I just— I felt like I was about to drown in it.”

You blink. “But you’ve been doing great.”

“I’ve been faking it.”

That hits a little harder than you expect. “Kai…”

He exhales, shaking his head. “You don’t get it. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Beomgyu was. I’m not a model. I’m not a streamer anymore, either. I’m not anything right now.”

He looks down at his hands. “I haven’t streamed in two months. I haven’t spoken to my friends in two months. All I’ve done is sit in my room and feel like shit and try to forget that I gave everything to someone who treated me like a temporary outfit. Something trendy. Easy to throw away.”

You don’t interrupt.

His voice is steady now, but you can hear the edge in it — the anger he never gave himself permission to feel before.

“She didn’t just dump me,” he says. “She made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything outside of her. Like the only reason people liked me at all was because she did.”

You inhale sharply, but he’s still talking.

“And when it ended, I didn’t know who I was anymore. Not just as a boyfriend — as a person. My streams weren’t funny. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept thinking, if she didn’t want me, what if no one else will?”

Your chest aches.

“I thought if I went quiet, the world would just move on. That maybe disappearing would feel better than staying and having everyone see me fall apart.”

He finally looks at you again, really looks at you.

“But it didn’t. It just hurt more. And then you guys pulled me into this—this Solstice world with shiny lights and gorgeous people and cameras, and I thought maybe I could just blend in, do my job, pretend I belonged for a few days.”

He laughs, but it’s hollow. “And then she shows up, and suddenly it’s like I’m not even a person again. Just some loser with bleached hair pretending to be part of something he doesn’t deserve.”

The words land heavy.

You stare at him, heart stinging in your chest.

Then you say quietly, “You know none of that’s true, right?”

He doesn’t answer.

So you keep going. Carefully. Gently.

“You’re not a loser. You’re not pretending. You’ve been doing better than people who’ve been doing this for years. And no one at that table thinks you’re here by accident. Not Jay, not Yeonjun, not me.”

You touch his sleeve. “I know you’re still healing. But please don’t confuse a bad person for a true reflection. She didn’t break you — she just made it harder to see who you are.”

Kai goes quiet.

Then he whispers, “Who am I?”

You swallow. “I don’t know. Yet. But you’re finding him.”

You give a soft smile. “And that guy? I really, really like working with him.”

He laughs, just a little. A real one this time.

It’s quiet. It’s not fixed. But it’s something.

“Can we stay out here a few more minutes?” he asks.

You nod. “As long as you need.”

So you sit.

The hum of the city buzzes on the other side of the wall. The brunch crowd laughs somewhere behind you. But here — in this in-between space — it’s still.

And for the first time in a long time, you can see Kai breathing again.

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𝜗𝜚 silkies ៹ @sumzysworld @0sunshinecryptid0 @bunnysoonie @mrsmhaddock @cromadabi

[enjakey]

Chapter 2- a long lost friend

THE CERTAIN ROMANCE OF WINGS AND WAR

previous chapter | next chapter- coming soon

PAIRING: [DAD!JAKE SIM x FEM!READER]!MAFIA AU

TW/N: 10.6k- Mafia au | soulmates au | angel/devil wings au | childhood best friends au | frenemies au | I didn’t know I loved you until I lost you | eloping/running away | family friends au | found family au | cheating, blood, drugs, mentions of sex, alcohol, lots of cussing, mentions of murder, guns, therapy, trauma, abandoning children, adoption care, estranged families, physical abuse, anger issues, characters make terrible decisions, some characters have sexual relations but not romantic, mentions of a lot of fucking each other over (betrayal), can't trust anyone.

Chunks that are in italics are flashbacks.

SUMMARY: revelations hit Y/N like a truck when Jake and Sunghoon find out that she'd been seeing an old rival- Heeseung- in secret. Y/N is flabbergasted heartbroken- that a potential love interest turned out to be a mole and that her family had been hiding secrets about Emily, and Jay's death. Luna, Jake's daughter, proves to be the only reason for Y/N's loyalty towards the family.

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST

Y/N had always liked Heeseung’s apartment. It wasn’t expensive or particularly fancy, but it was the kind of space that felt lived-in, filled with a quiet warmth that seemed to settle into your space the moment you stepped inside. Y/N’s apartment never looked this way- her home was still a grave-yard of who she used to be, who she tried forgetting.

Light spilled through gauzy curtains, pooling over mismatched furniture and stacks of well-thumbed books piled on the floor. Everywhere she looked, there were bits of color- sun-bleached posters, cheap knick knacks from flea markets, polaroids of friends pinned above a battered old record player.

It was easy coming over to his place. She never needed an invitation. He never needed to call her. A single ring of the doorbell and he’d open the door, hair rumpled, wearing a soft grin, ready to let her into his world.

Y/N couldn’t remember exactly how it started, this rekindling of something she hadn’t even realized she’d wanted. Heeseung had once been just another older boy from her high school- a few years above her, orbiting close to Jake and Sunghoon in that complicated popularity hierarchy that ruled every hallway and cafeteria. Back then, she’d never liked him much. He and Sunghoon had always been at each other’s throats, and there was an arrogance about him that used to irritate her in ways she couldn’t even explain.

But then a few months ago, on a warm evening in the middle of summer, she bumped into him at an ice cream shop. She’d been rushing in, Luna’s voice echoing in her ears, reciting a long list of toppings she wanted on her sundae. And there he was, pushing the glass door open just as she collided into him, a cup of chocolate ice cream balanced precariously in one hand.

They’d both frozen, staring, recognition dawning like a slow curtain. They’d laughed awkwardly, exchanged the usual questions- how’ve you been, what are you doing these days?- and somewhere between the laughter and the gentle teasing, they’d traded numbers.

And before she knew it, they were here. In his bed, sun filtering through the blinds, dust motes drifting lazily around them as Heeseung pressed slow, gentle kisses into her hair. There’d been more mornings like this than either of them intended. Mornings where she woke up half-tangled in his sheets, tracing shapes on the hard planes of his chest with her fingertips, pretending that the outside world didn’t exist.

This morning was one of those. She was curled against his side, her face pressed into the faint scent of his skin- soap and detergent and the lingering sharpness of ramen. His fingers stroked through her hair, and every now and then, he’d duck down and brush his lips over the crown of her head, soft as a whisper.

“Do you have work for the day?” Heeseung asked, voice still husky from sleep.

“Mmm, no,” Y/N hummed, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Jake won’t call you with some emergency?” He teased, laughter rumbling low in his chest.

Y/N pulled back just enough to look up at him, rolling her eyes as a grin tugged at her lips. “Come on, he barely does that,” she reasoned, though she knew it wasn’t entirely true.

Heeseung’s eyes glimmered. “How is he, anyway?” He mused, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “I haven’t talked to him or Sunghoon since we graduated. How’s the daughter- Luna?”

Y/N’s chest warmed at the mention of Luna’s name. She’d told Heeseung about her plenty of times before. Showed him photos, told him stories that made her eyes light up- the time Luna tried to make pancakes by herself and nearly burned down the kitchen, the way she’d dress up as Rapunzel and insist everyone call her “Princess.” Heeseung knew it all. He knew Luna’s favorite color (purple), her favorite ice cream flavor (strawberry with rainbow sprinkles), her favorite fruit (green apples), and her favorite Disney movie (Tangled). But he’d never actually met her.

“They’re all great,” Y/N murmured, fingers idly tracing a freckle on his chest.

“I should meet them sometime,” Heeseung offered suddenly, his tone easy but eyes studying her reaction carefully. “You know, for old time’s sake.”

Y/N let out a laugh that was sharp around the edges. “Sure, Heeseung,” she said, dripping sarcasm so thick even he couldn’t miss it.

“Come on,” he said, his grin spreading as he rolled toward her, fingers finding the sensitive spot at her waist and tickling her mercilessly. She shrieked, trying to squirm away, but he followed her across the bed, laughter spilling out between them, breathless and bright.

“Stop it!” She cried through her laughter, shoving at his chest.

“Then come out with me today,” he bargained, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“Fine, fine,” she gasped, panting as she pushed hair from her face. “Let’s go do something. I’m bored.”

He pressed one last playful kiss to her lips. “Bowling?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again but couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips. “Yeah, okay. Bowling.”

