#that flash warning is for real though yikes

[writeriguess]

Heyyyyy me again! (I'm the one who just requested Katsuki almost turning into villain) So. Could you write a fic where Katsuki actually DOES turn into a villain. Maybe he feels like he was betrayed by everyone (but not reader) and teams up with Dabi? And reader's reaction to learning her boyfriend has turned into a villain.

Good Hero

The warehouse stank of burnt metal and gasoline, the scent thick in the air like a warning. You shouldn’t have come. You knew that the moment you stepped inside and felt the cold bite of realization settle in your chest. But you had to see for yourself. Had to know if it was true.

And there he was.

Katsuki stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the dim light casting deep shadows on his face. He looked the same, yet so different. His usual scowl was still there, but his eyes... they were hollow. Hardened. Like something inside him had finally cracked.

Dabi was the first to notice you. He smirked, his scars pulling at his skin as he leaned lazily against a rusted table. “Well, well, if it isn’t the little hero’s sweetheart.” His voice was a slow drawl, the words drenched in amusement. “Didn’t think you had the guts to come see your boyfriend in his new line of work.”

You ignored him, your focus locked onto Katsuki. “Tell me it’s not true.”

He didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Just stood there, like the weight of your voice barely touched him. But you knew better. Knew him.

“Katsuki,” you tried again, stepping forward. “Tell me this isn’t real.”

Dabi chuckled, low and dark. “Oh, it’s real, sweetheart. And let me tell you, it was a hell of a show watching golden boy here finally snap. The heroes weren’t exactly lining up to save him.” He flicked his fingers, sending up a small, lazy ember. “Turns out, they never really had his back.”

Your stomach twisted. You had heard the rumors—whispers of Katsuki Bakugo disappearing, of something going wrong, of heroes turning a blind eye. But you never believed it. Not until now.

Katsuki exhaled sharply. “Shut up, Dabi.”

The scarred man raised a brow, still smirking but holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just making conversation, man.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “You’re working with them?” Your voice cracked, raw with disbelief. “With him?”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched, a flicker of something—remorse, anger, hesitation—flashing in his eyes before he shut it down. “I do what I have to,” he said, voice cold. “I don’t need anyone’s damn permission.”

“But why?” The question spilled out before you could stop it. “You’re not a villain, Katsuki.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You think that matters?” His hands curled into fists. “The heroes made their choice. They left me to rot. No one gave a damn what happened to me.”

“I did,” you whispered, throat tight. “I always did.”

Something in his expression wavered. Just for a second. And that second was enough.

Dabi clicked his tongue. “Yikes. That was almost touching.” He pushed off the table, tilting his head at Katsuki. “Gotta say, though, this whole tortured villain act suits you. What’s next? Gonna tell her you’re doing this for her?”

“Shut the hell up, Dabi.” Katsuki’s voice was sharp, a warning. And for once, the older villain actually listened, rolling his eyes but backing off.

You stared at Katsuki, searching for something—anything—of the boy you loved. “You don’t have to do this,” you pleaded. “Come back with me. Please.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then, he shook his head. “It’s too late.”

Your chest ached, but you refused to look away. “Not for me.”

Katsuki turned, his back to you now, a barrier between what he was and what he used to be. “You should go.”

And just like that, you felt the ground shift beneath you. Because this wasn’t just about heroes and villains, or right and wrong. This was about Katsuki. And whether or not he’d ever find his way back to you.

And you weren’t sure if he would.

[lavishedinjimin]

Crybaby - 3 (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

alt: Jungkook doesn’t want to leave you.

↳ pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff

↳ rating: r-18/18+

↳ word count: 12k

↳ warnings: the usual dom!jk x sub! reader, ddlg themes, reader is small in height, degrading terms, he’s aggressive this chapter YIKES, jungkook gets turned on seeing you cry, manhandling, uses of rope and a vibrator, kinky sex, size kink, multiple orgasms, rough intercourse, jk’s a sadist, throat fucking, dirty talk, teasing, very possessive jk, and aftercare!!! there’s also some tooth melting fluff to (hopefully) balance everything out ;)

A/n: Before anything else, I want to repeat saying that everything written here is purely fictional, consensual, and doesn’t mirror the mentioned artists’ personality in real life.

Jungkook thinks you’re the most adorable person in the entire world.

“How did you even fall in love with me?” you ask innocently, resting your head on his lap as you both let Edward Scissorhands play in the background. You didn’t even want to watch it in the first place but of course, a little bit of his desperate ‘please’ and puppy eyes always wins your meek heart.

He wraps his hand around your jaw, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. Giggling from the sudden impromptu kiss, you feel his soft, supple lips fondle with your own so gingerly. His grip on you tightens before he pulls away with a smirk, noticing the blush on your cheeks.

“So suddenly, baby?” Jungkook mutters as he feeds you a spoonful of Reese’s ice cream he holds in one hand. Looking down at your endearing face, he replies, “Don’t you remember our arcade date? That’s when I confessed my love to you.”

“Yeah, but…” you ponder, “Did you plan it all along?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes before giggling, his dimples peeking through his cheeks. Watching black strands of hair fall down right in front of his eyes as you gaze at him in confusion. Jungkook just sits there. “Well, there’s this exact moment when I knew that I just had to make you mine.”

With your eyes slowly expanding, you try to hide the smile that was slowly creeping up your face. He places the spoon inside the tub, letting his hand stroke your delicate cheek. “Wanna know what it was, baby girl?”

The way how fast you nodded your head was a little bit embarrassing. He grins nonetheless, “So…”

*flashback*

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s arm snakes around your waist before he tugs you closer to him. He gazes down at you with a smile before he points to the shelf full of toys and stuffed animals. “Which one do you like?”

Gulping, you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, “Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Because I’m gonna win as many tickets as I possibly can to get it for you.”

You didn’t know how to respond for your shyness takes over you once again. On the other hand, Jungkook finds this so charming about you.

“The pink penguin…perhaps?” you mumble.

Jungkook immediately walks closer to approach the male employee behind the counter and inquires, “Excuse me, but how many tickets to get that penguin over there?”

You giggle as you watch how serious he looked as if talking about a huge business deal with his arms crossed together.

The man replies with a bright smile, “1500 tickets, that is!”

“That’s a lot—” you exhale.

“Let’s go, Y/n!” he abruptly pulls you by the arm and tugs you along with him, “I’m gonna get that lil’ penguin for you, baby.”

Your heart swells at the petname. It wasn’t his first time saying it, you just can’t get used to it.

Even though this was the fifth date, the post-nervousness was still there. Before he picked you up from work, your hands were sweating bizarrely. It wasn’t like you weren’t comfortable with him, no, you were always at ease when you’re with him. The reason for the nervousness was you haven’t been in a relationship with someone for so long, and Jungkook has his bars set up high. 

Plus, it was overwhelming in a good way; Jungkook was the confident type and he likes to display how much he adores you – either in private or public places, he didn’t care. As long as he can properly show how much he likes you.  

The arcade has a very 80s feel to it, with a color scheme of mostly red, yellow, and blue. It was lively and has a fun atmosphere going around. Children were running around with their parents, eager to search for another machine to take over, teenage boys were competing against each other in a game of Tekken, and a lot of girls were having a blast inside the Karaoke rooms. 

While time goes on in the arcade, you never realized that he was super competitive. “Y/n, I’m gonna beat this record, watch me.” He says in a deep tone as though wanting to sound serious, stretching his arms to prepare for the punching machine.

“Are you sure?” you chuckle as you hold all of you two’s well-earned tickets from the past hours, “The record is 877. Are you even strong enough?”

You could’ve sworn to yourself that it was an innocent, genuine question. But Jungkook, on the other hand, turns behind to look at you with those dark yet sensual eyes. He precipitously cracks his knuckles, succeeding to intimidate you.

“What a weird question, Y/n,” he says sarcastically with a smirk daubed on his face, “I don’t think you know how powerful I am, babe.”

As soon as those words left his lips, he turns back around in a flash, swinging his right arm with all his might until his fist crashes against the punching bag. You let out a loud gasp, mouth forming into a beaming wide grin as the machine slightly thuds from the harsh impact.

Still, he doesn’t look at the score and he looks at you with a cocky grin, boldly spreading his arms out.

“Kook—” you snort.

“What did I tell you, Y/n? I’m the strongest man you know.”

“Sure but,” you cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too loud, “You s-scored 878!”

Jungkook whips around instantly. Surely, surely he didn’t win by only 1 single point! He groans and stomps his foot like a little child. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You couldn’t control your laughter anymore as you reach out to him, hugging his body from behind. Jungkook throws his head back in despair while he places his hands on top of yours. Your hug felt warm and soft, feeling your cheek pressed up against him. Jungkook turns you around until he was face to face with you.

“You’re so small,” he practically whispers underneath his breath. He places his long, slender index finger below your chin and tilts your head up. Then with his other hand, he uses it to remove the lost strands of hair away from your face. “So fucking cute.”

You can’t help but look away as your body freezes in place. And once again, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a little ball and hide from everyone from how tough he was staring at you. There was a fuzzy, fiery feeling going on inside your system that you can’t seem to handle.

“Nuh-uh, keep those pretty eyes on me.” He applies just the right amount of force on your chin and angles your head to look up.

Your breathing almost stops at that single sentence.

Jungkook looked like as if numerous of thoughts were running through his brain. His eyes were not only fixated on yours but were darting all over. He memorizes the pattern on your face; the distance between your nose to your mouth, the little creases near your eyes, your moles, and even the little pimples you had on your temples, he thinks you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful to handle.

‘How can a person look so perfect?’ He asks himself.

“Kook?”

Oh, how soft your voice is. His mouth curves into a gentle smile for he can’t help himself but pull you closer.

“Hm?”

“People are staring.”

Jungkook scoffs quietly, “Let them stare, Y/n. This is our world and they’re just living in it.”

You had a tough, long day at work and this date really made your day better. You were laughing and having fun with Jungkook the whole time, experiencing one of the most enjoyable days you’ve ever had. It was as if all of your problems went away whenever you’re with him. You and he played almost every game in the arcade, except for the Dance Dance machine which was sadly under maintenance. You were really looking forward to beating him in Dance Revolution because he insists that he’s a good dancer. He has yet to prove that to you! 

“Yes! I won!” You yelled, turning your hands into a fist after successfully beating Jungkook at the Hockey table. He chuckles when you stuck your tongue out at him like a child.

“I obviously allowed you to win that one, babe,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “I mean, you have to win at least something, right?”

“Hey!” you pout, treading heavily to his side. Jungkook gawks down at you with his brows raised. “I won because I’m good at it, okay?”

“Aww,” he teases, “Alright then little one. Say whatever you want.”

“You’re so,” you gulp, “so m-mean.”

Jungkook looks around the arcade, zooming his eyes all over the place until he spots an ice-cream seller just outside the building.

An idea pops up inside his mind.

“I’ll treat you some ice cream, how’s that?”

He notices how your eyes glimmer as if little shining stars replaced your pupils. You nod frantically.

“Yeah? Alright, wait for me here, okay? And in the meantime, how about you turn in all of our tickets, and let’s see if we can get the penguin stuffie.”

“Okay,” you jitter excitedly, holding the stack of tickets tighter. You watch him walk out of the area, catching the way he pulls out his black leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

Making your way down the hallway to the main entrance where the ticket eaters are, you smile at a couple of strangers who had their eyes on you. When you arrived, you can’t take your eyes off of the shelves full of plushies. Especially the pink penguin that you were after. You had an instinct to squint your eyes at the toy as if having a little staring contest with it while the machine consumes and counts all of the tickets.

After a little while, you hear Jungkook’s voice calling your name.

“Y/n!” he shouts, holding up two cookies and cream ice cream cones, “come, come!”

You sprinted. You didn’t know why you were so excited to get the ice cream, leaving the tickets counting all alone behind you.

“Yaaay! Ice cr—oomph!” 

There was a step slightly higher towards the exit and your feet immediately collides against it. Like a quick wisp of air, your body smashes upon the hard, cold cemented floor. A loud, painful cry escapes your lips as you close your eyes, trying to endure the building pain on your forearms and knees.

‘This is so embarrassing!’ you say in your mind, struggling to regain your composure. 

People around you looked, some tried to hide their obvious laughter by covering their mouths, but none helped.

Jungkook saw everything. Quickly handing the ice cream back to the vendor, saying that ‘he’ll come back for it’, he dashes to where you are and handles your fallen body with utmost care.

“Hey, hey baby,” he whispers, placing his hands on your underarms to lift you up with ease, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His heart drops to his stomach right when you looked up at him with your big, teary eyes.

“Oh god,” Jungkook’s voice weakens, “No, no, don’t cry baby girl, don’t cry…”

You were so humiliated. You shouldn’t have run so fast like that, you should’ve watched your step! Now everyone will look at you weirdly!

Whimpering when Jungkook makes you walk, you shake your head to show that it hurts as you try to hold back your tears. “Ohh, Y/n,” he sighs before he lifts you up, and carries you to a nearby brown bench just outside the arcade. He crouches before you, “Does your knees hurt, hmm?” his hands caress your exposed legs up and down, trying his best to soothe you.

Biting your lip, you nod slowly.

“Aw, goodness,” he leans closer to you and kisses your forehead, “What did you do, huh? You should’ve been more careful and watched your step.” He clicks his tongue, making a ‘tsk’ sound, “Good thing there’s no scratches.”

The stern, strict tone of his voice caused you to look away and hang your head low. “S-Sorry…” you sniffed.

A single tear flows out of your right eye and it slowly treads down your cheek. Jungkook was quick to notice, wiping your tear away with his thumb. “Hey, it’s okay baby.” He reaches your hand and gives it a little kiss, “Don’t cry now, hmm? Look at me,” he tilts your head up with a single finger underneath your chin, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re okay, you’re with me.”

You only stared at him with glossy eyes, not giving a reply. However, Jungkook’s mind comes up with a plan. “Wait here Y/n, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“No!” you whine, shaking your head. Your hands grab onto his muscular biceps as you try to pull him closer.

He chuckles quietly and holds your face in his big, warm hands, his eyes staring deep into yours. “I won’t be going far, baby girl, I’m not leaving you alone, yeah? Stay here for me, I’ll be back in a quick second.” With a final kiss on top of your head, he shuffles back inside the arcade, leaving you alone on the bench while the soft, supple air kisses your skin. The wind whooshes your hair to one side, causing a few strands to get caught in your mouth. You hiked your knees up to your stomach, hugging yourself in search of comfort.

You never want to go inside that arcade ever again.

A few moments have passed and you see Jungkook walking back to you with a huge grin on his face, hands behind his back as if hiding something.

Your mood instantly picks up again when he surprises you with the soft, pink penguin stuffie, handing it over to you with a big smile. You eagerly reached your arms out to grab for the toy, but he doesn’t give it to you just yet. 

“Uh-uh, promise me you won’t be sad anymore?”

“I promise!” you giggle, eyes laid still on the penguin. “Gimme!”

“Right,” he sighs amusingly, “Here you go, babe.” Jungkook laughs from how fast you snatched the stuffie away from him. He looks at you with love as you cuddled the toy in your arms, pressing your cheeks against it.

In the meantime, he leaves you to get the ice creams that the vendor was still keeping an eye on the entire time. Jungkook pays him and apologizes for the wait, before coming back to you with two cones in each hand.

“Ice cream,” he gives you your cone, “for my crybaby.”