Jake had always believed, deep in his heart, that he’d be an amazing father. It wasn’t arrogance- it was certainty, the same certainty he felt in his own breath or in the steady rhythm of his pulse. Even back when he was a teenager, swaggering through high school hallways with a girl draped over his arm and a chip on his shoulder, he’d had flashes of an older version of himself- bigger, stronger, protective. He’d imagined the weight of a child’s head against his chest, the small, perfect trust of someone who knew him as more than just a man with fists and fury.

When his father handed him the reins of the mob, Jake’s sense of responsibility only sharpened, coiling around his ribs like armor. He was reckless sometimes. He was violent, too, when the situation demanded it. But none of that ever felt incompatible with being a father. Because for Jake, protection was the highest expression of love- and that instinct, that fierce devotion, only burned brighter the day Luna came screaming into the world.

From the moment she was born, he was hers.

He’d held her that first night in the hospital, still covered in blood and amniotic fluid, tiny fists curled against her pink cheeks. Her eyes were shut so tightly, her entire face scrunched into an indignant wail, and Jake had stared at her in absolute wonder. There were tears in his eyes, but he’d blinked them away because he couldn’t stand for anyone to see him that raw.

He whispered her name under his breath, over and over- Luna. Like if he said it enough times, he could carve it into the marrow of his bones.

And he’d promised her, right there in the fluorescent hush of the hospital room, that she would never have to fight the way he did. That he’d bleed and break and burn the world down before he’d let it touch her. A single tear in those bright, opal eyes of her- he promised it meant hell would rage on Earth.

But fatherhood hadn’t turned him into a saint. Jake was still Jake. He lost his temper when Luna spilled juice all over his paperwork. He cursed under his breath when she drew on his leather car seats with a pink marker. But he’d never raise his voice at her, never showed the temper that bubbled inside him, never treated her the way his father treated him- never in a million years. 

In all the ways that counted, Jake was an incredible dad.

He learned how to braid hair, though his fingers were thick and clumsy, and he’d end up with lopsided plaits that made Luna giggle (Sunghoon turned out to be a better braider than him). He kept Band-Aids in every pocket because Luna was reckless like him, always scraping her knees or bumping her elbows. He never missed her parents' days at preschool, standing at the back of the room in an expensive suit, trying not to look terrifying while the kids sang songs about rainbows.

When Luna had nightmares, Jake would wake up instantly, padding down the hall in bare feet to gather her into his arms. He’d carry her back to his bed and let her burrow under his arm, his hand stroking her hair until she fell asleep again, breathing soft against his chest.

He bought her every sparkly costume she wanted, even though he’d grumble about glitter getting everywhere. He read her stories at night, giving every character a different silly voice until Luna would shriek with laughter. He let her climb onto his shoulders even when his back ached from the strain.

And now that Luna was five, the bond between them was unbreakable. She was the one person who could wrap Jake around her tiny finger without even trying. One pout, one trembling lower lip, and he’d surrender to whatever she wanted- a cookie before dinner, a ride to the park at midnight, a new plushie even though she already had an army of them.

Luna had recently fallen headfirst into the world of tea parties- the make-believe kind, with empty plastic tea cups and gaudy jewelry and plastic pearls draped around her neck like a princess from a kingdom only she could see. She’d started begging for a tea set the moment she discovered the concept, wide eyes blinking up at Jake as she insisted she couldn’t possibly be a proper hostess without one.

But Jake, ever the stubborn creature of pride and aesthetics, had refused to buy her the cheap plastic set she’d pointed to at the store. Instead, he’d scoured half the city until he found her a real set- delicate ceramic pieces painted pale pink with tiny gold roses curling around the rims, expensive enough to sit on the shelf of any grown woman’s display case.

It had been beautiful- until Luna’s clumsy little hands dropped the teapot three days later.

The crash echoed through the house like gunfire. Shards scattered across her bedroom floor in a starburst of porcelain and gold leaf. Jake had come running, heart slamming in his chest as though someone had shot at them. He found Luna sitting in the middle of the wreckage, sobbing huge, hiccupping sobs, blood blooming in a small, crimson crescent on the sole of her foot where a shard had caught her skin.

Jake had carried her to the bathroom, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached, carefully plucking pieces of porcelain from her foot while she wailed apologies against his shoulder. He hadn’t said a single harsh word. He just kept whispering, “shh, it’s okay, princess. Daddy’s not mad.” Even though, deep inside, he wanted to put his own fist through a wall for not listening to Sunghoon about not buying them in the first place.

After that, he’d begrudgingly bought her the plastic set she’d originally wanted, bright purple with chunky handles and cups that wouldn’t shatter if dropped.

Now, weeks later, Jake found himself squeezed into a tiny pink plastic chair at Luna’s tea party table, his long legs contorted at impossible angles while Luna plopped a plastic tiara onto his head with absolute authority. She was wearing a pink tulle dress over her clothes, plastic jewels clacking around her neck as she poured imaginary tea from the hollow plastic teapot into matching cups.

She was giggling so hard her dimples showed. She lived for these moments- the way her dad played along even when he was clearly dying inside. Her joy radiated through the room like sunlight through an open window.

“My knees hurt, sweetheart,” Jake groaned, rubbing one thigh and shifting for the millionth time on the too-small chair. “Why didn’t you ask your uncle Sunghoon to play?”

“Because he said he was going out to meet his sister,” Luna said, punctuating each word with a tiny jab of her finger in his direction. “Don’t you remember?”

Jake let out a breathy laugh despite the pain shooting up his shins. God, she really was his kid- sharp-tongued and stubborn and impossible to say no to. “Right- I’m sorry. I remember,” he said, nodding as though he were in a boardroom giving a formal apology.

“Do you want a biscuit, Daddy?” Luna beamed up at him, rummaging around in the packet of biscuits beside her plastic tea cups.

At least those were real. Small mercies.

Jake sighed, but his lips twitched upward. “Yes, honey, sure. I’d love a biscuit.”

Luna squealed with delight, brandishing a chocolate-coated biscuit like an offering to a king. She brought it carefully to Jake’s mouth, tiptoeing slightly as she held it out. Jake leaned forward and gently bit down, catching the biscuit between his teeth as Luna clapped her hands in triumph.

From the foot of the door, Y/N stood quietly, arms crossed over her chest, an amused and impossibly soft smile blooming across her face. She’d arrived mid-ceremony, lingering silently to take in the scene before her- Jake, the fearsome leader of their world, decked out in a plastic crown, pretending to sip imaginary tea for his daughter’s delight.

Jake didn’t notice her until the biscuit was half in his mouth, and he turned his head sideways, mid-chew. His eyes landed on Y/N- and for one fleeting second, he squeezed them shut, as though he might physically will her out of existence. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck, but there was nowhere to hide.

Y/N’s smile only grew softer, warmth shining in her eyes as she took a small step closer. “This will never grow old,” she teased, voice dancing with laughter.

Jake groaned, biscuit crumbs still caught at the corners of his mouth. 

Y/N barely had time to laugh before Luna launched herself at her, plastic beads clacking wildly as tiny arms wrapped around her legs.

“Auntie Y/N, you have to play too!” Luna squealed, trying to pull her into the circle of their royal tea party. “You can be the queen!”

Jake snorted around a mouthful of biscuit, still wearing his lopsided plastic tiara. “Of course she gets to be the queen,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been demoted to court jester over here.”

“Come on,” Luna whined, tugging harder at Y/N’s hand, her face scrunched with determination.

“All right, all right,” Y/N relented, laughing as she let herself be dragged toward the table. “But only if I get a crown too.”

Luna beamed as though she’d just won a war. She quickly shoved another sparkly plastic crown into Y/N’s hair, pinning it at a crooked angle. Jake looked over at her, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress his grin.

“You look ridiculous,” he told her.

“Says the man in a pink tiara,” Y/N shot back, settling into one of the tiny plastic chairs beside him. She was too tall for it, knees sticking out at odd angles, but she didn’t care.

Jake huffed, adjusting his crown like he was resigned to his fate. “I have work tonight, you know. Actual paperwork?”

“Oh, shut up and play with your daughter,” Y/N retorted, reaching over to pluck a plastic cup off the table. She pretended to sip from it, lifting her pinky in exaggerated elegance. “Mmm, delicious imaginary tea.”

Jake groaned. “Do you know how many hours I have left on those shipment manifests, Y/N?”

Y/N waved him off with her free hand. “Do you want to finish paperwork? Or do you want your daughter to remember that you skipped her tea party because you were too busy playing mob boss?”

Jake sputtered, caught mid-biscuit chew, as Luna gasped dramatically. “Daddy, you can’t skip tea time!” She cried, clutching his arm like the world was ending. “The tea will get cold!”

Jake stared helplessly between his daughter’s giant pleading opal eyes and Y/N’s victorious smirk. Then he slumped in his tiny chair, resigned. “Fine. But after this, I’m going back to my office.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N teased, winking at Luna. “We’ll believe that when we see it.”

Luna giggled, clapping her hands. “Daddy, eat another biscuit!” She shoved one at his mouth, crumbs tumbling everywhere as Jake bit into it, half-laughing, half-groaning.

Sunghoon, after weeks of relentless effort, had finally cracked open the door that Natalie had kept bolted- again. He’d done it slowly, carefully- one late-night check-in at a time, sending her messages asking if she’d eaten dinner, how her classes were going, whether her roommates were giving her trouble. Each offer he made came with solutions she always declined- better housing, a new laptop, private security if she felt unsafe.

She turned him down at every turn, but it wasn’t the gifts that mattered. It was the intent behind them- the way he tried, day after day, to prove he was, whether she liked it or not, her brother. That he still cared.

Eventually, Natalie relented, cautiously agreeing to spend a day with him. She’d laid out three conditions in stark detail- no extravagant outings dripping in luxury, no firearms anywhere near her, and absolutely no talk of the mob. Sunghoon had tried to argue about the gun, sputtering, “But what if we’re attacked- how do I protect you?” The question alone had terrified Natalie enough that she blocked his number for three days.

In the end, he’d agreed, begrudgingly, but beneath the grumbling, he was just grateful beyond words that she was giving him another chance. Surely, he thought, he wouldn’t mess this up again.

So they went to the local mall, a place so normal it almost felt like another world. Sunghoon vowed not to flaunt his money, but it proved impossible. Every time Natalie’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on a necklace in a shop window, or a leather-bound journal, or a stuffed animal on a shelf, he reached for his wallet. She glared at him every time, muttering, “I told you no gifts, you idiot,” but she took them anyway, hugging the teddy bear to her chest like she couldn’t help herself.

They ate greasy food at the food court, and Sunghoon asked question after question, desperate to piece together the shape of his sister’s life. Professors, roommates, new friends, whether there was someone special in her life- a question that made Natalie choke on her burger and slap his arm with a crumpled napkin. Her answers came in careful pieces, as though she still wasn’t sure how much of herself she wanted him to see, but Sunghoon clung to every word like oxygen.

When he suggested bowling, Natalie flat-out refused, shoving her finger into his chest and saying, “I know you’d just win and make me miserable.” Instead, she dragged him to the arcade.

They played cheap games surrounded by flashing lights and the electric hum of machines. At first, Sunghoon let her win everything, feigning clumsiness, missing shots on purpose. But Natalie was sharp. Halfway through the day, she crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Stop babying me. Rematch. Right now.”

So they played again. This time, Sunghoon won every game, grinning through Natalie’s indignant shrieks. She punched him in the shoulder, calling him a show-off, but when they finally cashed in their tickets, she accepted the prize- a plush teddy bear- with a shy smile.

For a while, everything felt perfect. He had his sister back. They were laughing, acting like normal siblings, if only for a day.

And then everything collapsed in the span of five seconds.

They were strolling along the top floor, Natalie clutching her teddy bear, when Sunghoon happened to look down over the glass railing. 

His heart nearly stopped beating.

On the floor below, moving through the throng of shoppers, were Y/N and a man Sunghoon hadn’t laid eyes on in years- Heeseung. Even after so long, Sunghoon recognized him instantly- the lanky frame, the confident posture, hair slicked back with gel. Heeseung was carrying a cup of frozen yogurt, gesturing animatedly at something Y/N was laughing about. Her smile was radiant, eyes crinkled, the kind of look Sunghoon hadn’t seen on her face in years.

Sunghoon froze like a statue, muscles locked, breath trapped in his chest. His pulse pounded in his ears.

Natalie had walked a few steps ahead before she noticed the sudden emptiness beside her. She turned around, brows pulling together in concern.

“Sunghoon, what is it?” She hurried to his side, clutching his arm, shaking him gently. “You’re scaring me.”

Sunghoon blinked, trying to pull himself back into his body. He glanced at his sister, saw her worry, her need for an explanation. But how could he explain any of this to her?

Natalie barely knew the first thing about the life he led. She didn’t know the truth about Jay or that he ever existed in the first place, or how Luna came to be, or the tangled history between Jake and Emily. She didn’t know that just days ago, they’d tracked Emily down at last- the woman who had abandoned her daughter and vanished five years ago- only to learn she was now engaged to the man they’d kept tied in their basement to beat information out of him to something completely unrelated. Or that Heeseung’s name kept popping up in suspicious bank transfers connected to Emily.

Emily was plotting something. Sunghoon could feel it crawling under his skin like ice. And Y/N- God, Y/N was caught in the middle of it all without even knowing.

He’d kept it from her because Jake begged him to. Said Y/N had been through enough, that dredging up the past would only shatter her again. That revealing to her, after all these years, that the person behind her brother’s death- the truck that hit them all those nights ago- was Emily’s doing, would break up.

And maybe Jake was right. But now, seeing Heeseung’s hand brush lightly against Y/N’s arm, watching her laugh and lean closer- it felt like a knife twisting in Sunghoon’s gut.

He should have told her.

And now it might already be too late.

He kept staring as they reached the mall exit. Y/N and Heeseung shared a few words, their bodies close enough to touch. And then- Sunghoon’s stomach dropped- they hugged. Not a polite hug, but something lingering, familiar. When they pulled away, Heeseung leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s temple.

Fuck.

“Natalie, go home,” Sunghoon said abruptly, his voice low and urgent.

Natalie blinked at him, confused and hurt. “Why?”

“Something’s come up,” he murmured, tearing his eyes from the floor below.

“Like what?”

He hesitated, his face crumpling for just a moment before he masked it again. “I promise you’ll know everything someday. But if I tell you now…I’m afraid you’ll hate my life even more than you already do. Forgive me, Natalie. Please. Go home. You’re not safe around me right now.”

“Sunghoon…” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Go home. Now,” his tone was soft but unyielding.

Natalie stared at him for a beat, eyes glassy, a thousand unspoken questions burning on her tongue. But she swallowed them down. Instead, she hugged the teddy bear tighter to her chest, turned, and began to walk away, shoulders rigid with disappointment.

Normally, Sunghoon would have chased her down, begged her not to be angry. But this time, he stayed frozen in place, watching his sister vanish into the crowd, each step feeling like another piece of his chest being ripped away.

He couldn’t risk her safety. Not when there was a target painted on his back.

Sunghoon drove home like a man possessed. His fingers clenched around the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked beneath his palms. He barely noticed the red lights he blew past or the furious honks trailing in his wake. His pulse hammered at his temples, his mind replaying over and over the sight of Y/N smiling up at Heeseung, the quiet intimacy of their hug, the way Heeseung’s lips brushed her temple like a claim.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, the edges of his vision were pulsing black. He sat there for a moment in the idling car, forehead pressed to the wheel, trying to steady his ragged breathing. 

He dreaded stepping inside. 

Because there were always only two versions of Jake waiting behind those doors- the one who was soft and patient, sprawled on the floor with his precious daughter; or the one barricaded in his office, jaw clenched, rage barely tethered, already neck-deep in chaos none of them could escape.

It mostly was the latter.

Jake was in Luna’s room, but he wasn’t truly there. He was sitting on a tiny plastic chair at Luna’s kiddie table, wearing a plastic crown askew on his dark hair, a fake porcelain teacup balanced delicately between his fingers. Y/N sat across from him, laughing as Luna carefully poured imaginary tea into their cups. Luna was giggling so hard her hair bounced, opal eyes shining with glee.

But Jake’s eyes, though he smiled for Luna’s sake, were distant. Even in play, the storm still brewed behind his gaze.

Sunghoon’s chest squeezed painfully. Part of him wanted to walk away, to let them have these precious minutes untouched. Y/N and Jake laughing together- that was a sight Sunghoon never took for granted. It had taken years for them to claw their way back to this fragile peace, after all the screaming fights, all the silences so thick you could choke on them. And it was Luna, sweet Luna, who had mended the jagged borders between them. She was the glue that held this entire fucked-up family together.