Jungkook, somehow – as crazy as it may sound – feels his chest warming up from the sight of you. How come he likes seeing you this way? Something about taking care of you drives his heart pounding. Was it because you look so cute, yet so vulnerable? Or was it his caretaking, nurturing personality that was beginning to emerge? Whatever it was, Jungkook was fond of it.

Jungkook walks you back home, his hand intertwined with yours, while you carry your penguin toy that you named Perry. 

“Perry?” Jungkook chuckles amusingly, “Like Perry the Platypus?” 

“Nope!” you shake your head with a serious glint in your face, “Perry the Pink Penguin!” 

“Well that’s just horrific.” 

The air around the two of you was great – it wasn’t hot nor cold either. You two had little sweet talks and short conversations here and there as your shoes brush along the paved sidewalks.

When you both end up in your doorstep, you bid Jungkook goodbye. “Thank you for today, Kook,” you speak shyly, “And um, for this—” you refer to the penguin stuffie. He chuckles but not a word has been spoken. So you continue, “I-I also want to say sorry… for uh… because you had to see me cry…”

“No, no, it’s alright with me,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, enveloping your small figure into a hug, leaning down so that his chin rests on top of your head. “It doesn’t bother me. In fact, uh, Y/n?”

You raise your brows, pulling out of the hug to stare at him, “Yeah?”

Jungkook gulps the ball that has been formed in his throat, looking away from your beautiful face for a moment before recollecting his thoughts, “I’ve…I’ve thought about this for a while now. Like a really long time.”

You listen with your mouth slightly agape, watching him get a little flustered.

“I really really fucking like you, Y/n. I know you know that already.”

Your heart beats a little faster.

“And I want to spend more time with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you. Almost every second of my mind is filled with you and your pretty smile. I w-want to treat you and take care of you everyday without having to think twice. So, uh, if you want can you…can you be my girl—”

“Yes!”

Jungkook was taken aback from your quick reply. His eyes slightly expand as the corner of his lips curve up, “Yes?”

“Yes! I-I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Jungkook’s heart was filled with joy and ecstasy for he was so glad that you felt the same way. He lifts your body up and spins you around, causing you to squeal and hold onto his shoulders.

“You’re mine now, Y/n. Fucking finally.”

*end of flashback*

“What do you mean?! So the entire time we were playing games at that arcade… the moment you fell in love with me was when I cried because I tripped?!” You bellowed, sitting up straight on the couch as Jungkook laughs his ass off from your reaction.

“Well, obviously it’s not only that! That moment just sticks to my mind a lot. You’re too adorable when you cry.” Jungkook smirks on the last sentence, having two meanings behind it. 

You huff, standing up to head to the bedroom. “Hey, where are you going baby?” With him still giggling, he tries to catch your arm.

“Bedroom! I’m scared of Edward Scissorhands. You’re weird, Jungkook.”

“I’ll be with you after I finish my ice cream!”

Being a graphic designer can be challenging yet enjoyable at the same time. You get to do what you love which was drawing and editing digital photos, yet the only downfall was that you had to work in an office building. Being an introvert, having a lot of people around your workplace was a lot to get used to.

But thankfully, you have Jimin.

Not only is he one of your best friends, but he was also a senior designer who is assigned to you – his inferior.

Sometimes you two can’t even get a single thing done because all you both did was fool around your office, instead of him guiding you and teaching you the ropes.

“Hey, Y/n!” Jimin gleams as he walks inside the office room, hands in his pockets. He was wearing black fitted pants and a white long-sleeved shirt tucked inside. “Have you ate yet?”

You stretch your arms out, twisting your body side to side to crack your bones. “Uh, yeah! I ate two cups of ramen before you got here.”

He smiles at you, “That’s good. Anyway, are we still working on the designs for our Christmas calendar?” Jimin sits across from you, eyeing all of the scattered papers filled with colorful drawings.

“Mhm! This is my fourth edit. Director didn’t like my designs,” you pout.

“That’s why you need my help, Y/n.” He speaks slowly with his eyes squinting, enunciating his words, “Me and no one else.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s no way to talk to your superior!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay when he gets stuck in the long traffic. He was on the way to your office building to pick you up from work, but of course, it just had to be a busy Monday today. No cars were moving even a single inch, the whole highway motionless that causes Jungkook to zone out a little bit.

Zoning out isn’t a good move for Jungkook for he tends to think about the most ridiculous, absurd things ever.

But suddenly, as if his thoughts were infatuated by a demon, the image of your sobbing, fucked-out face flashes in his mind. He unconsciously bites on his lower lip, remembering how much your little body shuddered, and how you keep withering around the bed from even the slightest of touch.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes out, feeling uncomfortable in his seat. He shuffles around until he finds a good position, sensing a tightness in his pants. He recalls how he got so turned on just from your sensitivity, the way you were whimpering and trying your best to hold back your tears.

Knowing that he’s the only person that can make you cry from having sex really strokes his ego. Before he had you, he didn’t know that he had a kink for making his significant other cry during intercourse. 

It may be just the sadistic side of him getting fueled up whenever he sees your tears, he can’t explain how much it drives him wild.

Jungkook smirks while he rests his elbow on the car door as his fingers play with his lip. He’s cocky about the fact that he can make you sob and quiver like that. Make you turn so fucking submissive and obedient for him, letting him take over and control your frail, poor body.

He remembers the first time he discovers your filthy kinks and fantasies, how baffled he was to know that an innocent, shy girl like you can be so wild. It was always the ones you don’t expect to have a freaky side.

Jungkook grunts as his hand grip the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles turning white. He chuckles to himself as the raging boner hardens beneath his black ripped jeans, almost being a little too painful to bear. He hears your cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, the way you whimpered so cutely every time, your sobs growing louder and louder, he loves those noises. Thankfully, the traffic eases up and cars finally move.

“Oh, Y/n,” Jungkook mutters whilst shaking his head, “What an angel you are.”

If it weren’t for the traffic lights that always reminded him to slow down, Jungkook would’ve driven in light-speed just to see you again. His dirty thoughts that won’t go away was making him impatient and hornier. 

When he successfully arrives at the building, he speed-walks to the elevator, heading to the second floor. Jungkook taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms together. “Fucking hell,” he grunts as his mind keeps repeating images of your cute body trying to take his dick, how your legs shake, or the way your eyes couldn’t keep themselves open from the pleasure he was giving you. He sighs with a little grin on his face, “Why am I like this?”

The door opens and he makes his way to your area, knowing which hallways and turns he has to make thanks from his previous visits. He makes long, quick strides until he finally reaches your office.

But the excited smile that was once planted in his face fades away when he spots you from outside the window, with Jimin behind you. Jungkook feels his body tense when Jimin leans his body from behind, his arms trapping your upper body with his cheek pressed against your face.

“What the fuck?”

Jungkook’s blood boils and he feels himself getting enraged. Why were you letting him touch you like that? He knows that Jimin’s only a friend, but he was not supposed to act all touchy like that with a girl who’s already taken. It made Jungkook furious to see some other man holding his girl like that – for he was supposed to be the only one. The only arms that are supposed to wrap around your body are his.

He tries to calm down. Jungkook really does attempt to calm down but his nerves don’t stop heating up. With a shaky exhale, he grabs his phone from his back pocket and calls your number to test if you’ll pick up.

“Oh, wait, is that your phone?” Jimin asks, “Someone’s calling you.”

You giggle while you make your way to the desk while dragging Jimin behind you. Your phone displayed Jungkook’s name – although it made your heart skip a beat – you declined the call.

“Huh,” Jungkook scoffs, smirking wrathfully. He doesn’t even try to wonder why you didn’t pick up. He feels irritated and all the flirty, playful mood he once had was gone in a single moment.

You jump in surprise when the door swings open, revealing a very angry Jungkook making his way to your desk. Jimin instantly distances himself away from you.

“B-Babe!” you laugh nervously, palms getting sweaty. You quickly glance at Jimin, sending him a worried look before turning your attention back to Jungkook. Your boyfriend stands tall across the desk with his arms crossed, glaring at you with a lifted eyebrow. “You’re here e-early!”

He doesn’t reply.

Unwillingly, you clasp your hands behind your back and your head hangs low from Jungkook’s intimidating, hard glare, falling right into submission. You gulp from the immense tension that builds up in the room.

“Uh…I’ll be heading off—” Jimin says, making his way to the exit but Jungkook doesn’t speak a single word to him, nor to you. 

You take this chance to gather all of your belongings, packing your laptop, tablet, and shoving all of your papers inside your tote bag in a rush. 

“So we’re allowed to let other people touch us, hmm, Y/n?” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. His head was tilted up although his gaze looks down on you. 

“I-It doesn’t mean anything!” you feel your knees getting wobbly, wanting to just disappear from the harsh look he was giving you. 

He rolls his eyes, “Of fucking course it doesn’t. But tell me, Y/n, if it were the other way around. If you saw some other girl’s face pressed against fucking mine while she had her arms around me, would you like it?” With your feet shuffling against the floor in fear, you look away from him. “Huh? Would you like seeing some other girl in your place?” 

“No.” 

“No. That’s correct. So I have the right to be fucking angry.” 

Jungkook rushes forward, “Why didn’t you answer your phone, hmm?” he slams his hand on the desk, causing you to gasp. “Y/n?”

While your eyes look down on the ground, you can hear the heel of his boots clicking against the floor, walking closer to you. The air that surrounds the two of you immediately thickens, and you weren’t a fan of the tense atmosphere at all.

“I was w-working—”

“Bullshit.” He grips your jaw tightly in one hand, forcing you to angle your head up and look at him. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart clenches and drops down to the floor from the stringent attitude of his voice. You mewl when he tightens his grip and feverishly rattles your head side to side. “Use your fucking words.”

“I…w-was…” you stammer, “talking with Jimin.” Instant regret fills your mind and body for even being so close with Jimin when you should’ve answered his call. “I’m sorry—!”

“Save your sorry’s for later. I won’t be accepting your apologies soon enough, brat.”

He releases his grip on you and walks away without sparing you another glance. “We’ve been together for so long, Y/n. Haven’t you learned that I don’t like it when other men oggle you up?” Jungkook turns back around, lifting the hems of his long-sleeves so that it exposes his forearms. “If I wasn’t here, you would’ve allowed him to keep touching you like that, right? Yes or no?” 

You immediately shake your head, “N-No!” 

“No? Really...” he laughs darkly, “Please, Y/n, I wasn’t born yesterday. Since he’s ‘just a friend’ I still think you would’ve let him touch you. I know you, I see right past your fucking lies.” 

He wasn’t wrong, and you feel so guilty. So guilty that all you wanted to do was to hug him and apologize, but you know that it isn’t easy. 

“Head down to the car. Don’t make me wait for you because if not, I’m gonna fucking leave you here.” He brushes his long hair back and with that, he was gone.

A chill came running down your spine and you immediately follow right behind his footsteps.

The car ride back home was quiet and you didn’t like the silence at all. You were trying to force yourself to talk, say sorry so that everything will hopefully go back to normal. But there was as if a thick wall separating the two of you.

“Babe?” you whisper meekly, your hand nervously playing with the hem of your thigh-high stockings. Jungkook clenches his jaw yet he doesn’t respond.

A pout creeps up your lips instinctively, “I’m really really sorry…”

No response.

You feel a heavy burden in your heart, upsetting you even more because he was giving you the silent treatment. Jungkook has never ignored you like this before, not even in your most heated argument. Looking at his face in hopes that he’ll at least give you a single glance, you depict how his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes straight ahead on the road. “Kook, please talk to me—”

Your words got cut off when the engine suddenly roars loudly and the car accelerates, your body going in a state of shock as Jungkook shifts the gear. He steps on the pedal and the car goes from a steady 60 to 80 miles per hour.

“Jungkook! S-Slow down!” your left hand reaches out to grab a hold of his own hand, but he was quick to shove it away, leaving you sad and whining in your seat.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “The faster we get back home, the quicker I can punish you.” He says without looking at you.

Your core jumps and twists at his demeaning words, feeling confused yet excited at the same time. Unintentionally, you clench your thighs together as his hot, sultry voice resonates throughout the car.

“You can smile all you want right now baby,” he mutters, “Gonna wipe that cheeky little grin on your face later when I force your orgasms out of you.”

“Put your hands against the wall,” Jungkook immediately commands after he drags you to his bedroom. He stands tall behind you, watching your poor figure slowly obeying his words. His lips curve up when he studies your body, already trembling in fear. This feeds unto his primal, dominant desires to take over you and ruin you. Your little hands touch the cold walls with your back slightly arched, already knowing what’s about to come.

Jungkook’s dick throbs in just the sight of the combination of your skirt and thigh-highs. He doesn’t hesitate to firmly grasp your ass cheek below the flimsy material with his big hand, causing a whimper to fall off your lips. “Look at this fucking outfit you have,” he muses, “If it weren’t for that sweater you have on, I would’ve said that you look so much like a fucking slut.”

“Jungkook—”

He suddenly blows a hard slap, “That’s not my name. Huh, you really wanna disobey daddy?”

You whimper, “N-No.”

He hikes your skirt up to expose more of your plump ass, landing another harsh spank that caused your body to jolt, eyes fluttering shut from the sting. “No? Isn’t it disrespectful to ignore daddy’s phone-calls?” he hits your ass again, harder, his muscles flexing. “Tell me, what was Jimin doing that he just need to fucking put his hands all over you with his head so fucking close to yours, huh?”

Your eyes instantly start to become glossy from the solid, rough slaps on your tender ass cheeks. Chewing on your bottom lip, you try your best to cover your little sniffs.

Within a quick second, Jungkook flips you around until your back was pressed firmly against the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat. You hitch your breath up from the aggressive behavior, how his eyes were quick to scan your body up and down like a predator. “You’re not gonna answer me?” he scoffs, “Fucking god – you love to make daddy mad, don’t you? Acting like such a bitch.”

Furiously shaking your head side to side, you disagree with his statement. Jungkook is scary when he’s angry – even though it can be seen as hot sometimes – you never want to make him mad on purpose!

“T-That’s not true, daddy!” your bottom lip faintly quivers as your eyes can’t seem to focus on him.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise up, giving you a mocking expression, “Ohh really, baby?” the grip on your throat tightens, making you gasp for air, “You don’t like making me angry? When in fact that I know you like being punished like this. You like daddy manhandling your frail, little body, and letting him ruin it in every possible way. Are you gonna lie and tell me that that isn’t true, hm? ”

You didn’t know what to answer. Your chest heaves up and down in panic while you release a quiet, little mewl in desperation. Jungkook – somehow – finds that adorable; how your big, teary eyes look up at him in utter fear of what’s about to come.

He smirks as he leans down to your height, your faces so close to each other as his lips barely graze against yours. You can feel his hot breath upon you, the warmness of his body resonating. 

With a low, almost gravelly voice, he asks you; “Do you not talk?”

Those words seem awfully familiar…

Gulping nervously, you tremble, “I-I can…”

“You can? Sorry darling, I just needed to make sure because you seem to be silent every time I ask a goddamn question. Now, get on the fucking bed.”

Jungkook watches you scramble and obey his command, the cold mattress rubs against your skin from the air conditioning. He stands at the edge of the bed, watching you with primal eyes. “Undress.”

“W-What?”

“I said what I said. Strip,” he crosses his arms, revealing his toned biceps, “Leave your skirt and stockings on. Remove everything except those.”

You can’t seem to look at his eyes because you were afraid that you were going to melt when you do so. You tug your sweater up, your skin exposing to the air that surrounds the two of you, followed by your bra. Your boyfriend sees your cute hardened nipples, making him smirk a little bit.