But Sunghoon had no choice.

Luna spotted him first. She dropped the plastic teapot mid-pour and launched herself across the room, tiny feet pounding the carpet. Before he could brace himself, she wrapped around his legs like a vine, her laughter ringing like bells. The moment her arms locked around him, some of the anger inside him eased- if only for a second.

“Come play, Sunghoon!” She pleaded, gazing up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon managed a trembling smile. Gently, he scooped her up, feeling how feather-light she was against his solid chest. She squealed, clutching his arms with her small fingers. He pressed his forehead to hers for a heartbeat, inhaling the familiar scent of shampoo and sugar.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he murmured, lowering his voice theatrically. “I can’t tonight,” he put on a sorrowful pout, exaggerating his frown. “I need to steal your dad and your aunt away for a bit, okay? It’s for work.”

Luna’s face fell, her lower lip jutting out in a tiny pink pout. “It’s always work,” she grumbled as he set her back down.

Sunghoon knelt in front of her, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I know, angel. I promise I’ll play next time. You save me some tea, okay?”

Luna didn’t answer, but she turned toward her plastic table, trying her best to be brave, even as her eyes filled with confusion at the sudden shift in the room. She was learning young that some grown-up conversations weren’t meant for her ears.

Y/N finally stood up from the tiny chair, rubbing her knees. Her eyes were sharp, worried, already scanning his face for clues. “What is it?”

Jake pushed back from the table as well, his posture suddenly rigid, relief flashing through his eyes because Sunghoon’s presence meant he could drop the act. The plastic crown slid from his head and clattered to the floor, forgotten.

“Office,” Sunghoon said, voice low and certain. “Now.”

And without waiting for them to respond, he turned on his heel and walked out.

When the three of them were finally alone in the office, the silence felt dense enough to choke on. Jake shut the door with a soft click, and Sunghoon remained standing, arms crossed, eyes boring into Y/N like he was trying to see through her skin.

Y/N shifted her weight, letting out a shaky breath that almost came out as a laugh. A wry, bewildered smile tugged at her lips- she did that a lot these days, smiled when she was confused. It was a habit she’d picked up around the time Jay died, as though baring her teeth could keep the grief from eating her alive.

“Did I do something?” She asked lightly, voice cracking just a bit. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sunghoon’s eyes flickered to Jake, then back to Y/N, and there was something burning behind them- fear, frustration, maybe even rage. His voice was tight as a wire. “Why were you with Heeseung?”

Jake’s head snapped toward her so fast Y/N actually flinched. 

He wasn’t beside her anymore. He was drifting, inch by inch, until he stood beside Sunghoon instead. Behind them, the office’s dark wood bookcases loomed like a mountain ready to crush her. The room felt like it was shrinking, walls pressing closer, air thinning around her lungs.

“What?” Y/N’s voice came out too high. Her eyes darted wildly between them, panic scraping raw at her insides.

“I saw you, Y/N. At the mall,” Sunghoon said, his words clipped. “Why were you with Heeseung?”

“What the fuck,” Jake muttered under his breath, his jaw tight enough to crack a tooth.

“Why does it matter?” Y/N snapped back, her brows drawing together in confusion and indignation. “Why are you acting like I committed a goddamn crime?”

Sunghoon closed his eyes briefly, dragging in a breath as though it pained him. He rubbed his fingers hard into the bridge of his nose, frustration radiating off his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, they were molten with accusation. He turned that look on Jake next. “You should have told her,” he hissed. “You do this every fucking time, Jake- and every time, something like this happens.”

Y/N’s head whipped between the two of them, blood roaring in her ears. “Told me what?” She demanded, voice trembling, anger and fear now swirling together in her chest. “What the hell is going on?”

“Y/N.” Jake’s voice was rough as gravel. He exhaled hard and shoved his hands into his pockets, like if he didn’t anchor them there, they might lash out. “Heeseung’s connected to Emily.”

Y/N felt something seize painfully in her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her brows knit as her eyes darted between the two men. “What?” Her voice came out small, strangled. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon stepped in, tone gentler but weighed down with urgency. “We were digging around , rying to find a lead on that Louis guy? Apparently they’re engaged, Y/N. Emily and Louis… they’re engaged.”

Y/N blinked, a disbelieving scoff trembling at her lips. “What does that have to do with Heeseung?”

“Bank statements,” Sunghoon continued, voice tight. “Lots of them. Transfers going back and forth between Emily and Heeseung. We don’t know exactly what it’s for. But… I don’t think this is good.”

Y/N could feel her pulse pounding in her temples. “When did you figure this out?” She demanded, her voice rising.

But Sunghoon shot back his own question instead, quiet and careful, as though handling a grenade. “When did you and Heeseung get involved?”

He wasn’t angry anymore- that was the worst part. He wasn’t yelling. He just looked at her like he was afraid she’d shatter. Since Jay’s death, she’d become fragile in ways they still didn’t fully understand. Up until a year ago, she’d have good weeks, and then there’d be nights she woke screaming, or days she’d burst into tears out of nowhere, punching Jake in the chest until she collapsed into sobs. No one was sure if she’d ever really stopped blaming Jake- or herself- for any of it.

“A few months ago,” she mumbled at last, her gaze falling to the hem of her shirt. She twisted the fabric in her fingers, voice barely a breath. “I… I didn’t know.”

Suddenly everything made sense. All those casual questions Heeseung would ask about the business, about her family, about her schedule- things she’d brushed off as idle curiosity. The hairline fractures of doubt splintered into something darker as she realized how she’d offered pieces of herself, pieces of them, and how easily it could all be used against them.

Jake’s voice cut through her thoughts, cold and sharp. “What are you, then?” he demanded. “You don’t have wings. You’re clearly not in love. So what is this?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered, voice trembling, shame curling in her gut like acid. “I thought…”

Jake scoffed. “You thought what? That something could come out of this?”

“Jake-”

“Emily killed your brother, Y/N,” Jake spat, his voice hitting her like a slap. His words were raw, ripped from somewhere deep and festering.

It landed like a hammer in her chest. Y/N reeled back a step, breath stuttering out of her as her face went slack.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sunghoon barked at Jake, voice harsh, but it was already too late.

Because Y/N was spiraling. Her breaths were short, ragged gasps, fingers clawing at the front of her chest as though she could dig the pain out from under her ribs. Her eyes had gone huge, glassy, like she was trapped somewhere far away.

Jake, maddened and blind with rage, didn’t even seem to notice. “This is why I fucking tell you to tell me things,” he snarled. “You should have told us the second you saw him. Fuck, that guy’s been shady since high school-”

“Fuck you,” Y/N screamed back, voice shredded with rage and grief. “You don’t fucking tell me anything either.”

Sunghoon reached out, laying a steady hand between her shoulder blades, another catching her arm as she tried to twist away. But she wrenched free and lunged toward Jake, shoving him hard in the chest. 

He barely budged, just glared down at her, eyes blazing.

“Fuck you,” she choked out again, her voice breaking. “Why do you do this to me? Why do you always fucking do this?”

Jake shot back, voice cold as steel. “Do what? Keep you safe?”

“This isn’t keeping anyone safe,” Y/N screamed, her voice trembling with the edges of panic. “Keeping things from me- lying to me- that’s not fucking safety.”

Jake glared down at her, jaw ticking. “You’ve kept things from us too, Y/N. Clearly.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know my love life was any of your business?” She snapped, breath coming in ragged bursts. “If you’d just told me about this when you found out, I could have-”

Jake barked out a humorless laugh, cutting her off. “You could have what? Huh? It’d have been too late by then anyway.”

“Fuck you, Jake!” Y/N screamed, eyes shining wetly, voice cracking with fury and hurt.

Jake took a step closer, towering over her. “How much does he know?” His voice was low, dangerous. “About our life. About Luna. About us.”

Y/N’s lips parted, then closed again as she struggled to find words. Her voice dropped to a broken whisper. “I don’t know, Jake. I don’t fucking know.”

Sunghoon didn’t wait for Jake’s next word. He reached out, grabbing Y/N by her shaking shoulders and turning her toward the door. She barely resisted, stumbling along like a sleepwalker, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as they left the heavy hush of the office behind.