“Now your panties, go on.”

Before you can even yank your undergarment down, Jungkook speaks, “Look at me while you do so. You’ve been avoiding my eyes all this time.”

Jungkook barely hears the quiet whimper that emits your mouth while your eyes finally lock onto his. Wanting to tease you furthermore, he sends you a cocky smirk with a quick raise of his brow as you pulled your panties down.

His breath almost hitches up from the sight of you, all naked except those kinky pairs of stockings and skirt. He wonders if you specifically wore them just to tease him, heck, was it even appropriate for your work? Even so, he’s glad that he’s the only person to see you like this, so beautiful and ready to be ruined.

You wonder if he’s going to crawl on the bed with you and touch you, waiting for him to make a move but nothing happens. You look up at him expectantly with wide eyes as your hands timidly fumble with your skirt.

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. Did you hear him correctly? Like... does he really want you to play with yourself right in front of him? You can feel your tummy do backflips from his words while you instantly turn shy once again.

“Fucking hell, is one instruction not enough for that brain of yours to comprehend? I said—,” he leans down to grab your thighs, forcing your legs apart with vigor, exposing your cunt all to his eyes. “—touch yourself.”

You whine when he suddenly crawls on top of you, arms on either side of your figure to support himself up, his face hovering above yours. He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Bring your hand down, little girl, and play with your pussy the way daddy does.”

Without angering him further, you obey and brought your hand down to touch your clit. Jungkook never removes his eye-contact as he watches your face slowly contort in pleasure. With two fingers, you gently circled your clit, making your mouth part open from the meek pleasure. “O-Ohh,” you can feel your wet lips when you dragged your fingers along them.

You feel so embarrassed masturbating in front of him like this. Jungkook chuckles and kneels in front of you, placing his knees in between your spread legs to watch how you play with your cunt. You moan when he finally grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, revealing his toned body for your eyes to see. This encouraged you to rub your clit faster, but it just wasn’t enough.

“Daddy…” you whine, “please...”

Jungkook notices the frown that was beginning to form your lips, but instead of feeling bad, he takes the opportunity to degrade you. “What is it, baby? Hm? Do you even know how to touch your pussy?” he teases, “Do you still fuckin’ need daddy’s help?”

You don’t even care if you look pitiful, shaking your head up and down. “Y-Yes, please touch m-me…” you say with a quiet voice. As you continue to masturbate, Jungkook sees how your body trembles, knowing that it wants more.

But sadly, you look too good in this position that you’re in. Your skirt hiked up to your abdomen while your toes curl in desperation. Jungkook lightly scoffs as he doesn’t hesitate to palm his rock-hard cock through his jeans. “Mmm, I would if you had been a good girl. But daddy wants you to cum with your own fingers, prove to me that you’re a big girl who can fucking cum without my help.”

You release an exasperated groan, arching your back in utter need. Jungkook was cruel to do this to you, as he definitely knows how much you prefer his own fingers on your juicy little pussy.

The sight was boosting his ego, whether he likes it or not. He observes how your cute, middle finger tries to insert itself inside your tight little hole, earning a loud moan from you. Jungkook sees your arousal dripping down from your entrance, the glistering liquid running down to your ass. You were so wet, and he was dying to taste you. Jungkook feels his dominance taking over as his patience was wearing thin, wanting to shove your hands away and just take over. It frustrates him how desperate you make him feel without even trying.

You finger yourself with one hand, as the other continues to rub your clit. You try to remember how Jungkook does it, your mind trying to reminisce his techniques, making you distracted from your own pleasure. It doesn’t even feel half as good as his! You let out a loud, frustrated whine, feeling your eyes well up with tears once again.

“I-I can’t,” you sniff, a tear rolling down your cheek as you try your best to make yourself feel good, “Please, daddy I need y-you!”

Jungkook leans forward as he wipes your tears with his thumb, licking his lips slowly while he watches you with a sensual look. “What do you need from daddy, hm?”

You groan, hating how much he can torture you like this. Your breathing was already unstable and your mind was thinking of ways on how you can make him touch you. “I need your fingers, daddy – please? I can’t cum like this,” you shake your head desperately, “I can’t.”

“Holy fucking shit, I think I need to get a new baby girl. One who knows how to pleasure herself without my help.”

“No!” you yell, closing your eyes as more tears wells up, “N-No! I-I’m sorry I just can’t…”

Jungkook almost feels bad. Almost.

“That’s sad, baby girl. If you can’t cum then don’t try anymore.” He abruptly spanks your inner thigh, leaving you crying for more, “You’ve been a bad girl today and you’ve got to endure your punishment.”

Jungkook tugs your hands away and your pussy clenches from the sour loss. “Keep crying, slut, this is what you deserve.” He stands up from the bed and makes his way to the closet to get something. You obediently lay there with a frown as you wiped your eyes, ogling his broad, muscular back in the meantime.

When he was taking up more time than you wanted, you kicked your legs impatiently while whining.

He smirks, rolling his eyes, “Impatient, I see?” After that, he swiftly turns around to reveal a red-colored rope, dangling it side to side for a little tease.

“What are you g-gonna do with that?” you ask with wide, glossy eyes.

Jungkook walks back to you with that signature sultry yet teasing look, making you anticipate what’s about to come even more.

“Daddy’s gonna tie your hands behind your back until your wrists bruise, little one.”

Your core throbs from the image he paints in your mind, how the rope would probably scratch against your skin, and how turned on he would be from the sight of you struggling. Jungkook motions you to turn around with a little spin of his finger. You kneel, looking away from him while he grabs your wrists together in one hand. The arrogant smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face as he ties the rope around your hands, whimpering when he pulls it tight. 

“Is that too tight baby girl?” he asks, stopping himself from laughing, “Does it hurt?”

You sniff, “A l-little bit.”

“Good. I was actually planning to bind your legs together as well, but I don’t think you can handle that anymore.” He says behind you, “I don’t think your precious body can handle being daddy’s little ropebunny.”

With his words, you turn your head to look at him with a confused expression, “Rope…ropebunny?”

Jungkook chuckles and nods his head once.

“What does that mean, daddy?”

Jungkook’s heart swell, “Means that you’re letting me tie you up, restraint your body with rope – and letting daddy do whatever he fucking wants to you. Bruise your skin until it hurts too much. If maybe you weren’t such a crybaby and a sensitive little bitch then I would’ve done that to you by now.”

He doesn’t let you reply as he gives your ass a loud, stinging spank using the palm of his right hand. You whimper in pain, closing your eyes for a mere second as your mouth parts.

“Head down, ass up. Now.”

You do as you’re told, and not going to lie, your heart was doing backflips from the nervousness and intimidation of the position that you’re in. Your ass and cunt were so exposed, allowing him to see how wet you are. Your cheeks pressed against the sheets, tilted to the side so that you can at least see a portion of his figure behind you. Although you release a loud cry when he suddenly lands a slap directly on your throbbing clit. Your hands instinctively moved to grab onto something, but the rope was preventing them from doing so.

“Daddy—!” He slaps your pussy again, this time harder. He slides his index finger down your wet slick, teasingly prodding against your entrance that causes your arousal to gush.

“God, you’re so fucking noisy. I’d put a gag in that loud mouth of yours to shut you up, but daddy loves your cute whimpers too much.”

You dig your nails onto your palm when Jungkook finally plays with your pussy, using two fingers to gently – barely rub your clit. The tip of his index and middle finger brushes against your throbbing clit, using the slightest bit of pressure. He bites his lip from the way you wiggle your ass, desperate for more. “You can’t even masturbate without my assistance, fucking hell,” he muses, “did it embarrass you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum meekly, grinding your teeth together because you needed more friction, and you were too afraid to tell him.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, “You had to cry like a pathetic little bitch, too.” Without a warning, he easily shoves his middle finger in, making you arch your back painfully, drawing a loud squeal. He starts pumping it in and out at a fast pace. The wet squelching noise that your cunt makes, paired with your moans was music to his ears. “I guess it feels better when daddy plays with your pussy, right slut?”

When you don’t answer immediately, too focused on the pleasure, he inserts two more fingers in – stretching your pussy. You gasp loudly, his long, slender fingers reaching the most intimate places inside of you. Jungkook bites his lip harshly, getting so turned on from your sweet moans and whines. 

“Y-Yeah… yes daddy – oww fuck – it feels much better,” even though your mind was filled in lust and can’t think of anything else but the way he was furiously pumping three fingers in and out of you, you answer him in fear that his punishment will turn way worse. His three fingers were almost too much for your hole to handle, making your hips tremble as it tries to accommodate the girth. 

“Who owns your pussy, hm?” he uses his other unoccupied hand to rub and pinch your clit, providing you with overstimulation of pleasure. His fingers reach deeper until it hits your g-spot, making your toes curl while you once again tear up. He growls, “Who fucking owns you?”

“You!” you moan, vision getting blurry, “You own me d-daddy…” you can already feel yourself coming close to an orgasm – one thing you can’t do with your own fingers. Your stomach tightens and tightens, waiting for your oh-so needed release. You sob onto the sheets, eyes closed in desperation.

“Good thing you know—” but he suddenly pulls his hands away, leaving you shaking and breathless. “This is my cunt and I get to do whatever I want with it.”

“No!” you groan in frustration from the denied orgasm, eyebrows furrowing as your legs shake, “Fuck y-you.”

Jungkook’s ears pick up the words you muttered.

“What was that?” He roughly wraps his hand around your neck and forces your upper body to lift up. You start to panic as Jungkook chokes you, “What the fuck did you say, hm? Getting fucking bold today, aren’t we?”

“S-Sorry,” you stutter, not having the courage to speak. You didn’t mean to say that at all! You were just frustrated and the words slipped out without realizing it! He sees a droplet of tear dripping down your cheek and he rolls his eyes.

“What a bratty, disobedient little fucktoy.” Jungkook quickly stands up to unbutton his jeans and pulls it down, leaving himself in his underwear. “You’re not the good girl that I know.” He hops back on the bed with you and moves so that he kneels in front of you. He holds your face up with one hand on your jaw as the other pulls his boxers down. Your mouth waters from the sight of his cock springing out, the angry red tip hitting your cheek.

“If I stuff my cock down your throat then maybe you’d shut the fuck up, learn your lesson, and think before you speak. Huh, slut?” He strokes his length a few times, letting his precum lube his cock.

He nudges the tip against your lips, signaling you to open your mouth. He releases a long, guttural moan when you wrap your lips around him as he pushes his length further and further, your mouth feeling so warm and wet. Jungkook initiates the pace as he starts to rock his hips steadily. A sudden gush of tears escapes your eyes when he shoves past your gag reflex, whining as your throat struggles to take in his big cock. 

“Choke.”

Jungkook doesn’t wipe the tears off of your face like he used to, this time letting them flow and drip down your jaw. Your pussy clenches every time he thrusts forwards, feeling yourself get wetter and more aroused from the noises he makes. He twitches whenever your throat contracts, feeling it tighten and squeezes his cock so good.

“Do you like this, baby girl?” he smiles sadistically, “You like being throat fucked?” Jungkook knows you can’t answer so he continues to torment you, “I like you better when your mouth is stuffed with daddy’s cock. Much more useful than being an undisciplined, rude slut.”

You shut your eyes while you slack your jaw, trying to take all of him the best that you can. He grabs a bunch of your hair, pulling at your scalp, the pain making you kick your legs repeatedly. While he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out, Jungkook watches how your saliva drips down from to your chin that makes a whole mess of your face.

Jungkook finally gains some sort of empathy, pulling his dick out to let you breathe. You emit a harsh, rugged exhale. He lowers himself until his face was directly parallel to yours, “Why was he touching you like that?” His eyes scans your poor, messy self, eyes puffy with your hair all over the place. 

You sniff, “He’s just a f-friend!”

He wipes the saliva on the corner of your mouth using his thumb, “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Hm? Doesn’t he know that you’re mine? Even if he’s your goddamn friend, he doesn’t need to touch you like that.” His voice somehow turned soft, a bit more like his natural talking voice. He shakes his head whilst staring directly at your weary eyes, “And what if I wasn’t there, huh? What if he did something to you that I wouldn’t like?”

“Are…” you tilt your head, trying to lighten up the situation in hopes that he’ll go easy on you. You start to giggle, “Are you jealous, daddy?”

You didn’t know that it was a bad move until his face immediately hardens, raising an eyebrow up. He scoffs, “You think I would be punishing you like this if your actions took a toll on me, Y/n?” he stands up from the bed and walks over to the bedside table, opening the drawer, “Lay on your tummy. I won’t say it again.”

Jungkook grabs the remote control vibrator from the box of toys the two of you had been collecting. You certainly love your toys, he knows that, but it’s a completely different situation if he uses them to torture you. It’s better for him that you can’t see what he’s doing, bringing your anticipations up for what’s about to come. He turns the toy on, your breath immediately hitching when you hear the buzzing sound. The hot pink, egg-like looking toy with a slender tail vibrates against his palm.

“Daddy? Wha…what are you gonna do with tha—” Your words painfully got cut off when he plunges the toy inside your pussy, the vibrations instantly resonating throughout your core and lower abdomen. You sobbed loudly, the rope tightening around your wrists whenever you tried to struggle away. “Oh my god!” your back arches, feeling your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “Daddy!”

He walks to the other side of the room to go sit on the plush loveseat, twiddling with the remote on his right hand. He doesn’t hesitate to crank the setting up, noticing how your ass trembles and wiggles. Your mouth drops open while you feel an immense tingling sensation down there, moaning and shuddering on the bed. 

Jungkook wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump slowly, observing how your cute little figure trembles and makes a mess of the sheets. He notices the way your pussy clenches around the toy so tightly, and how your cunt never stopped dripping in arousal. 

He teases his swollen tip with his thumb as he turns the toy’s setting up another notch. The smirk grows on his face from the noises you make. He was addicted to the sight of you right now; your hips shuddering as you try to escape all of the vast ecstasy, the stockings you wear making you look as adorable as ever – if he had a camera he would definitely take a picture of you.

“Daddy, p-please – I’m gonna cum!” you sob, chewing on your swollen bottom lip. That was his cue to put the setting to the highest level. Within a flash, your spill your cum down your pussy and onto the bed, ruining the sheets as your body contorts, hands balling into tight fists. Your orgasm feels like you gushed a whole waterfall, cumming so hard while your hips involuntarily lifts up off of the bed. 

He continues to fuck his hand, staring at your sweaty, hot body with hooded eyes while he groans darkly. His cock was rock solid and was also begging for a release, but he knows to control himself. Jungkook hears your sobs get louder and louder, knowing that the overstimulation was too much for you to handle.

He stands up and crawls back with you on the bed, his warm hands starting to caress your inner thighs.

“Da—” you cry, “daddy… t-too much…”

“Yeah?” he smirks before lifting your ass up until he was directly in front of your cunt. he smells your arousal and it caused shivers to run down his back. Without holding back, he wraps his mouth around your throbbing clit and starts to suck harshly on it. 

Jungkook was absolutely nasty to do this to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his tongue swirl around your bud, flicking and sucking at the same time. You can’t even comprehend the pain and pleasure that as going through your body right now, for it was all too much. “A-Aawwh shit,” you breathe, “D-Daddy, I can’t... oh m-my god!” 

The combination of the powerful buzzing vibrator inside you, plus his mouth on your clit caused another strong climax to wash throughout your system. You flail your arms behind your back as your body can’t seem to keep still. Jungkook holds your hips in place as he licks your pussy clean of your cum. He grunts from the way your legs were quivering after forcing another orgasm out of you. 

“Taste so fuckin’ delicious,” he says after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “What a good little pussy.” 

Finally, he pulls on the tail and the toy plops out with a wet sound. Though your chest doesn’t stop heaving up and down, your system is still riled up from the strong orgasms you just had.

“What will you say, baby girl, hm?”

You perk your head up from the sudden question. Your mind quickly wanders for an answer but was quickly distracted when you feel him squeeze your tender ass cheeks. 

Leaning down to your ear, he whispers with an awful smirk, “Say ‘thank you daddy’.” His monotone voice sent shivers all throughout your body, “Say thank you for letting you cum. I would’ve stopped the toy and edged you when you were about to orgasm to further your punishment, but glad I didn’t, right baby?”

“Thank…” your cheeks start to heat up, “Thank you for l-letting me cum, daddy.”

“Mm, good girl. I just had to get a taste of your sweet cunt after seeing you shake and tremble like that. Such a good, pretty little girl.” 

He was actually supposed to reward you after this. That was just his initial plan, until he is distracted by your phone suddenly ringing from the other side of the room. He quirks a brow up and starts heading to where your bag was placed, rummaging through it to get the device that interrupted the moment.

He reads the caller ID.  

Jungkook is dead quiet as he reaches back to you until he takes a seat on your thighs. His silence further builds up your anxiousness, your gut twisting and turning after you hear him groan underneath his breath. “Daddy?” whispering, you tilt your head to the side to figure out what he was doing.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you picked up the phone,” Jimin speaks in a rush, “I was so worried about what happened. Are you and Jungkook okay?” He rolls his eyes and doesn’t hesitate to put the phone on loudspeaker, placing the device in front of you so that you can see who was calling.

Jimin’s voice unsettled you, leaving your body in a state of shock, humiliation, and awkwardness. You furiously shake your head, lips pursed in a straight, pungent line – making it known to Jungkook that you didn’t want to talk to him. Why can’t he just hang up?!

“Hello? Y/n?” As Jimin worries from the other side of the line, you quietly mewl when you feel him poking the tip of his dick right up against your dripping wet entrance, sliding the head up and down your soaked slit slowly to torture you. “Answer him,” Jungkook growls from behind, “Talk to him as I fuck your tight little pussy.”

“Y/n, do you hear me?” Jimin asks once again, and this time you pick up the courage to reply.

“Y-Yeah,” your voice strains, closing your eyes as you try your best not to moan out loud as Jungkook pushes the head in, feeling your walls flutter around his thick girth. “I hear – oohh – I hear you.”

While inching his cock further and further, he grasps your bounded wrists in one hand, as the other firmly holds onto your waist. He struggles to keep quiet, only releasing quick little grunts here and there as he slowly thrusts his hips. Your body squirms from the humiliating situation he has put you through, yet he holds you down.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier,” You notice the sad tone in Jimin’s voice, “I really didn’t mean to touch you like that, and I should’ve known better. You’re taken.”

“M-Mhmm—!” Jungkook shoves his length deeper and deeper, hit tip hitting your g-spot again and again, rougher and harder with each sharp thrust. Your eyes generate more tears, definitely making your nose a little bit stuffy while you struggle to breathe properly. Jungkook groans underneath his breath from how tight your pussy is after being teased and tortured.

Jimin continues with his apology, saying that he wants to personally apologize to Jungkook – but you weren’t listening anymore. You can’t! His words were going in one ear and out of the other because your mind only focuses on how his big, thick cock was tearing your cunt apart. With each outward stroke, your pussy keeps sucking him back in. He smirks from the way your pussy was gushing your arousal endlessly, soaking the sheets and making a mess of yourself.

As if everything can’t be humiliating enough, Jungkook blows a hard, loud spank on your ass, definitely not caring if it can be heard from the other end of the call. Gasping, you mewl from the stinging sensation but also worried if Jimin heard. Jungkook laughs menacingly, spanking your ass again.

“Y-Y/n?” Jimin says slowly, “What’s happening over there?”

“Nothing! I’m o-okay – mmngg shit,” your jaw drops when he fucks you faster and rougher all of the sudden, his balls starting to clap against your poor, throbbing clit. Jungkook feels impatient so he takes the phone back, puts it against his ear, and speaks for you. “Jimin!” he greets happily as if he’s not pounding your pussy until you break, “Don’t worry about Y/n, she’s doing just great.”

How can he talk so steadily like that? Your teeth sink down on your bruised bottom lip again to stop you from moaning too loud. “But I’m trusting you, Jimin, not to touch my girl like that again, okay? I know you two are friends, sure – but there’s a limit. She has a boyfriend now.”

The possessiveness in his voice turns you on so much, not even expecting such a dark tone as he talks to him like that. Your arms start to hurt after being tied for too long, wrists getting sensitive as it keeps scratching against the rope.

“Yeah, okay, goodbye.” He finally hangs up, throws your phone somewhere on the floor. After that, he firmly grips your waist and changes your position with ease. He sits down on the bed, flips you around to make you straddle his cock.

His breath almost gets stuck in his throat from the way you looked. His hands immediately flies to cup your head, thumbs wiping your tears away from your cheeks as you look down at his with lustful eyes. “Baby girl,” he whispers, eyes raking your body up and down while you don’t stop bouncing on his cock, “Keep crying. I wanna see you get ruined on my big cock.”

He pulls you closer by wrapping his right hand around your neck, squeezing tightly, as his other hand guides your hips up and down. Your hard nipples slightly graze against his chest, adding more pleasure than you already can take.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” you grit, eyes drooping, “I’m gonna fucking cum again, daddy.”

He chuckles and nods his head. He can’t stay angry at you for too long. He can’t wait to provide you the aftercare that you deserve after this. He helps you to your orgasm by meeting your thrusts, fucking his cock into you while he brings a hand down to rub your clit with vigor. Your moans were getting louder, higher in pitch, as you can feel the oh-so-familiar tightness in your stomach again. You throw your head back, hands trying to pry themselves out of the rope. Thankfully, he gives you the benefit of the doubt and finally starts undoing the knot, unwrapping your wrists so that they can finally be set free. “Here you go princess,” he groans, “Ah ah, keep your arms still.”

Within a second of your hands being free, you quickly hug his sweaty body so tightly, pressing your cheeks against his shoulder, not only to have something to hold onto but to feel his comfort after a long time of being suppressed and denied from it. Jungkook laughs and kisses your shoulder, “I love you, Y/n.”

“Love y-you— awh god, thatfeelssogood!”

“Yeah?” he bites his lip, feeling the urge to tease you with his words for the hundredth time, “How good?” He attaches his mouth on your damp neck, sucking and biting on all of the sweet and tender spots that he knows you love. Trailing kisses all over, you were certain that he’ll leave marks all over your skin. Your body shivers when he uses his teeth to bite down on you, adding more to the buildup of your climax. “So g-good, daddy,” you whine, bouncing up and down harder, “Your big cock f-feels…feels so good inside my tight fucking pussy, daddy.”

Jungkook’s cock throbs from your unexpected words, gasping a little with a cocky smirk, “Mmm, when did you learn how to talk like that, huh?” a spank lands on your right, tender ass cheek, “Such lewd words coming out of that pretty mouth.”

Your mind starts to feel dizzy, almost to the edge of blacking out as your orgasm overpowers your body. He grunts from the way your walls were clenching around him so firmly, using his dick to your own good. Wrapping his arms around you tighter, he forces you to stay still on his cock while letting you ride out your high. “There we go, baby, there we go. Cum for me,” he insinuates, “Fucking hell, such a good, pretty girl for daddy.” He lifts your chin up with one hand, trying your best to make eye-contact with him but your tearful eyes feel too heavy. “Cumming so hard, oh my fucking god darling.”

Almost seeing black and white spots, your mind goes into a frenzy for you have no thoughts but the overwhelming sensation of your climax taking over your body. Jungkook moans as he lays you back down on the bed, bringing himself to his high. With your body shivering from the high sensitivity, Jungkook doesn’t stop.

His thrusts were sloppy and his pace becomes unsteady, moans getting louder. His body tenses and goes still inside of you, trapping your small body in his as he blows his load. He fills your cunt up with his cum, painting your walls in his seed. You can feel him twitch while you claw your hands on his back, trembling.

Jungkook mutters a series of curse words as your pussy squeezes his cock so hard, milking him properly until the very last drop of cum. After a little while, he pulls his dick out and he sees his cum leaking out of your pulsating little hole and dripping onto the bed. Licking his lips from the hot sight, he caresses your inner thighs as he tries to calm you down.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. Deep, slow breaths for me.” He hovers back on top of you as he places his right arm underneath your head for support, his other hand gently stroking your side. All the anger, all the controlling and dominating aura that he previously had ten seconds ago immediately fades as he takes the role to comfort you the best that he can. He wipes your cheeks clean with the back of his hand, almost looking down at you with a slight pout. “Baby girl, look at me, hm?” Jungkook whispers gently, “Look at me.”

Once you do so, he feels himself almost collapsing from the poor, worn-out look that was embedded on your little face. “Oh, sweetie,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, still breathless, “Don’t say…”

“I should’ve, fuck—” Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay, feeling almost frustrated in himself, “I should’ve fucking stopped, look at you baby.” He holds your hand, gives your bruised wrist a wet, long kiss.

“Kook, I’m okay,” you giggle, a hint of tiredness in your voice, “I l-loved it.”

“Are you sure? Baby girl do you remember what I told you? If you ever feel too uncomfortable, or pain that you couldn’t bear anymore, or if you just want me to stop completely, what will you say?”

Perhaps this was one of the best things you love about Jungkook. His duality. One minute he’s rough and would dominate the fuck out of you, and the next minute he’s treating you like his princess.

“I’ll say my safe word.”

“Good,” he kisses your lips once, smiling down at you, “always remember that.”

You were awfully thankful that he’s the type to always shower you in kisses after a whole round of sex. Always caring about your well-being, that’s what he loves to do. Jungkook has cleaned himself in the bathroom first before he can handle and take care of you. He comes out of the bathroom dressed only with a pair of gray sweatpants with a damp towel and one of his t-shirt in his hand.

Kneeling before you on the bed, he starts to gently wipe your inner thighs and genitalia with the cloth. It was ticklish on the spot of your inner thighs, releasing a giggle as you try to move away from him. He smirks, grasping your leg down. “Tickles?” he grins at you.

“Turn around, little one. Let me massage your back.”

Your heart beats happily at that. But once you followed his command, his eyes immediately fly down to your ass. He hikes up the skirt that you still had on a bit higher, and he sees his handprints imprinted on your precious, delicate skin. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. Your body twitches when he carefully lays a hand down. “Sorry for this, little one. Guess you aren’t sitting for a couple of days, huh?”

Hiding your face in your arms, you quietly squeal, his words having an effect on you. “I g-guess so.”

Jungkook proceeds with his mission to massage your back, using his big hands to his advantage to knead your skin with just the right amount of pressure, massaging your arms and shoulders, pressing down on your lower back. Little groans emit from your mouth, enjoying the warmth of his hands. Your eyes eventually close, feeling that you were eventually going to fall asleep from how relaxing it is.

“Want some tea, darling?” he asks.

“Mm, no thank you. I’m a little sleepy…”

Your mouth curves up into a grin when he starts peppering kisses all over your back as well, moving your hair to one side. Jungkook, too, was smiling. He can’t even figure out how he got so lucky with you.

“You wanna nap, Y/n?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay, let’s get you in this shirt first. C’mon sweetie, flip back around for me.”

He holds onto the hem of your skirt and tugs it down, throwing it somewhere on the floor. His shirt reaches almost on your knee after slipping it on. Soon, he lays down beside you and starts spooning your body. It was easy for him to enclose yourself in his warmth, for his limbs were obviously bigger than yours. “Let’s take a rest and clean everything up later, okay?”

Although you didn’t reply.

“Baby?” he tilts your head to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Kook, I-uh…I wanna say sorry for what happened earlier—”

“Shh, shh, settle down now, sweetheart. I’m not angry about that anymore,” he gives you a beaming smile, his dimples peeking through. Oh, to swim in someone’s dimples…

“Don’t worry about it. I love you, Y/n. More than this fucking world.”

“Impossible!” giggling, you eventually squirm around him because you know for a fact that he’ll hug you tighter.

He did.

“Nothing’s impossible when you’re mine – my girl.”

God, you can never take a break with him and his impeccable word choices. You feel your cheeks heat up, shying away from him that caused him to laugh in amusement a little.

“I love you too, Kook,” your heart says genuinely. Jungkook pulls you closer and makes you rest your head on his arm. “Cozy? Let’s take a rest, baby. You’ve had a long day today, you did well. You might be sore afterwards but I’ll be right here when you wake up.”  The only thing you can remember after that was the gentle kiss he placed on your cheek, and the feeling of love and comfort in the air that encloses both of you. 

“You know, Jungkook,” Taehyung speaks while munching on his Cap’n Crunch cereal, watching Jungkook come back to their apartment after driving you back to your own building. “You’re fucking lucky I was out partying. If not I would’ve…” Jungkook rolls his eyes when Taehyung fakes a gagging sound, “I w-would’ve thrown up hearing the two of you.”

“Funny,” he says blandly while heading towards the cupboards to make himself his own bowl of cereal.

Taehyung walks to his side, “Aren’t you and Y/n together for almost a year now? I don’t know much about relationships, but don’t you think it’s time for you guys to have a place of your own?”

Jungkook chuckles, heading towards the living room as he sits on the old green couch with his cereal on one hand. “So you’re kicking me out, Tae?”

“Well yeah, maybe I am, asshole.”

The youngest abruptly turns his head to him with a look of confusion, “Wait, really?”

Taehyung smirks, “Yup! I’m sick of you bringing Y/n here just to fuck, and not even let her hang out with me!”

Hang out with him? Since when was Taehyung interested in her? After a little moment of silence, Jungkook finally thinks of a reply, “What do you even wanna do with her? Also most of the time you’re either out getting drunk or locking yourself up in your room playing video games.”

“Threesome.”

Jungkook almost spits out the mouthful of milk and cereal.

“What the fuck—”

“Let’s have a threesome together.”

“No fucking way, bro.” Jungkook scoffs, pointing a finger at him, “We are not doing that.”

Taehyung was having the time of his life teasing Jungkook. He stands up in front of him, blocking his view of the TV. “I’m not having a threesome just to see you naked, cunt,” slowly, his mouth forms a smirk, “I wanna see Y/n nak—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that, Taehyung. I’m not fucking joking around.”

“Okay, shit, chill man,” he laughs, watching how Jungkook rolls his eyes. “And here I am thinking that you’re kinky and open-minded.”

Taehyung just loves to get into his nerves.

“I am,” Jungkook says in all seriousness, looking directly at his eyes. “But you know how I am with her. How selfish I can be. Other people will be fine with this, sure, but her body is for my eyes only, Tae. You can fuck anyone you like but not my girl.”

Taehyung sighs, walking away as he throws his hand in the air, “Fine, fine, whatever.”

Jungkook crosses his legs together, leaning back into the couch as he closes his eyes. The fact that he just had to put that image into his mind – someone else fucking his girl – he just can’t do it. He can be too possessive of your body and he wants it only for him.

“But if your girl ever wants two cocks to play with one day, hit me up.”

“If she wants two cocks then we’ll use a fucking dildo. Shut your ass up or else I’m gonna beat the fuck outta you,” Jungkook warns with a menacing chuckle.

Although Taehyung isn’t bothered by it, he fakes being frightened, “Oooohh, scary! Don’t hit me daddy!”