Every footstep echoed between the darkened walls, a sound that seemed far too loud for how shattered she felt inside. Her mind was spinning, splintering under the weight of truths she hadn’t been ready to hear. She couldn’t tell where her anger ended and her guilt began, or whether she was more furious with Jake for keeping secrets, with Emily for coming back, or with herself- for letting Emily into her life in the first place.

She kept thinking- If only she’d never become friends with Emily. If only Jake had never fallen for her. If only Jay had never crossed paths with any of them. Maybe he’d still be alive. Maybe none of them would be living in this endless purgatory of grief and blame.

Sunghoon kept a steady hand on her arm, trying to steer her gently, though his own pulse thudded hard enough to be heard. They’d barely rounded the corner past Luna’s room when they heard the light scuff of socks on the hardwood floor. A small voice came floating after them, soft and hesitant like a breeze rustling paper.

“Y/N?”

Both of them turned sharply. Luna stood there in the hallway, eyes round as moons, clutching the edge of the doorframe with her tiny fingers, her face pale with confusion and worry.

“Why are you crying?” She asked, her voice catching just slightly at the end.

A sob escaped Y/N before she could choke it back. She tried to smile, but her lips trembled too hard to hold it. She dropped into a crouch and gathered Luna into her arms. The little girl fit against her chest as lightly as a breath, her small body warm and solid, grounding Y/N even as everything inside her felt like it was dissolving.

“It’s nothing, honey. I’m just tired,” Y/N murmured into Luna’s hair, fingers combing through the silky strands, tucking them gently behind the child’s ear. The scent of Luna’s shampoo- something fruity and soft- almost undid her completely.

Luna leaned back slightly, studying Y/N’s red-rimmed eyes with a seriousness far beyond her five years. Then she turned to Sunghoon, brows pulling together in a delicate scowl. “Did you yell at her?”

“No, honey,” Y/N said, attempting a watery chuckle, though a new tear slipped down her cheek despite the laugh.

“Your dad did, though,” Sunghoon said before he could think better of it, the admission rolling out in a sigh.

Luna’s mouth fell open in a tiny gasp. She twisted back toward Y/N, a fierce spark flaring in her pale eyes. “Do you want me to go talk to him?”

Despite everything, a choked laugh broke from Y/N’s throat, joined a moment later by a weary huff of amusement from Sunghoon. Even in a hurricane, Luna found a way to anchor them.

“No, baby,” Y/N whispered, pressing her lips to Luna’s cheek. “I’m just tired. I think I want to take a nap.”

“Can I nap with you?” Luna asked, voice soft as spun sugar.

Sunghoon swallowed hard, feeling something tight lodge in his chest as he nodded. “Go on. Both of you rest.”

Y/N left, still cradling Luna, and disappeared down the hallway into the spare bedroom that had become hers in this house. The soft click of the door shutting behind them felt like a wall going up between Sunghoon and the fragile pieces of peace that Y/N always carried with her.

Moments ago, they’d all been crammed into tiny plastic chairs, playing tea parties with cheap plastic crowns perched on their heads. Jake had been laughing. Y/N had been rolling her eyes at his dramatics. Luna had been pouring air into miniature cups, calling herself the princess of the kingdom.

He lingered there in the hall for a moment, staring at the closed door, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. The laughter from only half an hour ago felt impossibly distant, a memory made hazy and unreal.

When Sunghoon finally stepped back into the office, Jake hadn’t moved. He was still standing where they’d left him, staring at the far wall, jaw clenched so hard that the muscles jumped along his jawline. His fists hung rigid at his sides.

Sunghoon stalked closer, his voice low and seething. “What is wrong with you?” He demanded. “That girl is broken because of you.”

“What do you mean?” Jake snapped, his voice ragged, a raw edge slicing through the heavy silence between them. He raked a hand through his hair, looking as though he was ready to punch a hole through the nearest wall, exasperation written into every tense line of his body.

“Did we not just see the same fucking thing?” Sunghoon shot back, his brows drawn tight, eyes blazing. “Is this selective vision or something? You know her brother is a sensitive topic for her. Shit like this isn’t something you just hurl at her and expect her to be fine.”

Jake scoffed, tossing his hands up. “What do you want me to do, Sunghoon? Buy her fucking chocolate and tell her everything’s okay?”

Sunghoon stepped closer, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed it might splinter. “That girl just found out the guy she’s been seeing is probably plotting against her- and that her brother died because of the woman who gave birth to your daughter– her once best friend. You think that’s something she’s supposed to just swallow?”

Jake’s voice dropped to a low, scathing growl. “She’s not a child, Hoon. She can take care of herself. The guy she liked? Better she forgets him now than later. It’s better for all of us, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be fucking hypocritical.” Sunghoon’s voice cracked like a whip through the room, making Jake’s eyes flicker. “When she told you to stay away from Emily- did you listen?”

Jake’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking beneath the skin as silence spread between them like poison.

“You didn’t,” Sunghoon said, voice shaking with barely-contained fury. “Exactly. At least she listened, Jake. At least she could accept it when she was wrong. You couldn’t. That’s the difference between you two.”

Jake’s breath stuttered, his shoulders rising and falling like he was trying to force the anger back into his ribs. “What the fuck was I supposed to do, huh? You were part of the conversation too-”

“Be a little fucking sensitive,” Sunghoon hissed, cutting him off, voice brittle with frustration. He flung his arms out, fingers splayed, as if trying to physically shove the truth into Jake’s chest. “You treat her like shit and she puts up with it. She has every right in the world to blame you for Jay’s death, but she doesn’t. She’s killing herself trying to keep the fucking peace. You hurt her right now- and she still chooses to sleep under this roof instead of running back to her own apartment. She put Jungwon into therapy but she doesn’t know how to help herself, Jake.”

Jake blinked, his eyes darting toward the door, as though he might tear it open and go check for himself. “She’s asleep?” He murmured, almost as if the question embarrassed him.

“Yes,” Sunghoon confirmed, his voice softer now but still carrying an undertone of anger. “Not even a year ago, she still hated you, Jake. Don’t take her for granted. We both know how easy it is for her to up and leave when she’s had enough.”

Sunghoon lingered just a second longer, his glare burning holes through Jake’s defenses, before he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Jake alone- adrift in a tide of guilt and anger that he couldn’t seem to untangle from the care he still felt for the woman who’d just left him in tears.

Jake stayed in the office a long while after Sunghoon left, just staring into the glass of whiskey he’d poured. The amber liquid caught glints of lamplight like shards of gold, but he never lifted it to his lips. Instead, he sat motionless, letting the silence close in around him, thick as smoke.

He kept thinking about how everything had come to this point- about whether his brothers, whether David, whether Y/N herself ever regretted that he’d been adopted into the family and not some other kid.

He wondered, fleetingly, if he would’ve turned out differently if David had been a better father.

The way he protected and cared for his brothers- somehow, it never translated into how he handled Y/N. Oh, he tried. He still treated her like family in his own way- he bought her little things he knew she liked, hugged her like she was his own, trained her until she was nearly better than him, took her out on quiet drives just to get her mind off things or new restaurants she wanted to try.

But time and again, he hurt her. It was a fucking cycle- first it was Emily. Now, it was this.

He wondered what he would have done if he’d been in her place. Run away, probably. Rid himself of his last name, go into hiding, start fresh somewhere no one knew him- or maybe, simply kill him.

When he finally wandered out of the office and toward her room, it was with a hollow ache twisting his gut. And the guilt only doubled when he passed Niki in the hall, who was leaving her room with a look of silent fury, eyes shining with disappointment as he brushed past Jake without a word.

When Jake stepped into Y/N’s room, he found her lying on the bed with her back to the door. Beside her, Luna’s small sleeping form was curled into Y/N’s side, one tiny hand gripping Y/N’s shirt. Y/N’s other hand rose and fell gently, rhythmically patting Luna’s chest like a soft lullaby.

Jake lingered by the door for a second, unsure. Then he sighed and said, voice soft, “you know, I always thought if you were gonna date anyone, it’d be Niki by now. Not Heeseung, of all people.”

It was the truth. In his mind, it had always made sense. They were close in age, always looking out for each other, protecting one another without ever needing to speak it aloud. Niki was fiercely loyal to her, especially since Jay died.

There’d even been a point years back when he and Sunghoon had placed a bet that by the time they all hit a certain age, those two would have ended up together. But as time passed, it became clear they were more like siblings than anything else.

“Fuck off, Jake,” Y/N muttered without looking at him, her voice raw and low. She kept her hand moving over Luna’s chest, refusing to turn her head. But they both knew he wasn’t going to leave- not so easily.

Jake stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally crossed the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Luna. He could finally see Y/N’s face- cheeks flushed from crying, eyes heavy and swollen, tear tracks gleaming faintly in the dim lamplight. “I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

“You always do this,” Y/N murmured, voice trembling. “You always fuck me over.”

“You always do this,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest, each word trembling with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “I don’t fall for your lies anymore.”

Jake’s eyes snapped back to her, his features sharpening. “Lying?” He bit out. “Don’t be a child, Y/N. Christ, go dance, have some fun. Want me to get you a drink?”

“Stop being so fucking condescending,” Y/N hissed, her voice shaking as she reached back and grabbed Sunghoon’s half-finished whiskey off the bar. Sunghoon didn’t even blink, lost in conversation with Jungwon.

“I’m not being condescending,” Jake shot back, his voice rising above the music.

“You are,” Y/N hurled back at him, the words ripping out of her like shrapnel. “And you’re an asshole.”

Jake’s jaw worked furiously, his breath coming faster, eyes blazing. “Seriously, Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you tonight?”

“Nothing, Jake,” Y/N sighed, grumbling under her breath. “Just leave it. You never fucking listen to me, anyway.”

She pushed past him, determined to storm off, to put as much distance between them as she could. But Jake reached out on instinct, his hand closing around her arm just as a stranger slammed into her from the other side- a body colliding hard in the chaos of the dance floor.

Her heel buckled, snapping with a sharp, cruel crack. A flash of searing pain shot up her leg like a lightning striking bone. Y/N hissed, her cry slicing through the music, and then she was crumpling to the sticky floor, the world blurring into a riot of neon lights and muffled noise.

“I know. I’m sorry. I swear I don’t mean to.”

Her eyes flicked toward him, and somehow that was all the invitation Jake needed. He shifted closer, laying down beside Luna so that he and Y/N were facing each other over the child’s small, sleeping form. Slowly, he reached across Luna’s body and placed his hand gently on top of Y/N’s where it rested on Luna’s chest. She flinched at first, but then she let the warmth seep in.

“You have every right to be mad at me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

She stared past him, eyes unfocused, as though she couldn’t quite bear to look him in the eye.

“I have every right to kill you too,” she whispered finally. “The only thing that’s stopping me is Luna.”

Jake gave a broken, soft laugh, though his eyes glistened. “If it weren’t for her…I think I’d let you kill me.”

The silence between them turned heavy again, thick with things neither of them knew how to say.

“Why do you like hurting me, Jake?” She asked, her voice a quiet, raw wound.

He felt his chest splinter at the edges, felt the words clawing up his throat. “I don’t like hurting you,” he breathed. “Fuck, Y/N- I hate myself for it.”

“It’s not that hard to communicate,” she said. “I don’t know why you hide everything from me.”

Jake exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” he said again, voice so low it was almost inaudible. “You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me.”

Y/N held his gaze for a fleeting moment, eyes shining with tears that threatened but refused to fall. Then, as if the weight of looking at him was too much to bear, her eyes drifted downward to where their hands rested on Luna’s chest- fingers touching, not quite fully laced together, suspended somewhere between connection and distance.

Slowly, she turned back toward Luna, her breath hitching softly as she focused on the gentle rise and fall of the little girl’s chest.  A hush settled over the room, thick and fragile as she fell asleep.

Jake stayed beside them, unmoving. He didn’t pull his hand away from hers. Instead, he lay there in the hush, his face turned toward the woman he couldn’t stop hurting and the child he’d give his life for. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with theirs, every inhale and exhale sharp with the ache of words he couldn’t find.

And as he stared at the faint glow of the night light casting soft shadows on the walls, Jake wondered, for the thousandth time, how something that felt so right could also hurt so goddamn much.

A few months after Jay’s passing, Niki had woken up one morning and decided, with the numb, desperate finality of a man on the edge, that he had to become a better person. He didn’t even know exactly what better meant, except that it sure as hell meant getting sober.

He could never quite say why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Maybe it was the sound of Y/N sobbing herself hoarse into the sleeves of Sunghoon’s hoodie, or the funeral where they’d all stood in stiff suits pretending they weren’t falling apart. Or maybe it was that first night he tried to drown his grief in vodka and woke up on the bathroom floor, shaking so violently he thought his bones would shatter. 

Whatever the reason, he checked himself into rehab three months after Jay’s funeral, grim-jawed and silent, and didn’t look back.

Y/N helped him through it, every painstaking day. She drove him to appointments, sat in the parking lot reading old books while he confessed his sins to strangers in therapy circles, held him steady when his body rebelled against sobriety. And for her, it was a sufficient amount of distraction.

Jungwon, meanwhile, had decided that if Niki could claw his way out of hell, he should try too. In quiet solidarity, he started weaning off his antidepressants, determined to prove to himself that he could survive on pure willpower. Soon after, Jungwon found love with Alice, as though the universe had decided he deserved at least one bright thing. Niki… well, Niki somehow found himself tangled back up with Sophie, though it was complicated and raw and left him feeling exposed in ways he wasn’t sure he liked.

Yet for all the progress he’d made, Niki knew better than anyone that recovery wasn’t a miracle cure. His brain still tried to drag him into darkness, sometimes for days at a time. He’d catch himself staring blankly at his own hands, the urge to break something vibrating through his bones. And lately, he’d discovered a new hobby- torturing people for Jake, in the basement lit by a single swinging bulb. Tying men up, peeling secrets from them with his fists, plucking feathers from winged enemies like he was gutting birds. It terrified him how calm he felt while doing it; how necessary it sometimes seemed.

At least, he told himself, he wasn’t addicted anymore. At least he was functioning.

When he rekindled things with Sophie, it wasn’t because he was ready. He wasn’t thinking straight; he was just lonely, hollowed out, wanting to feel something. And now here he was, stuck in emotions he hadn’t signed up for.

The only person he trusted with that confession was Jungwon. Because Jungwon didn’t lecture him the way Y/N or Sunghoon would, didn’t judge him like Jake might. Jungwon would simply listen, eyes soft, nodding at all the right moments. 

And Niki liked listening too- liked hearing Jungwon talk about Alice with a shy glow, the way the feathers at the tips of his wings would twitch, like they were trying to express emotions Jungwon didn’t have words for. He liked hearing Jungwon admit he was afraid to apply to college because he thought he was too old, even though he was barely twenty-six.

Niki envied Jungwon sometimes. He envied that he had a hobby like cooking, something gentle and normal. Niki had no hobbies outside of guns, knives, and punching bags.

When he came downstairs from Y/N’s room, he found Jungwon standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his slender waist, sleeves rolled up, wings tucked behind his back. A bright cloud of steam rose from a wok as garlic and chili sizzled in oil.

It wasn’t often that Jungwon cooked- usually they left it to the chef- but whenever he did, it meant he was having a good day. 

“What’s the occasion?” Niki asked as he wandered in, leaning forward to inspect the countertop. Finding it clear, he boosted himself up to sit on it. He was too tall and whacked the back of his head against the cabinet, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the sore spot.

Jungwon burst out laughing, the sound sharp and genuine. His wings fluttered- they tended to do that whenever he laughed. 

“Nothing really,” he said, tossing shrimp and clams into the wok. “Just felt like cooking. It’s been a while.”

Niki hummed, kicking his feet a little. He was quiet for a moment, then said, softly, “I just came out of Y/N’s room. She was crying.”

Jungwon’s wooden spoon paused mid-stir. He turned, eyes wide. “What? Why?”

“Jake,” Niki sighed. “He treats her like shit. I don’t know why she keeps putting up with him. If I were her, I’d have left this family years ago.”

Jungwon let out a quiet exhale, shoulders sagging slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “What did Hyung even do this time?”

“Jay… Emily… Heeseung,” Niki murmured.

“Right,” Jungwon said, almost under his breath, returning his focus to the wok. His wings folded tighten into themselves- Niki saw it, the way they shifted and adjusted. “I don’t know why he keeps going in these circles with her. He could have just… told her the truth. It’s like he wants to see how far he can push her before she snaps.”