“Yep, that’s it.” Jungkook places the bowl down on the couch before abruptly standing up. Taehyung runs away while laughing like a madman with Jungkook following behind him. His roommate ends up locking himself inside his room where Jungkook can’t come in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He says in the middle of laughter.

“You’re fucking hideous, you know that?” Jungkook crosses his arms.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jeon.”

When Jungkook turned nineteen, he remembered asking his mother when a man should introduce his girlfriend to his parents.

His mother, heart filled with genuine compassion, replied with; “When you are fully committed, and when you know for a fact that you will be spending the rest of your life with her – that’s when you let her eat at our table. So be very mindful of your feelings, Jungkookie. Remember this when you grow up, alright? I know you didn’t believe in long-lasting love when you were younger, but trust me when I say that it truly depends on the person.”

It was clear that Jungkook’s romantic side definitely came from his parents.

And fast-forward to the present, here you are sitting at their dining table, meeting his parents for the very first time. 

“So, Y/n,” Jungkook’s mother beams from the other side of the table while passing her husband more rice for his bibimbap, “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“Mom,” Jungkook chuckles, “Haven’t I told you that a hundred times already?”

You blush from his words, trying your best not to look down in shyness. Though you feel your boyfriend’s right hand rests on your knee to ease you up.

“I know! But I just want to hear it from Y/n’s point of view! Who knows, you might be hiding some details!”

Before you can speak, his dad talks before you, “I was actually there at the time,” he smiles at you, “I think you should thank me for making Jungkook talk to you!”

“Hun, please let Y/n talk—”

Jungkook grins, “I think I would’ve talked to Y/n whether or not you told me so, dad.”

“Let the girl talk!” his mom balls her hand into a fist and pounds on the table.       

You busted out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth as you shook your head in disbelief. You’ve never encountered such a fun, happy family like this. This was your first time being introduced to someone’s parents, and truthfully, you wanted them to be your last.

“So, um,” you take a glance at Jungkook before continuing as if asking for permission first. He smiles down at you and nods his head, feeling his hand squeeze your knee. “Jeon’s Kitchen was actually a favorite place of mine! And of course, it’s still is—” you beam at his father, “It was raining very hard so I decided to stop by to eat some food before work.”

“Brown coffee and banana bread, yep, I remember that!” His dad proudly says.

“That’s correct, Mr. Jeon,” you giggle, “I sat alone and waited for the order until Jungkook here suddenly bursts into the café, all drenched from the rain!” You turn your gaze at him with creased eyes from the way you were smiling as you talk, “If I remember correctly, his car broke down and he had nothing to do, so he decided to help Mr. Jeon with work, is that right?”

Jungkook responds with a hum, staring amusingly into your glimmering eyes that were full of love.

“Until Mr. Jeon told Jungkook to keep me company! So yeah, that’s where we started talking.”

Of course, you had to leave out the fact that you had such an intimidating first impression of their son. You recall how hard his stare was as he talked to you, and how he literally made you blush so easily just by his handsome smirk (that until now you couldn’t get used to!). He carried such a strong aura, even up to this day.

“After that, well, we exchanged numbers and everything went from there!”

Before Jungkook drove you to his parent’s house so that they can finally meet you, you were an absolute nervous wreck. Overthinking that what if you say something embarrassing? What if you humiliate yourself in front of them? You were driven to have a good impression on them, which Jungkook founded adorable. Of course, he reassured you, saying, “They already love you from all of the stories I’ve told, baby.”  

And he was right. His parents never would’ve thought that a girl like you would walk into his life. You’re a blessing for their son.

Jungkook doesn’t sway his eyes off of you as you continue to chat with his parents, telling them your goals and dreams for the future. He watches the way your mouth tilts into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, lips tinted with lipstick that was just begging to be kissed. He also catches the way your head slightly tilts as you talk, oh – he can’t forget how your knees were nervously jumping! With his hand slowly caressing your knee up to your thigh, he reminds you to calm down.

His breath hitches up a slight bit when you unexpectedly hold his hand under the table. He feels how cold your hand was so it was good for you to take his own warmth. Using his thumb, he strokes your skin delicately, and you instantly feel much better.

When the time is right and when he garners enough money, he will buy a house for the two of you. It doesn’t have to be fancy or anything elegant, but enough to keep you happy and contented – he knows you’ll understand that. Needless to say, he’s excited about the future he’s going to have with you. His mind wanders to the point of your first anniversary, the second anniversary, even up until marriage and having kids. It’s a huge stretch, yes, but he’d rather spend his life alone than without you. 

If his past self can read his mind right now, he’d definitely laugh.

He can’t wait to live his whole life with you by his side. You already have all the qualities he’s been looking in a person, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to leave you anytime soon. 

His mother’s voice cracks him from his thoughts, “Y/n’s such a pretty girl. So amusing to look at, too!” She gawks at you with excited, wide eyes. Her eyes reminded you of Jungkook, the same big and round ones, “Next time when you come to visit us, let me teach you my signature shrimp fried rice recipe, okay? Are you allergic to shrimp, Y/n?”

“Nope! I love shrimp!”

“That’s great!” his mom claps, “Jungkook, thanks for bringing Y/n here with us. She’s so wonderful.”

Shaking your head, you try to take her compliments as much as you can but of course, your bashfulness takes over.

Your boyfriend removes his hand from yours, only lifts it up so that his arm can rest at the backrest of the chair while he starts to stroke your head lovingly. The corners of his lips tilts up to form a smile, he feels as if fireworks were going off of his whole body, for he was so in love with you. How can a person love someone this much? 

He mutters the next sentence underneath his breath, thus only he and his pounding heart can hear; “That’s my girl.”

The End.

Thank you so much for all of the amazing support for Crybaby! I never expected so much love and anticipation in the first place. I wrote Crybaby without any serious plot with a ‘tragedy/problem’ in mind, for it was only supposed to be a oneshot haha! Crybaby was mainly about the fact that Jungkook has dacryphilia and that’s it. But thanks to the support I’ve gotten, I made a part two and three! It’s sorta sad to end this series because I know a lot of people (including me) love this couple soo much! But they’ll make an appearance in short drabbles or even kinky hours. I’m sorry for the sudden ending, but this will not be the end for them!

Please tell me what you think by commenting or sending an ask, I really love to read your reactions!

Please stay safe, especially in these times. Remember that you are loved, and please be happy. I love you!

[caramellohigh]

juyeon x reader

genre: (eventual) smut, fluff, (might have?) angst, university!au, fwb 👀

warning/s: none

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: if there is one thing Juyeon doesn’t like about himself, it’s that he’s a nice guy. it’s… strange.

because why would he feel that way when it’s not something to dislike? what about it has Juyeon perpetually annoyed just hearing it in the same sentence as his name?

perhaps it’s because Juyeon doesn’t want to be just a nice guy. perhaps it’s because… he isn’t.

a/n: yikes…

(are you guys interested in being part of a taglist for this? someone asked so i'll be tagging them for the rest of the chapters, anyone else?)

Chapter 2 | Intention

“I can’t believe we’re banned from the uni library,” Kevin pouts, plopping his butt on the chair opposite you and setting his bag down at the foot of the table. You flash him the most sarcastic smile you could muster, “And that’s all thanks to you and your big mouth!”

Settling on your own chair, your lips flattening into a displeased line and you make sure to shoot him a scowl before you take your study materials out. He sinks into his seat, arms defensively crossed over his chest, “Well, I’m sorry! Why didn’t you just tell me right away that you didn’t sleep with Juyeon?! I--”

“Hey, guys!”

Your eyes almost pop out of their own sockets when you hear the familiar voice, your best friend staring at you with the exact same expression. “H-Hey, Juyeon!” Kevin tries to act normal but the shake in his voice and the awkward laugh he pairs it with is doing anything but. You silently sigh to yourself, refusing to look at Juyeon who’s now standing right next to you. “What-- What’re you doing here?”

Juyeon blinks in confusion and looks down at his uniform. “I work here,” he replies anyway, smiling a polite smile when Kevin realizes just then and gets a tad bit embarrassed, “Right… But aren’t you loaded this semester? How’re you finding the time?”

Juyeon purses his lips in thought, glancing at you as you mindlessly play with a pen between your fingers, eyes only looking at Kevin as if he isn’t there. “I sort of am, I guess? But I don’t know. I just wanted to help my parents out with the rent and stuff.” Kevin slowly nods in understanding, “That’s really nice of you but like… How are you still sane?”

Oh god, when will Kevin ever learn how to shut up?

“Kevin…” you warn him gently, a subtle shake of your head telling him that he can stop talking now. Thankfully, he gets the hint this time. “Heh, sorry! Forget what I said… Uhh-- Uhm-- Yeah, maybe you should go back to work? They might be looking for you. We have to start studying too so...”

You have not once looked at Juyeon this entire time and you can feel his stare burning holes at the top of your head, only looking away when Kevin’s words register in his brain. His brows furrow, “You guys are here to study? Don’t you usually just go to the library?”

Kevin scratches the back of his head and chuckles guiltily, “Yeah, uhm... We got banned.” You glare at Kevin for the nth time today and he shrinks back in his chair again. “My fault…” he admits, “I was making a little bit of noise last--”

“A little bit?!” You and Kevin send daggers at each other with your eyes while Juyeon just smiles, soft eyes gravitativing back to you. “Well, that’s okay. If you study here often, I’ll get you free stuff!” Your best friend immediately stares up at Juyeon with bright, excited eyes, “For real?!”

You could only sigh. For the first time since he came to your table, you finally decided to give him your attention. You angle your body towards him and look up to meet his eyes. “Juyeon,” you say softly, tentatively almost, like you’re testing out how it feels to have his name rolling off your tongue.

His eyes bore into yours, his lips slightly parted and body frozen. You don’t notice it though. “Don’t,” You shake your head, “You might get in trouble or something.” He blinks back into his senses at your small frown. Then he chuckles, a deep rumbling sound that you never thought you’d hear from him.

It’s an amused chuckle, a charming, almost flirty one that only makes guys like him all the more attractive. He fiddles with the rag in his hand, your eyes unconsciously following the movement and eventually focusing on his big hands and veiny forearms.

A white button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows... Why is that so annoyingly hot? Especially on him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he assures you, making you fix your gaze back up to his face, which you almost wish you didn’t.

“I’m the boss’ favorite,” he winks, a miniscule smirk pulling at the corner of his lip. You want to fucking scream. From his deep chuckle to this tiny smirk, what the actual fuck? Who is this guy and what has he done to Lee Juyeon?

As you dumbly stare up at Juyeon who suddenly looks ten times more attractive than usual, you can feel Kevin’s own stare piercing right through you, a familiar shit-eating grin already plastered on his stupid face that you can see right on your periphery. Sighing in defeat, you finally look away, “Sure… Okay.”

Being behind on nearly half your classes, you find yourself spending an awful amount of time at Cafe Oasis to try and catch up. It’s not as sufficient as the library considering it isn’t always peaceful and quiet around. You also don’t have access to all the reference material you need but it works for now. Besides, you have free drinks and snacks here.

You’ve said this multiple times before and you’ll very much say it again: Juyeon is too nice for his own good. He not only kept his word about giving you free stuff if you come often but also went out of his way to take care of you and Kevin whenever you came by. He checks in on you guys when there aren't many customers around or simply sits down with you during his break to talk.

Every time you feel like your head would explode from too much information, he always seems to notice, sending over drinks and treats that he asks his co-workers to give, sometimes delivering them himself with cute encouraging messages scribbled on a sticky note attached to it.

Kevin always brightens up the moment he gets them, thanking him profusely every single time while you shyly accept yours and mumble your gratitude. You will never understand why he does this, why he’s so fucking nice to you (because you’re not quite sure if you deserve it) but still, the gesture does put a smile on your face.

“Juyeon,” you chuckle, shaking your head as he sets your new favorite drink on the table. Your fingers lightly trace the edge of the sticky note he’s attached to the cup, the tips of your lips curling upwards at the familiar handwriting. “Thank you, but don’t you think you’re going to get this place bankrupt if you keep giving us free drinks? And desserts?”

He only smiles at you, a plate of a warm blueberry muffin placed right next to your drink. “Well…” he tucks his tray under his arm and shrugs, “They’re not all free.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, his smile morphing into a playful smirk at your furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

Another shrug of his broad shoulders. “Some might be on me,” is what he says right before he walks off, leaving you blinking in surprise upon the realization. He’s already back behind the counter taking orders by the time you turn to look at him and you find yourself just staring at him over your shoulder.

His voice is so gentle when he speaks to the customers, ever so polite and accommodating with his friendly smiles and crescent eyes. His grown out fringe keeps getting into his eyes and you find it oddly endearing when he flicks his head or swipes his forefinger over it. Somewhere deep down inside you is this strong urge to brush it back with your own fingers.

Unconsciously, you start nibbling at your bottom lip, eyes still very much trained on Juyeon and his every single move. “You’re drooling…” Kevin says the moment he’s within earshot, making you snap out of the weird trance you’re in, eyes automatically turning to slits.

“Am not!” you grumble belatedly as he makes his way to his designated seat opposite you. He repeats your words back to you in a mocking tone, earning himself a kick from under the table. You ignore his groaning and instead ask, “Why’re you late? This is like the third time this week?” Kevin dramatically slumps over the table.

“Ugh, I know! Mr. Hwang’s apparently notorious for holding his class much longer than the intended time. We had no clue until he took over.”

“Yikes, what happened to Sir Cha?”

“He said he was handling too many classes so he had to drop some. I mean, no wonder he was always late. His class right before ours is in an entirely different building!”

While Kevin takes out his study materials and rants about the sudden change their class had to go through, one of Juyeon’s co-workers brings over a drink and a muffin. Kevin stops mid-sentence and claps his hands, “My fave! Oh my god, thank you so much!” Then, he turns to Juyeon, mouthing his thanks as well.

You can’t help but do the same, turning to a smiling Juyeon who’s holding his thumb up as a response. He catches your gaze easily, attention shifting to you as he mouths, “Eat.” And even gestures with his hand. You unknowingly giggle to yourself and nod at him. “Jeez,” Kevin sighs exaggeratedly.

“Right in front of my lemon blueberry muffin with crumb topping?!”

“Oh, shut up!”

For several days now, you’ve been working pretty hard on your studies. And that’s a surprise to both you and Kevin since the last time you were ever like this was at the beginning of high school. He kept saying this was too good to be true and he only proves himself right when you decided to give yourself a little treat last night and became black out drunk.

You had absolutely no clue how you even survived but what’s important is that you made it home unscathed and even managed to show up to school… even if you are hungover… perhaps for the nth time in just this one semester.

You thought the worst possible thing that could happen today was a light scolding from Kevin but you then find out that your jackass of a professor moved your deadline at the last fucking minute. So now you’re at Oasis, scrambling to finish a paper due this afternoon.

God, you want to throw up. But you’re not sure if that’s your body trying to get rid of the leftover alcohol lingering in your system or if it's the anxiousness and pressure of possibly failing if you don’t finish in time twisting your gut. You whimper at the mere thought of it.

Your head is still aching, making it difficult for you to even think straight right now but then you start shivering. You stop your intense typing to pull your cardigan tighter around you, feeling extremely cold for no apparent reason. It’s literally spring but you’re shivering as if it’s winter.

Rubbing your arms up and down to provide yourself with some type of warmth, you look back at the entrance of the cafe. Where the fuck is Kevin? Is Mr. Hwang holding his class captive again? Fuck. You’re sick and you don’t have your beloved best friend around to serve you. A pout makes its way to your lips and you sniffle.

You have no choice but to suck it up for now and just try to get your paper over with. You’re staring blankly at your screen when Juyeon suddenly sits at the spot Kevin is supposed to be. A worried look immediately etches itself on his face when his eyes search yours, “Hey, are you sick?” His voice is barely above a whisper, soft and gentle, and dripping with concern.

You blink in surprise. Because how the fuck did he know? You only greeted each other once and with the amount of customers right now, you’re sure he’s too busy running around the cafe to even pay attention to you. You don’t say anything for a moment but even if you try to deny it, there’s no point when he reaches his hand over to check your temperature himself. He frowns.

“You’re burning up,” is all he says before he stands up and walks away. You can only sigh, pushing your laptop off to the side so you can rest your head on the table. You feel like shit. You want to go home but you still have a fucking paper to finish that’s due just a few hours from now. You curse under your breath.

When is Kevin coming? How much longer are you going to have to wait for him?

In just a few minutes, your eyelids become extremely heavy. You blink lazily once, twice until you’ve given up and closed them, but just before you can succumb to sleep, you feel something being draped over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter open and the moment you look up, you see Juyeon setting down a steaming cup of what you assume is tea, along with a pack of medicine.

You blink in surprise but he doesn’t react, only tucking the tray under his arm as he attempts to open a bottle of water for you. You let out a weak chuckle, “Juyeon… You really didn’t have to.” You reach out to get the bottle from him but he doesn’t hand it over until he’s done opening it.

You scrunch your nose at him, taking it without much of a choice. And as you reach out for the medicine, Juyeon gets to it first, popping out a tablet for you. Your lips press into an awkward line. Even Kevin doesn’t do this. You’re not quite how to feel about it. Still, you silently take it from him and say your thanks.

By then, you thought he’d get right back to work but instead he stays rooted to his spot, watching you take the medicine. “Good,” he murmurs when you’ve swallowed the water. Then he pats your head and bends down to fix his jacket on you.

“Drink the tea and take your medicine again after four hours, okay? Don’t forget.”

You are speechless, motionless and unable to fucking breathe. How could you when he’s so fucking close? Warming your arms up with his big hands and brushing your hair behind your fucking ear? What the actual fuck is he doing?

He looks deeply into your eyes, like he is searching for your deepest darkest secrets within their depths and you almost feel vulnerable for that split second. But then he pulls away, eyes leaving yours to focus on something else. He smiles at someone behind you while you gulp and try to get your lungs working again.

“Kevin’s here,” he tells you gently, giving your arms a small squeeze before letting go completely. And as if on cue, the said male appears from behind you and makes his way to his usual spot. “Sup! Sorry, I’m late… again. Mr. Hwang just won’t stop talking!”

You lick your drying lips from the amount of breaths you’re taking, Kevin’s ranting and Juyeon’s little hums fading into white noise. You feel yourself begin to move again but it’s only to fidget with your fingers when you wonder why the fuck you can hear your heart beating in your ears.

“Juyeon!”

You blink back to life, not knowing you spaced out. “Coming!” He quickly hollers back to his manager. Turning back to Kevin, he gives him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I have to get back to work. I’ll catch you guys later.” Then, he turns to you, “After four hours, okay?”

When he’s sure Juyeon is far enough, Kevin automatically gives you an expectant look, wiggling his eyebrows at you as if he’s coaxing you to tell him some juicy gossip. “Nope,” you huff, stuffing your arms into Juyeon’ large jacket. “I’m sick, Kevin... I don’t have the energy to deal with your bullshit right now.” So he pouts and lets you be.

...At least, until you’re done with your paper.

Sighing deeply, you take out your flashdrive from its port and snap your glaring eyes at your best friend. “Kevin Moon, I will literally murder you on the spot if you don’t stop.” He lets out a scandalized gasp, hand on his chest, “Wha-- I’m not even doing anything?!”

“You’re staring at me. And I know that fucking look! Stop it!” He breaks character almost immediately, snickering into his fist at how genuinely annoyed you look. “I saw everything,” he tells you, leaning in close as a shit-eating grin stretches at his lips, “I didn’t come right away because I was afraid I’d interrupt.”

You mentally groan. Great. Just great. Kevin’s not letting this one go.

Still, you roll your eyes and ignore him, shutting your laptop to a close and stuffing it into your messenger bag. “Please, so what if Juyeon has a little crush on you? Better him than… a dickwad like Hyunjae.” You heave a long and exasperated sigh, “For the nth time, Kevin. Juyeon does not have a crush on me, alright? You have to stop assuming things. He’s just--”

“Being nice. Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first bajillion times!”

“Good! So drop it.”

Kevin pouts at you but he shuts up anyway, packing his things up as well. His silence doesn’t last very long though. “What about you?” he suddenly asks, curious eyes trained on your face as you both make your way to the door. You know exactly what he means but you play dumb anyway, “What about me?”

“Do you have a crush on him? Do you like him?” You slap his arm and almost shut the door right at his face. “Yah! It’s a simple yes or no question. No need to get violent over it!” He’s right. It is a simple question. The answer should be a measly two letter, one syllable word but why is it getting stuck in your throat? Why can’t you seem to say it?

“No,” you belatedly reply, Kevin already sporting a teasing look on his face. You hit him again, “What the fuck is your deal? Why are you even asking me that?” You cross your arms over your chest defensively, eyes narrowed at the incoming cars.

“I just feel like there’s... something!” Kevin makes exaggerated gestures with his hands and you look over at him like he’s crazy, “What are you talking about, Kevin?” He pauses to think, lips pursed as he racks his brain for an appropriate word and just when you finally see an empty cab coming…

“Tension,” he blurts out and you miss your timing, the cab driving right past you. “Like thick, palpable sexual tension between you two!” Now it’s your turn to pause because yes, you’re completely aware of the tension he’s talking about but it never occurred to you that it was that type of tension until he pointed it out just now.

You look at him wordlessly and slowly, his teasing smile flattens. His face becomes a little more solemn and he looks away, now facing the road as well. He watches the cars pass by, his brows twitching and meeting in the middle. You can tell he’s thinking hard about something and that makes you uneasy.

You honestly don’t like it when Kevin gets serious like this. He always tries to knock some sense into you and you’re never ready for it. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pretend not to notice the air shift and continue to keep a look for an empty cab. You pray in your head that one shows up soon. You want to go home. You want to escape this situation.

“You’re not a relationship type of person. We both know that,” he chuckles humorlessly, “But Juyeon…” he bites his lower lip, shaking his head as he stares at the asphalt, “I don’t know honestly... but I think he might want something more than what you can offer.” The serious air around you feels heavy, suffocating almost.

You don’t get it. Why is Kevin telling you this? It’s not like it’s true that Juyeon does have some sort of thing for you. It’s only just an assumption. And that tension you both have? What about it? He already said it’s sexual tension. It’s not that deep.

Kevin catches on to your shift of demeanor and you may be oblivious to it, but being able to see right through you like you’re made of glass, he knows he’s struck a wrong chord within you. You’re his best friend and he cares about you a lot but Juyeon is also his friend. If he can save you both from a heartbreak just waiting to happen, he would.

Eventually, you were able to get a cab. And as quickly as you could, you shoved your flashdrive into Kevin’s hands, barely asking him to turn in your paper for you. The cab had driven off before he could even process what happened so he basically had no choice.

You didn’t get to see Juyeon anymore but after texting Kevin your thanks, you received a reply specifically stating that Juyeon asked him to tell you to get well soon, not to forget to take your medicine and to drink tons of water.

It amuses you why Juyeon didn’t just ask for your number instead so he could text you himself but then you remembered, he’s Juyeon. He’s a nice guy and he probably wasn’t comfortable asking for your number if it weren’t directly from you.

A soft smile makes its way to your lips as you set an alarm for exactly four hours from the last time you took your medicine. You put your phone back on your nightstand and lay on your bed quietly, thinking about many things but mostly about what Kevin had told you before you left.

Patiently, you wait for sleep to beckon you and as the day’s exhaustion finally catches up to your body, Juyeon’s denim jacket hung on your door is the last thing you see before your eyes fall shut.

previous | next | m.list

taglist: @grassbutneo

[ellsey]

I'm watching Diana the Musical so you don't have to

None of this makes sense

Was Diana really into pop?

I see you making Camilla look so much older though

These accents are...something

The real star of this show is that cello player bopping while Diana fake plays the cello

Oh no, I'm really into Prince Charles doing the robot

"Better than a Guinness, better than a wank" A+ lyrics

Lawd this chorus is never off stage how exhausting

Nooooo now the chorus is trying Welsh accents

Nevermind they dropped them pretty quickly

"A baby? So quickly?" Oh honey this musical is moving at breakneck speeds

Two verses later she had Harry yo

"How 'bout for a start don't act like a tart Diana!" I liked you better when you were doing the robot Charles

Camilla keeps referring to Charles as a handsome prince which is a choice

The Queen hates Charles even in this musical yikes

So I guess the last song in the first act was implying that Diana got famous just for being pretty? Harsh

NOOOOOOOOO JAMES HEWITT COMES ON STAGE SHIRTLESS SQUEALING HIS NAME ROCK AND ROLL STYLE

And making so many horse related innuendos

Also they barely tried to make this actor's hair red

"James Hewitt...did do it...in our princess's bed" THESE ARE ACTUAL LYRICS

"Who knew that a commissioned lad would give me more than I've ever had" I AM SCREAMING

There are now 2 beds on stage for Camilla/Charles and James/Diana

THERE WAS ONLY ONE STAGE

But also I'm kind of into Camilla/James now thanks

Stop making all 4 of them sing songs together if you're not going to get them all together

Diana is anti-Thatcher though so we stan

This scene where she's visiting AIDS patients is trying so hard to be Rent

"I'm sick but not blind" "Although my eyeliner's run low" This scene loses effectiveness when they start throwing in every gay stereotype they can

But also Diana promising to send a case of eyeliner is apparently what convinced them all to take pics with her even though they were afraid because they weren't out to their families and such

"It's the 'Thrilla in Manila' but with Diana and Camilla" HAAAAAAAAAAA

IT'S A SING OFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

We were all the losers unfortunately

Did Charles really want a daughter? That seems odd.

Ngl these harmonies in the song where Diana spills the secrets are tight

"No Windsor has ever admitted to having a mistress before" operative word there being admitted

These melodies never go anywhere. They just repeat like 4 measure over and over.

An entire song about Diana's "eff-you" dress I kid you not

Diana is trying to get the Queen to break free now too? What a rebel.

"She never complained. She was good English stock" lolol

Oh Diana gets an Evita moment

Diana sings this very hopeful song and then all of a sudden it's like oops she died

Flashing light warning at the end it's pretty bad

Every actor in this show is too good for it

I'm going to go watch Smash

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[atlafan]

Boo!

a/n: alright, I think this is the last Halloween fic I’m gonna due, I had one more in me. Thank you to everyone who sent me requests. I tried to sprinkle them all into the four different fics I wrote. This one was mostly inspired by someone who asked for a scared neighbor, and someone who asked for one of them to work at a haunted house! Reblogs and feedback are always helpful! Enjoy! (not proofread)

Warnings: pining, fluff, and smut at the end

Words: 6.6K

Y/N was a scaredy cat, plain and simple. She loved Halloween, and the fun that came with it, she just hated the things that absolutely made her skin crawl like jump scares, fake blood, movies that were made with the sole purpose of scaring you, and haunted houses. Never has she once wanted to go to a haunted house in her life. She went when she was a little girl, and she ended up being one of this kids that just screamed and cried the entire time. She somehow made it through both It films, but had nightmares for weeks, so she just stays away from these things.

She was a recent graduate, just starting her master’s program, and living on her own for the first time. She loved her flat a whole lot, getting to decorate it however she wanted, and only having herself to blame if the dishes got stacked up or if the bathroom needed tidying. Another reason she loved her flat? Her very cute next door neighbor. She wasn’t sure if he was also in grad school, or was just from the area. She learned his name was Harry one day as they were both checking their mailboxes, and from there they would exchange pleasantries in the elevator or if they saw one another coming or going.

Harry was a tad mysterious in that he was quiet, but his smile always let Y/N know she wasn’t a bother. She had no idea if he was single or not. His apartment was often quiet aside from the occasional person he might bring back with them. She only ever heard muffled giggles, and the sound of his voice lowering an octave, but her bed wasn’t pressed up to the wall they shared, so she really didn’t pay much attention to it. It did make her more mindful for when she brought someone home, though, not wanting him to hear her.

Y/N always liked the little interactions she’d have with her sweet neighbor. It made living alone a little more exciting. She’d have her friends over when she could, and sometimes they got a little glimpse of Harry, and then they’d understand why Y/N couldn’t help but word vomit about him sometimes.

One day, a couple of weeks before Halloween, Harry spots her in the hall just as she’s keying into her place. He grins and comes up behind her.

“Boo!”

“Ah!” She turns around and nearly decks him. “Jesus Christ, Harry!” She clutches her hand to her chest.

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d be so jumpy, I’m sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“No offense, but you’re a large man coming up behind a small woman to scare her on purpose…I think anyone would be scared.” Her face flushes with embarrassment.

“When you put it like that…yikes.” He clears his throat. “Um, I’m glad I caught you, though.”

“Oh?” She perks up a bit. He had genuinely wanted to talk with her?

“Yeah, I work seasonally at this haunted house downtown every year, it’s a lot of fun.” He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I’m supposed to give out some coupons, if you bring a group of five you get a discount, see?” He hands her the coupon and she looks it over.

“You…you work at a haunted house?”

“Just seasonally as a side gig, it pays pretty well. Plus, I get to dress up as different things and scare people.” He smirks.

“Well, I can see you definitely enjoy doing that.” She chuckles slightly.

“I really am sorry about that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a charity thing, so half the proceeds goes to UNICEF…if that persuades you at all.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll see if my friends want to go, thanks.”

He smiles at her and nods.

“Well, have a good one.” He says, and continues his way down the hall and to the elevator.

Y/N goes into her flat, and sighs heavily. She was fucked, absolutely fucked. She knew her friends would be down to go, but she more so worried about needing to wear a pair of depends or not because she was sure to wet herself at a haunted house.

//

“Why didn’t you just tell him you don’t like haunted houses?” Billy asks her over coffee.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Niall says to the group. “It’s the first time the guy’s said more than a few words to her, she wasn’t going to turn it down. Isn’t that right, Pet?”

“On the nose, Ni.” She sighs. “I looked like enough of a wimp when he scared me in the hall, I didn’t want to look like a total baby by telling him they scare me. Maybe we could go and I could just putter around outside.”

“Why don’t like you like them again? They’re harmless.” Sadie says as she sips on her tea.

“I don’t like the jump scares. I wanna see everything clearly in front of me. I also feel bad for clowns.” Y/N pouts.

“Clowns?” Rob questions.

“Yeah, like, clowns are supposed to be sources of joy, and they’ve been turned into these scary monsters for no good reason.” She takes a bite of her lemon-poppy scone, and swallows. “So…I mean, I have the coupon, would you all come with me? At least he’ll know I have friends.”

“What’s his name again?” Sadie says, taking her phone out. “Harry Styles?”

“Yeah, don’t bother looking him up, he doesn’t have any social media. Or if he does it’s all super private.” Y/N says.

“Of course you’ve tried to look him up before.” Niall teases her.

“Well, he is my neighbor, I wanted to see if I was living next to a creep or not.”

“I think we should go.” Billy says. “We haven’t done anything spooky this season yet.”