Niki tilted his head, considering that. “Yeah. If I were her, I’d have killed him by now.”

Jungwon snorted a little laugh. “She probably could if she tried.”

Niki stared down at the polished tile floor, thinking. “Hey… have you ever… you know, all those years ago, when the fights first started, Y/N yelling about Jake and Emily… did you ever think that maybe, a small part of her… was jealous?”

Jungwon’s spoon clattered against the side of the pan. “Y/N? Jealous?” He scoffed, eyes wide. “Please.”

“No, seriously,” Niki insisted. “For the longest time, she was basically the only girl in Jake’s life who mattered. And then Emily shows up. Jake never treated any of his other girlfriends the way he treated Emily. Don’t you see?”

Jungwon frowned, thinking it through. “I see your point,” he admitted. “But even if she did like him back then… I think that’s long gone. She probably hates him more than anyone now.”

“Yet she stays,” Niki said softly.

Jungwon gave a weary shrug. “Now that Jake knows where Emily is… do you think he’s gonna do something about it?”

Niki let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I hope he kills her, honestly.”

THREE WEEKS AGO

On a bright afternoon soaked in that soft gold sunlight that seemed specially made for good memories, Luna burst into the living room with all the urgency of a tiny CEO announcing a company crisis.

“Daddy!” She squeaked, clutching a piece of crumpled construction paper like it held state secrets. “We have art time in kindergarten next week and I don’t have any stuff!”

Jake, who’d been sprawled on the couch scrolling through something grim-looking on his phone, blinked at her over the screen. “What… stuff?” he asked warily, as though she might demand a new car.

“Art stuff!” Luna declared, brown eyes enormous. “Paints and glues and sparkles. Everyone will bring their own. Teacher said!”

“Right…” Jake muttered, dragging a hand over his face as though bracing for battle.

Y/N, who’d been half-dozing in the armchair, snapped her eyes open. “Art store trip?” She piped up, voice bright with mischief. “I’m coming.”

Jake shot her a look. “You’re jobless. Why are you so excited to spend my money?”

“I’m emotionally supporting my niece,” Y/N countered, breezing past him to scoop Luna into her arms. “Besides, you’ll buy the wrong stuff if I don’t supervise.”

Jake huffed. “I’m not that useless.”

“Last time you went alone, you bought ceramic tea sets for a five-year-old,” Y/N shot back. “And then had to sweep up shards for three days.”

Jake muttered something under his breath about betrayal but eventually caved, grabbing his keys and hauling himself off the couch.

Twenty minutes later, they were standing inside the local art supply store, which smelled like paper, acrylic paint, and faint childhood dreams. Rows of rainbow-colored craft supplies towered around them. It was the kind of place Y/N loved and Jake absolutely dreaded.

Luna immediately dashed down an aisle, tiny sneakers squeaking against the floor. “Look, Auntie Y/N! Glitter glue!” She shrieked, holding up a multipack like it was the Holy Grail.

Jake groaned. “No glitter. It gets in my- everywhere.”

Y/N ignored him completely, scooping the glitter glue from Luna’s hands. “You can have as much glitter as you want, baby.”

Jake gave her a betrayed look. “You’re evil.”

“You’d have ended up buying it anyway too,” Y/N shot back.

While Luna darted ahead, enchanted by shelves of rainbow paints and glittering sticker sheets, Jake and Y/N hung back for a moment. They stood side by side, just watching Luna’s opal eyes go wide as saucers at each new discovery. She was talking to herself under her breath, weighing the merits of sparkly foam sheets versus neon feathers, completely absorbed in her tiny world.

For a few seconds, Jake and Y/N didn’t say anything. They just watched her, bathed in the warm, artificial glow of the store lights.

Jake let out a soft laugh under his breath. “She’s gonna bankrupt me, you know that?” It was clearly an exaggeration- nothing his daughter wanted- or anyone wanted- would be able to bankrupt him. This was barely a dent in his bank account. 

But Jake liked saying such things; it made him feel like he lived a normal life with a normal family.

“She’s worth it,” Y/N murmured, eyes still on Luna.

“Yeah…” Jake said quietly, and when he looked at Y/N, there was a softness in his eyes that made her chest squeeze painfully.

Their knuckles brushed once. Y/N blinked and shifted her hand back by a fraction, but Jake didn’t let it go. Instead, he stretched out his pinky, tentative and gentle, hooking it around hers.

Y/N’s breath hitched, the simple touch somehow sending a shiver up her spine.

Slowly, cautiously, Jake slid his hand into hers completely, his thumb brushing over the back of her palm.

Y/N finally looked up at him. His dark eyes were already on her, so close, so serious. For a moment, it felt like the whole store fell away- the shelves of glitter, the hum of fluorescent lights, even Luna’s happy chatter. There was only Jake, and the silent question in his touch.

Y/N’s heart thudded so hard she was sure he could feel it through her fingers. She didn’t pull away.

“Daddy, Auntie Y/N!” Luna’s voice suddenly sliced through the quiet spell. She was bouncing in place, waving a pair of pink bunny scissors. “Can I have these? Please?”

Jake blinked and quickly let go of Y/N’s hand, stepping back like he’d been caught stealing. His face flared red, and he coughed into his fist. “Are… bunny scissors safe?” He asked gruffly.

“Only one way to find out,” Y/N managed, her voice a little breathless as she tossed them into the basket.

By the time they made it to the checkout, Jake looked like he’d survived a minor war, glitter speckling his black hoodie. Y/N was laughing softly, nudging his side while Luna skipped around them, clutching her pink bunny scissors and a bottle of neon purple paint.

“Are we done torturing me now?” Jake muttered as they stepped outside, blinking into the sunlight.

Y/N looped her arm through his. “ Wait until Luna discovers pottery class.”

Jake shuddered visibly.

Luna, skipping ahead, turned around to beam at both of them. “Daddy, Auntie Y/N… I’m gonna make the best art!”

And in that moment, under the fading glow of a late afternoon sun, Jake found himself smiling despite the glitter lodged in his hair.

A week later, all her art pieces came to hang on the fridge and various corners of Jake’s office.

[makixroll]

rawr first ask ever on tumblr kinda nervy

anways i immediately thought of harua getting pouty for beebadoobee's "don't forget to kiss me" like oh my days (aaah)

its kinda giving those tiktok/yt pranks where someone leaves w/o saying ily or w/o giving a kiss fjkewdkfjevroiejiorf

also ur music taste is highkey fire like okayyyyy + i love ur works

(i have thoughts about the other lyrics with other members but I wont share them yet unless they go untouched <3)

GLUE SONG — harua ۫ ꣑ৎ

pairing . . . harua x fem!reader

content . . . "don't forget to kiss me."

message . . . hi anon tysm !! lol i have a playlist full of love songs and likeee i really wanna add more but i was contemplating cause im not sure if my event will flop or not ANYWAYS!! im so so so excited for ur other asks!

Harua just came back from their tour, and to say the least, he was tired as hell. As soon as they landed in Japan, he didn't bother going back to their dorm. Instead, he went straight to your apartment. Now, he's taking a well deserved nap in your bedroom, while you were in the living room, waiting for your boyfriend to wake up so you could go to the grocery store.

You were on your phone, scrolling on tiktok to pass time when you suddenly stumbled upon a couple prank video. With sudden interest, you watched the whole thing, already imagining Harua's reaction if you ever do this to him. But of course, you're a nice girlfriend. You wouldn't do such thing that could potentially upset your cute boyfriend.

Okay... maybe you're not that nice when you found yourself wishing for Harua to wake up sooner, just so you could do the prank to him.

And as if the gods above had heard your prayers, you heard faint footsteps coming from inside the bedroom, and then, the doorknob twisted open, revealing Harua who's eyes are still half-closed with a messy hair he tried to get rid off by combing it with his fingers.

"Hi, baby. Had a good sleep?" You beamed at him. Harua glanced at you with a lazy smile as he nodded his head, walking towards the couch where you're sat. You turned off your phone, patting the space beside you. Harua sat with a slump as he leaned on your shoulder.

"I'm going to the store to buy us food. You want anything?" You asked, hands combing his hair as he snuggled closer to you, loving the warmth of your body right now.

"You already know what I want." Harua mumbled softly, now, his chin rested on your shoulder as he looked at you.

You gave him a smile, patting his head. "Okay, thought you wanted other stuffs. I'll go now."

Harua nodded his head, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds before he dettached himself from you. You stood up, gathering the things you needed before walking towards the door, not before glancing at Harua's sleepy form on the couch.

"I'll be quick, baby." You announced, waving your hand at him before you twisted the door knob.

Harua's eyebrows were now furrowed, sensing something wrong. Not to the surrounding, not to himself, but to you. He sensed something wrong, and he felt like something's missing ever since you left the couch. Then, something clicked.

No I love you's, no kisses before leaving.

His eyes shot up, "Baby!" He called out, Harua's voice coming out as a whine. You bit your lower lip, trying to supress a chuckle as you glanced back at him, a questioned hum leaving your lips. You observed his face, pouty lips and glaring eyes. Yup, Harua's sulky now.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Harua asked, trying to sound mad. But to you, he's the cutest boyfriend ever. You feigned confusion, tilting your head to the side as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

"Am I? My wallet is with me right now, though." You answered in a mumble, cupping your pockets to look believable.

Harua groaned as he rolled his eyes on you, you couldn't help but let out the contained giggles from your mouth as he stood up from the couch and marched towards you. Once he was standing in front of you, he grabbed your chin softly and tilted it, he leaned down,

"Don't forget to kiss me." Harua whispered before he planted his lips on yours. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, your hands coming up to wrapped themselves around his neck, kissing him back.

Now satisfied, Harua broke the kiss, panting softly as he stared at your eyes. His pouty expression no longer there, replaced with a cheeky smile.

"So that's what I forgot, huh." You said teasingly, before giving him another peck on his lips.

[sillylittlerebelsblog]

Desi Love

Desi love doesn’t arrive like thunder. It doesn’t stand outside your window with flowers or a boy holding a boombox playing your favorite song. That’s Hollywood. Here, love doesn’t shout from rooftops , it grows like a secret you never asked for, the kind you try to ignore but feel blooming under your skin anyway. It lingers in glances , in half-sentences , in the corners behind the Godrej Almirah your mother's father bought for her and the space under your bed. In the space between “I’m fine” and what they really meant to say.

You don’t even know it’s happening until it’s in the way someone says your name. You don’t fall in love here like they do in films. It’s quieter. It grows in silences that stretch too long, in fingers that almost touch and then don’t. It lives in the unsaid, and sometimes dies there too. They won’t tell you they love you but they will remember how you like your chai just like your parents stock up on your favourite fruit.

It begins quietly. In shared glances over someone else’s engagement. In text messages that start with “did you eat?” and end with a silence that says everything. It’s built out of hesitation and hope, compromise and courage. It carries the weight of too many expectations of families, of rituals, of futures drawn without your name in them.

Desi love is both rebellion and obedience. Sometimes it ends before it even begins. Sometimes, you walk away not because it’s over, but because it has to be. Because there are names you dare not disappoint. Elders you cannot ignore. Stories already written for you.

And you tell yourself it’s the right thing. But when it gets quiet, you wonder , "Why do we call it love when we chase those who wouldn’t stay, and forget the ones who’ve been loving us without needing to be asked?"

Sometimes it survives in fragments. In old songs, in old photos you forgot to delete. In the exact way coffee tastes when made just the way they liked it. And rarely , it stays. And if it does, it stays loud in quiet ways. In pointless arguments about TV shows. In how you read their silence and still stay close. In how you become a home for each other when nothing else around you feels like one.

It’s mangoes cut for you without asking. It’s lychees peeled and handed over, cold and sweet. It’s a shared blanket in the dead of winter. It’s that one glance across a crowded room that says, “I know you. Even here.” And your soul? Without your permission finds theirs again and again like a dog returning to it's home even if you abandoned it in the middle of the night on a deserted street.

This love isn’t poetic or neat. Heck it doesn’t even make sense when you try to explain it to anyone else but it’s real.

And that’s enough. Sometimes, that’s more than enough.

[moonsmultimusings]

Zen couldn't claim that anyone suspecting him was necessarily wrong for thinking so. He knew that he was built (after putting in the time to ensure this was the case), and that his looks did save him from many of these preconceptions. He had done 'bad things' in the past, and he knew he was capable of them, if only for the sake of survival. Couldn't everyone? Luckily, he had his girlfriend by his side to help cover for him.

She was swift to protest his comment, and she was correct about that much. As an actor, one had to find at least some level of skill in improv. Sure, some were better at it than others, but part of the thrill of a live performance was finding ways to cover for the unexpected. Someone else flubbing a line, an extra forgetting one entirely, a malfunction… He had to be quick on his feet. For Chaesun in the moment, this meant a swift reframing. “I was testing you to see if you could stay in character.” An airtight defense, surely. Her counter was to strike a pose as a testament to her 'complete and total ordinariness.'

“I wouldn't think a girl so beautiful could pass as ordinary, but not everyone can see the garden for its flowers,” he remarked in return. She was correct in her statement that she had earned a reward after all of this hard work. As she relaxed and settled into the couch, he finished carrying the few groceries they'd picked up into his small kitchen. There was plenty of space to stock things away, saving back the greatest component -- their dinner for this evening.

Her request, once settled, was to have their food brought to them, something he readily acquiesced to. Their warm dakgangjeong was brought out with chopsticks for two, paired with pickled radish and a bit of salad. “I may not be able to cook for you, but I'll still serve you,” he assured, offering her up the chicken first, and placing the rest beside her on the couch. He did have to make a trip back to the kitchen for chopsticks, but he returned with a pair for both of them. Simple disposable ones, to avoid dishes. As was his habit. Then he had to put on some water for tea, but he didn't want to stop her from digging in if she was hungry.

“This is some of the best local chicken.” It was a shame that the supermarket held such a title, but he couldn't deny the flavor. “It always makes me want chimaek…” He didn't feel tonight was the night to crack open a beer. Not because he didn't want one, but because he wanted to remain alert for her sake. They'd been safe so far, but after the day they'd had, it seemed to him like it would pay to be safe. Now, tomorrow might be a good opportunity for drinking to forget. “Let me know what you think.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His comment earned a raised brow once they were safely back inside. It had unfolded how she imagined it. Some were wary of him, but since they went about their business without doing anything criminal, no one bothered them, and they even kept away from them. “ Uhm , excuse me , mister pro actor . If I’m not mistaken , weren’t you also whispering to me and making me laugh ? ” Chaesun struck a pose, like she was an idol or the heroine from some dramatic work of fiction, winking confidently with one hand on her hip and the other holding up a peace sign. “ Besides , it was my complete and total ordinariness that kept everyone out of our business . You should be rewarding me for a job well done instead . ” Looking so smug while saying something that sounded self-deprecating was quite an odd combination.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Though she had stolen Zen’s heart, it was very clear why she and Seven got along so well sometimes. When this was all over, she wanted to get to know him more and become best friends. The heat of her maybe boyfriend’s fury would have to cool first, though. Not only that, but the redhead only let people in so far. Her stance relaxed, and a puff of air left her, along with the stiffness of her body. She had been playing it off, but was relieved they made it, too. Having faith regardless of the chances happened to be one of her greatest strengths. If she couldn’t believe in herself, she could count on him. In her eyes, there was nothing he couldn’t do, which might contrast with what he may have concluded when thinking about how limited his options were when she was in the clutches of a violent individual.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Being in a cozy, safe environment again allowed her to calm down further. They had reinforced the best-case scenario. The two could safely go outside without coming face to face with those crazed, mint-colored eyes again. That was good, though. It meant that their night could be somewhat normal now, and for a few hours, she could focus on spending time with her crush and getting some well-needed rest. Something might change between them very soon; it was a feeling she had. Her stomach sounded again. “ I would like that reward in the form of food right now , please … ” Her voice was small, practically a whine as she stepped out of her shoes and melded with the couch.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Chaesun had done so much today: party prep, had a life-threatening encounter, and put all that aside to go to the store with the person she had eyes for. Such fluctuations in sentiments and mental states on little sleep had finally physically caught up to her. Adrenaline was still present, but only enough to keep her alert. Her mind nagged at her to help him with the tea or to just grab her meal herself, but the rest of her rebelled. Zen said she wouldn’t have to worry about anything until the morning, and she didn’t need him to say it to know he wouldn’t go back on tha, so she held her tongue, biting back the profuse apologies that would have reflexively leaked from her mouth.