“That’s because you’re all too grown to come carve pumpkins and bake cookies with me.” Y/N huffs.

“Tell you what, you roast the seeds from the pumpkins and I’ll come bake with you.” Sadie says, throwing an arm around her friend, and they both giggle.

Later that day, Y/N happens to get into the elevator at the same time as Harry, and she was excited to give him the good news.

“Hey.” She smiles at him. “Um, I talked to my friends, we’ll be at the haunted house this weekend.”

“That’s great! I’ll be there Saturday night for sure.”

“What will you be dressed as? Will you be walking around outside, or will you be inside doing the real scaring?”

“If I told you any of that it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it? No built up suspense.” They both get off the elevator and head down the hall. “See you then.” He winks at her, and she stands by her door a moment going over the interaction in her head.

She just wanted to prepare herself as much as possible. She knew half the fun for the stuff was to actually get people scared, but there was a difference between jumping and laughing at something, and genuinely screaming to the point of tears. Would she actually survive this?

//

Saturday evening, Y/N and her friends head downtown for the haunted house. There was a lot to do outside, so they stop off for candied apples before getting their tickets. She shows her coupon to the cashier, and the group gets their discount. It was just starting to get dark outside, and there were tons of people in costume walking around outside. Some people were taking pictures with them after getting spooked, and Y/N started to feel herself getting nervous.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” Niall throws his arms around her shoulders. “Bill and I are gonna make a little sandwich with you so you’ll be right between us to grab onto while we walk in.”

“Thanks.” She says.

“Do you see him anywhere, or do you think he’s inside?” Rob asks.

“He wouldn’t tell me when I asked, so I have no idea.” She sighs.

“Well, let’s go get in line, it’s starting to fill up.” Sadie says, and they all head to the line to get inside.

There was someone dressed up like a witch scanning the tickets, and reminds everyone it is single file as you enter the house. Everyone nods, and Y/N grips onto both Niall and Billy’s hands as they form their line.

Harry was outside at the front of the line scoping out the scene. He was taking a little fresh air break before he needed to get back into his room. He was dressed like a dirtbag with a fake chainsaw in his hand. As he scans over the crowd in line he spots Y/N. His eyes widen as he practically sees her trembling. He watches as one of the boys she’s with raises her chin with their finger and says something to her. She smiles at him, and kisses his cheek. Harry furrows his brows in disappointment, and goes back inside.

It’s dark as they all step inside, and her death grip on the boys grows stronger.

“Y/N, close your eyes if you need to, we can guide you in.” Billy says to her as he grips her shoulders.

“Yeah, don’t feel like you even need to-“

“Ahhh!!” She screams when a few ghouls pop out at them. She nearly jumps on Niall’s back from it. “I should have just stayed outside.” Her bottom lip quivers.

“We’ve got you, just keep going.” Sadie says from the rear.

It really was just the jump scares and the darkness. The rooms they were walking in weren’t that scary. Some of them have flashes of lightening and rumbles of thunder, creepy music and floorboard squeaking. Harry’s room was up next. All he had to was pretend to saw into someone’s neck, and let some fake blood out. The only thing was, his room was pitch black, so no one could what was happening until he ripped the cord for the chainsaw.

He recognizes Y/N’s pitiful scream instantly. Usually he gets a kick out of it, from anyone, but when he glances over at the group, and sees her cheeks stained with tears, he feels terrible. The scene is supposed to last a little longer, but he gives a signal to the lighting crew and they make it go dark again. His room was last, so Y/N practically gasps for air once she’s back outside.

“I’m sorry if I ruined it for you all.” She sniffles and wipes her cheeks. Niall sighs and helps her clean her face up.

“You didn’t, Lovie, it’s fine.” He says to her.

“You actually did a lot better than we thought.” Rob says.

“Are your panties dry?” Billy asks.

“Well…yeah.” She giggles.

“Then you did amazing!” Sadie says. “I have to say, I’ve been to my fair share of haunted houses, and that one was fucking scary.”

“Can…can we go get some pizza or something? Maybe some hard ciders? I need a fucking drink.” She jokes, and everyone agrees. She wished she had Harry’s number so she could at least text him that she actually showed up. “Wait! I just wanna go inside and leave a note for Harry.”

Everyone waits outside as she goes back up to the ticketing register. She asks if she can leave a note for him, and the girl at the register all but squeals, and says yes.

Made it through the house, just wanted you to know. Thanks again for the coupon!! – Y/N xx

“I’ll make sure H gets it.” She smiles at Y/N.

“Thank you.” She says, and out the door she goes back to her friends.

Harry felt even more gutted when he received the note. He had been part of the reason she was crying. Why would she have gone if she really didn’t like being scared? Did she go just for him? No way, that other guy she kissed had to be her boyfriend, right?

//

For about a week Harry contemplated knocking on Y/N’s door. He even thought to slide a note underneath, just to be cute, but he chickened out. One night he was getting some studying done when he heard a loud yelp. His head turns in the direction of the sound. Did she have someone over? He’d occasionally hear the squeal of her bed, but in all honesty Harry had a feeling Y/N wasn’t exactly getting her shit rocked. Either that, or she was just one of those really quiet girls. Not a minute later does he hear a quiet tap on his front door. He gets up and pads over to it to look through his peephole. It was a shaking Y/N.

“Y/N?” He says as he unlocks and opens his door. “Are you alright?”

“N-no, I…I don’t know what happened, um, I think something short circuited, and I…I feel so stupid for saying this but I don’t know where the breaker box is.”

“Oh, Pet, you’re not stupid. Took me forever to find mine, do you want some help?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He follows her out into the hall, and into her place.

“Gave you a bit of a fright, didn’t it?” He asks softly.

“Y-yeah.”

Poor thing must have been embarrassed. She was in a pair of pajama pants and a tee shirt, clearly not wearing a bra. He thought she looked adorable, and just wanted to scoop her up, but he couldn’t. He uses his flashlight on his phone, and she involuntarily latches onto his wrist.

“I’m sorry, I’m petrified of the dark.” She tells him.

“It’s alright.” He shifts so he can hold her hand. “The breaker box should be in your pantry, that’s where mine is anyways.”

He heads her over to it, and she lets him open the door. She had a tidy flat, nothing to hide. He opens the box, looks away, flips the switch, and the lights all come back on. She lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god. I thought I was going to be without heat! Thank you, I have no idea what happened. I don’t have anything overly plugged in.”

“No problem at all.” He smiles at her. “Sometimes it happens at my place, it’s not exactly the newest building, Love.”

“Right.” She swallows and lets go of his hand. He looks in the direction of her kitchen and sees she has a couple of pumpkins on the table.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, well, I was going to get some cookies in the oven, and then carve some pumpkins. My friends aren’t really into it, but I like it.”

“So you don’t totally hate Halloween then?”

“No, not at all! I…I’m just not a fan of the scary stuff.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Would you…would you care to join me?” It was bold. He probably had plans, or probably just didn’t want to hang out with her.

“I’d love to! Can’t remember the last time I carved a pumpkin.”

“Oh! Well, alright then.” She smiles and leads him into her kitchen. “I have those sugar cookies with the pumpkins and black cats on them. I was about to slice them up before the power went out.”

“I love those, can I help?”

“Sure.”

She preheats the oven and gets a baking sheet out with some parchment paper. She lets him slice up the roll with the black cats as she does the ones with the pumpkins, then she pops them in the oven. She grabs a couple of bowls to place on the table and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“My friends like when I roast the seeds, so we need one bowl for all the guts, and then one for when we separate them.”

“Gotcha.” They each grab one of the little carving knives and cut open the tops of the pumpkins. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t like the scary stuff then why did you come to the haunted house?”

“Oh…well…I didn’t want to disappoint you. You invited me, and…well….I’ve always wanted to get to know you better, so I thought that would be a good start.”

“You have?”

“Well, yeah, I think you’re the only other young person on our floor.” She laughs. “Are you still in school?”

“Yeah, I’m in grad school.”

“Me too!” She says excitedly and starts scooping the guts out of her pumpkin. Harry does the same.

“You could have just told me, you know, I was using the coupon as an excuse to talk to you.”

“R-really?”

He nods and starts separating the seeds. She watches as his fingers work nimbly. She frightened when she hears the timer go off for the oven.

“Jesus, Y/N….I feel terrible that you’re so jumpy.”

“I think I’m just still a little worked up from the power going out.” She takes the cookies out of the oven and puts them on a cooling rack.

She comes back over and sticks her hands in the bowl of guts along with Harry’s, and they brush together. They look at each other and blush.

“Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

Everything sort of happens quickly from there. Without caring about the mess, Harry cups her cheeks and pulls her into a tender kiss. He backs her up against the wall next to the fridge, and she groans into his mouth. Her messy hands tug at the collar of his shirt to pull him down more to her so she can wrap her warms around his neck. He smiles against her.

“Were you eating some of the cookie dough earlier?”

“M-maybe.” She giggles. “Why?”

“You just taste really sweet.” He leans down and sucks her bottom lip between his teeth, and lets it snap back. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, to be honest with you. You just seem like such a nice person.”

“I’ve…I’ve wanted to kiss you too.” Her heart was beating like crazy. Her eyes glance over at the pumpkins. She really did want to carve them. “Um…would you…would you like to get the pumpkins carved? And then maybe we could watch a movie while the seeds roast?”

“I’d like that.” He steps back from her. “I got your cheeks covered in guts, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She chuckles and grabs a paper towel, wetting it under the sink faucet. She wipes her cheeks and continues to separate the seeds with him.

Harry begins carving his pumpkin while she lets the seeds rest on some paper towels. They munch on cookies, and giggle as they make horrible designs with the pumpkins.

“Okay, hold on.” She says and grabs two little lights to put inside the pumpkins. “Aw, they look so cute.”

“How come your friends don’t like doing this? I had a great time.”

“It’s a lot of work to them.” She shrugs. “Kinda glad they’re not here, wouldn’t have needed you to rescue me.”

“Guess it all worked out for the best.” He smiles at her.

“Go get get comfy. I can make us some tea while I ge the seeds in the oven if you like.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

It was a Wednesday night, Harry had class tomorrow, but he truthfully didn’t care. He was enjoying getting to know his neighbor, and he was hoping to get to know her a bit more.

“Alright.” She sets the mugs on the coffee table and grabs the remote. “I don’t know about you, but I’d love to watch Halloweentown.”

“A classic, throw it on.”

She feels almost giddy at his willingness to humor her. She flips the TV to Disney+, and puts on the movie. Just as she’s biting into another cookie after the opening the credits, she asks him the question that had been rattling around her brain over the last week.

“So, are you going to tell me who you were dressed up as at the haunted house?”

“Oh…I was the chainsaw guy at the end…”

“Oh.” She says quietly.

“I had them end it quicker when I saw how scared you were, I felt terrible.”

“Great, so you saw me crying like a baby.” She sighs.

“Hey.” He smiles at her. “I think it’s really brave that you went through the whole house.”

“You’re just saying that.” She pouts at him.

“No, I mean it.” He lifts a hand to stroke her cheek.

“You never responded to my note.” She says, just above a whisper.

“I…I didn’t know how. I didn’t know if one of the guys you were with was you boyfriend or not, and I didn’t want to just slip a response under your door.”

Her body relaxes under his touch, and she smiles softly at him.

“The guy who willingly scares people to the point of tears was too shy to slip a note under my door?” She smirks, and he lets go of her with a scoff.

“I resent that. There’s a crazy amount of confidence you get when you dress up like someone else”

“Sort of like stage presence?”

“Yeah, sort of.” He puts his arm around her and pulls her close to him. “Be quiet and watch the movie, would you?”

She giggles but listens to him. After she pulls the seeds out of the oven to cool, they get especially cozy on the couch with him laying behind her to spoon her. It was incredibly cozy, and everything she could have hoped for with him. The kiss earlier was nice and all, but she was hoping this was the sort of guy Harry was. One to be okay with staying in and watching a classic movie with a plate of cookies close by.

//

He was reluctant to leave, giving her smooch after smooch at the door, but he didn’t want to be groggy for class, and she had class too, so it was best for them to part ways. He did, however, ask for her number so he could ask her on a proper date some time and she happily gave it to him.

Y/N told her friends about the previous night, and they were really excited for her. They couldn’t believe the two had kissed over pumpkin guts, but hey, whatever works, right?

“You should invite him to my Halloween party.” Sadie says.

“He probably has to work at that stupid haunted house.” Y/N sighs.

“You won’t know unless you ask. Besides, it’s not like that place will be open super late. He could meet up with you.”

“That’s true. What if he thinks my costume is lame? I’m only dressing up like a witch.”

“The cutest witch as that, he won’t be able to resist.” Niall winks at her and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll text him.” Her eyes grow wide as she takes out her phone.

“What is it, Peanut?” Billy asks her.

“He texted me this morning and I missed it!” She scrambles to open the message and text him back.

Harry: morning, beautiful, I had a lot of fun last night. Can’t wait to do it again…8:09AM

Y/N: so sorry for just responding, I’m horrible at texting! I had a lot of fun last night too. Do you have plans on Halloween??...11:17AM

She sets her phone down with a sigh, taking a sip of her tea as her friends continue to chat about Sadie’s party. She sees her screen light up and she smiles.

Harry: lol no worries, I’m sure you’re a busy person. I have to work the day shift at the haunted house, don’t worry, we tone it down for the kids, but I’m free in the evening, why?

Y/N: oh, well, maybe I should have gone during the day then haha my friend Sadie’s having a party and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me? It’s okay if you don’t…

Harry: don’t be silly, I’d love to go! I’m assuming it’s a costume thing?

Y/N: great! Yeah, it’s a costume thing, but it’s not like over the top, I’m just going as a witch

Harry: bet you’ll be the cutest witch there 😉

Y/N: oh stop 😳

Harry: I mean it! I definitely have plenty of costumes, so I can pull something together. What time’s the party?

Y/N: I was hoping to get there for 9

Harry: works for me, see you then!

Y/N: see you then

“Oh my god.” She giggles to herself.

“What?” Sadie asks. “Is he gonna come with you to the party?”

“Yup?” Y/N grins. “And he thinks I’ll be the cutest witch there.”

“Oi, I literally just said the same thing to you!” Niall says.

“Yeah, but…I’m interested in him romantically so it means more.”

“Piss off.” He says with a glare and it makes her laugh. She throws her arms around her friend and kisses his cheek.

“Don’t worry, Ni, you’re still my number one man.”

“Mhm, sure.” He scoffs, and everyone else laughs.

//

Y/N never really fretted over a Halloween costume before, and she felt silly for being so nervous, but she just wanted to look…sexy? She sighs as she changes her outfit about three different times. She also wanted to be comfortable. She slides her legs into a pair of black slacks that come up just over her belly button, and had a slight flair at the bottom. She pairs it with a black lace bralette so only a sliver of her torso was showing. She curls her hair and brushes it out to look wavy, and applies some fun makeup to make her eyes pop. Last, she puts on her small witch’s hat, and waits for him. When she hears the knock on her door at ten of nine she takes a deep breath, grabs her purse, and opens it.

“Oh, Babe, you look amazing.” He says almost immediately, giving her a hug. She smiles up at him when she sees he’s dressed like a casual vampire. Donning similar black attire (slacks and a button up), along with some fake blood painted at the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, is that what you wore today?”

“Yeah.”

“Way less scary.” She chuckles, and locks her door.

“Do you wanna wear my jacket?”

“Maybe later? I’m okay right now, but thank you.”

He nods as they step into the elevator. He casually takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The walk to Sadie’s doesn’t take too long, and Y/N lets herself in when they get there. It was the usual group, plus some other friends from school and work. She introduces Harry to all of them, and get the two of them some sherbet punch.

“It’s spiked, is that alright?” She says to him.

“Yeah, thank you.” He takes the small cup from her and takes a sip.

Harry gets on with Y/N’s friends way better than she expected. It eased a lot of her anxiety because it wasn’t often she brought a guy around them so soon, but she talked about the him enough that they all already felt comfortable around him. He was also really funny, so that helped.

It was a great night all around. Y/N won a couple of round of Cards Against Humanity, and partnered up with Niall for a game of beer pong. Somewhere between midnight and one in the morning, Y/N and Harry decide to call it a night, he had worked all day after all.

“Care to come to mine for a nightcap?” He asks her as he shimmies his jacket off his shoulders and onto hers for the walk home.

Normally she wouldn’t yes so quickly, but they lived right next door to each other, and they had already gotten the first kiss out of the way, so she agrees. She was also curious to see how he had set up his place compared to hers. He leads her inside, and she stays wrapped in his coat as she goes to sit on his sofa. He comes back shortly with two glasses of red wine, only a little in each.

“Thank you.” She says as he hands her a glass. He sits down next to her, and grabs two coasters for his coffee table before setting his glass down.

“I had a lot of fun with your friends tonight. They seem like really nice people.” He sits with one leg underneath himself, and an arm slung over the back of the sofa.

“They are! I couldn’t ask for better friends, honestly.”

“Maybe you could meet mine sometime.” He blushes. “I don’t have as big of a circle as you do, but the friends I have are great.”

“I’d like that.” She smiles at before taking another small sip and setting her glass down. “I can’t believe I’ve been living next to you since June and it’s taken us this long to get to know each other.”

“Feels silly now, doesn’t it?” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“Yeah.” She inches closer to him, and looks up at him with wide eyes. “Would you kiss me again, I really liked it last time.”

He smiles at her and leans in, pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes flutter closed as she tastes the sweet red wine pass from his lips to hers. He tugs her onto his lap to create a more comfortable position, causing his jacket to slip from her shoulders, but neither seem to care. She laces her fingers into his hair, and opens her mouth for him. He licks into her as his hands splay on her back, not wanting to be too grabby too soon. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she moans softly into him. He had the first few buttons of his shirt undone already, so it was easy enough to kiss from his jaw to his neck. He holds her close to him as she mouths at his sensitive skin. She moves to his collar bone, and bites down, sucking on him. He groans and squeezes at her back. She moves to look up at him, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Would you…like to see my bedroom?” He asks, clearly testing the waters.

“Yes.” She says, much to his surprise. She was full of surprises tonight. He pecks her lips, and lets her get off of him. He takes her hand and leads her to his bedroom. “It’s nice in here, Harry.” His bed was made, and his desk was tidy. A few clothes on the floor, but that’s much to be expected.

“Thanks, the, uh, comforter is new.”

“Looks comfy.”

“It is.” He cups her cheeks and kisses her. Her hands go to his love hands and she squeezes him.

They make their way over to the bed, and they lay down with him hovering over her. She wraps her legs around his waist while he kisses on her neck. His lips move down between the valley of her breasts, and nipping at the parts of her that were spilling out of the lace.

“This is such a sexy outfit.” He says, hot breath against her skin. She groans and pushes her hips up towards his to feel his growing bulge.

“What, um, what do you feel like doing, Harry?” She runs her hands through his hair.

“Honestly, I’d like to fuck you, but-“ She yanks his face up to hers so she can kiss him. He chuckles as he pulls away. “We can, uh, wait if you want.” He clears his throat.

“Do you want to wait? I wouldn’t mind if you fucked me.”

“Well, look at you! The girl who’s so bloody afraid of the dark and haunted house and all things spooky is up for a little shag?”

“I may be scared in the streets, but that’s not how I am in the sheets.” She grins at him and his eyes darken a little.

“Alright, then.”

He sits up and takes his shirt the rest of the way off. She gazes up at him and runs her hands up and down his stomach. He was toned, yet soft, the perfect mixture. She reaches to undo his belt, and unzip his pants. He gets them the rest of the way off, and then kneads her breasts through the bralette. She arches up into him, and moans when he sucks on her nipple through the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He breathes.

“Please.”

She sits up a little to help him, and he tugs it off of her. His large hands cup her breasts, and he goes back to sucking on them, leaving little love bites behind. He works his mouth down her stomach, and his hands work to undo her pants. He looks up at her and she nods, lifting up her hips to help him get them off. He leaves her underwear on for now, kissing on her hips, and opening her legs up. He sucks a bruise on her inner thigh, and she gasps. He kisses her over panties before hooking his fingers into them, and dragging them down her legs. She blushes as she opens herself up for him. She had done a full body shave, and now she was regretting it because she must look like a child to him even though she was the same age as him.

“I…I’m sorry, that must look weird.” She chokes out.

“What?”

“M’like a little too smooth, don’t you think?”

Harry runs his fingers over her folds and up her pelvis.

“Listen, whether you look like this, have a full bush, or something in between, I wouldn’t really care. It’s all about comfort, right? Does being shaved like this make you more comfortable?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Okay, so, no problem, Babe.” He smiles. “It’s actually kinda cute.”

“Harry.” She whines and runs her hands down her face. “Will you get on with it?”

He nods and lays between her legs. He uses his thumbs to spread her apart, and starts by licking at her clit. She gasps as he flicks the tip across the bud, and then laps around her folds. He licks over her center, and presses circles with his thumb into her clit. He dips his tongue inside her, only for a moment, before looking up at her. He runs a fingers around her wetness before pushing it inside, and putting his mouth back on her clit. She watches him with her mouth hanging open.

“God, that feels so fucking good.” She praises him, and he moans against her in response.

He gets a second finger inside her and makes the ‘come here’ motion over and over, petting over her front wall and pushing against her g-spot. His tongue continues to work her clit, and she starts to feel her orgasm approaching.

“Oh, oh my god, oh my god, Harry, fuck, I’m gonna come, ugh, don’t stop, I’m…I’m, fuck!” She all but screams as she releases around his fingers.

He fucks her through it, removing his mouth, but still pumping her slowly with his fingers. She was unraveling for him, and he loved the sight. He retracts his fingers and cups her cheek with his other hand.

“Liked that, huh?” He smirks.

“Felt amazing.” She smiles up at him dreamily. “Do you want me to, um-“

“As much as I’d love to get those pretty lips wrapped around me, I really just wanna fuck you, is that okay?”

“Works for me.” She chuckles, and watches him reach into his side table for a condom, which makes her smile grow more.

He slips his boxers off, and her jaw drops as he rolls the condom on. She was definitely thankful he fingered her first. He gets back between her legs, and runs his tip between her folds. Her hips buck up towards him, just wanting him to put it in already.

“Want me to fuck you?” He says.

“Yeah.”

“How bad?” He says as he just presses his tip against her and then pulls it away.

“R-really bad, Harry.” She nearly begs. “Please, fuck me.”

He presses his bulbous head into her, and she moans out from the stretch. He feeds her, inch by inch, and bottoms out. Her nails dig into his forearms.

“M’gonna move.” He says and she nods.

He rocks his hips in and out of her at first, letting her adjust, and then he grabs one of her ankles to throw over his shoulder, and he drives it in deep. Her mouth falls open, but no noise comes out. No one had ever filled her up like this before. He grips the head board with one hand and continues fucking into her. She moans out, maybe a little too loudly, but it wasn’t like his neighbor was home. No wonder she could hear whoever he brought home sometimes, he really knew what he was doing. With a stroke of boldness, she slides her hand up to his neck, and grips him lightly. He looks down at her, a little shocked.

“Is this okay?” She pants.

“Yeah, do it harder.”

She groans and does as he says. He grunts and moans as he starts to hit her g-spot again. It was quite the hot sight, seeing her small hand around his thick throat. Her other hand moves to rub her clit, and he almost loses it watching her.

“Y/N, I…fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can go, I’m s-sorry.” He bites his bottom lip to try to focus on something else.

“I’m almost there, almost there! Just keep going, please!”

Her back arches as he gives her a sharp thrust and she comes around his cock. He spills into the condom not too long after and collapses on top of her. She hugs him to her chest, and runs her fingers through his now damp curls. He lifts his head to kiss her, licking into her mouth. She welcomes it, molding her tongue to his. If he wasn’t so sensitive he’d probably grow hard again. She winces as he pulls out, and he quickly goes into his bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her up.

“You don’t have to do that, I can just use the bathroom.” She says as her legs lay limp. He chuckles as he runs the rag over her.

“I know you can, but I thought I’d help out a bit.” He knees back on the bed to lay next to her. “Will you stay the night?”

“You really want me to?”

“Yeah.” He runs his fingers up and down her torso, raising goosebumps over her body. “I don’t know about you, but in about ten minutes I for sure could go again.” Her head turns to him and she scoffs. “Or…not, we could also just cuddle if you like.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that.” She rolls over onto his chest, and he kisses the top of her head.

“Did I go a little too hard?”

“Maybe, but I like it like that so it’s fine.”

“You’re full of surprises, I like you a lot.” He blurts out, and she looks up at him.

“You do?”

“Mhm.” He smiles.

“Good, because I like you too. I’m glad you’re not a proper dick and didn’t kick me out.”

“Couldn’t do that to you, Babe. In fact, tomorrow morning, I’m gonna make you a big breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and then we’ll get cozy and eat it in bed. Have a nice lazy day…you know, if you want….”

She giggles and moves to straddle him. He grips her hips and looks up at her confused.

“You’ve sold me, I can go again.”

[bwbatta]

panic

Abstract: It’s barely days before the Battle of Hogwarts and you’re a seer. The last thing you want to be dreaming about is your boyfriend’s death.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: so much angst yikes i’m sorry

Word Count: 1181

A/N: I’m not sure what compelled me to write this but its been one of those days yanno?! 

There were times where you despised your bloodline.

With your mother, grandmother and great grandmother all having one specific trait, there was no doubt you would also inherit the talent of being a seer. 

The visions you experienced started young with you seeing people in your mind before you had even met them, or knowing what was going to happen before pieces even fell into play. 

Most of the time your visions came to you when you were awake and conscious that you knew they were predictions for the future. Other times, you experienced them when you were asleep. These were more difficult to acknowledge. 

The struggle between whether knowing something was just a dream or not was an issue you had experienced on occasion, not knowing whether a scenario would eventually play out or not, left you almost as in the dark as everyone else and you hated it. Tonight was no different.

It started like everything around you was moving in slow motion. 

The air became difficult to breathe with all the smoke and dust around from the parts of the castle which had been destroyed. Your eyes and throat burned as you mind buzzed drastically. Your eyes darted around, trying to spot something, yet you couldn’t work out what exactly it was you were trying to find. 

Your head hurt, especially your temple and immediately your hand reached up towards it, only to retract when you felt something wet and sticky drying on your skin. Pulling your hand away, blood coated your fingers as your heart leaped, your mind now attuning to the scene surrounding you. 

Chaos was the only word to sum up the present, as rubble encased the floor from the nearby wall which had collapsed. 

You weren’t sure what had happened previously to this, your memory didn’t go back that far. Something about the head wound you sported might’ve had something to do with that though. 

The next thing to register with you was the high pitched ringing in your ears as they tried to climatize. You couldn’t hear anything, why couldn’t you hear anything? 

Then suddenly, hands gripped your shoulders as your eyes focused on the man with the bright red hair before you. His face was distressed and there were small cuts littered around his features which looked fresh. He looked distraught and frantic. 

Your mind suddenly clicked as to who it was, despite the couple of years he had been absent from your lives. Percy Weasley gripped your shoulders tightly as he tried to speak to you, but all you could hear was that ringing.

“What?” 

You couldn’t even hear yourself speak, it being muffled as you closed your eyes, trying to stop your head from spinning. 

“Y/N?” It was faint, but it was clearer than anything before. “Y/N, are you with me?”

“Percy?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“I dont-” 

Your words died in your throat, as your eyes caught sight of another flash of red hair, doused in rubble and blood. His eyes which were normally so full of life and laughter now stared forward, cold and distant. 

“Y/N,” Percy’s attention flicked from you to the body behind him, seeing where your attention had gone, and at once he felt his own chest clench up at the sight of his brother lying a handful of feet away from him. 

You weren’t sure you were breathing as your lungs began to burn, the very breath being taken from you at the sight of your boyfriend. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t real, right? 

Fred Weasley couldn’t be dead. 

“No.” The words left your mouth, before your body took it’s own course of action, ignoring the pain, and crawling towards him, the same word repeating itself over and over again like a broken record. “No, no no no.”

You reached him and your hands went to his face, framing it between your palms like you had done millions of times before, yet this time it made your blood run cold. 

“Fred? No, Merlin, no, please look at me, please, Fred! Just blink your eyes, say something, do anything!”

You barely felt the hand on your shoulder, as Percy crouched down next to you. 

“Y/N.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Fred. “Y/N, you need to wake up.”

“Y/N!”

Gasping, you shot up, eyes darting, heart racing. The first thing you acknowledged was the tight grip, holding you close to a chest, hands rubbing up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, it was a dream, you’re okay.”

The familiar voice of Fred filled your ears which sought a new wave of tears as the memory of his lifeless eyes haunted your thoughts. 

“Fred?” the mumble of your voice was spoken into his skin as you pulled him close to you, not wanting to let go even for a second. 

“I’m here, can you take some deep breaths for me?”

Doing what he said, you tried to calm your breathing despite your mind being in a full tailspin. That was just a dream, right? 

Fred didn’t release his hold on you as you tried to centre yourself from having a full blown panic attack. Your eyes sought out the familiarities in your shared room to ground yourself.

Fred’s large Gryffindor hoodie which was slung over the chair, one you had adopted as your own and wore more regularly than him. 

The pictures on top of the chest of drawers, your favourite being the most recent from the twins birthday at the beginning of the month. Your birthday card to him was still up next to it, despite it being the end of April, May just around the corner.

The small empty purple box from a chocolate frog on Fred’s bedside table that he’d saved, due to the card being one of the only one’s Ron hadn’t collected yet. You knew he was holding on to it to give to his younger brother the next time he saw him.

In fact, he had a small stack of them to give to Ron, it had been a months since any of you had last seen him. 

Your breath slowed and you mind dulled, soaking in the warmth from your boyfriend who had pressed his lips to your temple. You held back more tears as you realised it was exact the same spot as your injury in the dream. 

“You with me?” Fred murmured into your hair, his hand cradling the side of your face as you pulled away only slightly to look up at him. 

His eyes were bright and attentive, face unmarred and clean from any dirt or blood. 

“Yeah.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. “Just a dream.”

“Just a dream?” Fred questioned, the double meaning of the words painfully clear. 

“Yeah, just a dream.” You repeated, burying your face into his chest again, renewing your hold on him.

It had to be just a dream, you prayed so hard that it was. Because there was no way that it could be anything even remotely real, right?

Fred Weasley Taglist: (if bold i can’t tag you)

@the-whitewolfie​

Harry Potter Taglist:

@ochrythum​ @hahee154hq​ @loonyslytherin​ @fleur-tysworld​ @la3divine @fiantomartell​

Permanent Taglist:

@whatthefuckimbisexual​

[adonis-koo]

tease

| 16 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word Count: 12k

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Song Mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.

TW: There is a lot of implied dubious sex and implied rape/sexual harassment in this chapter, if any of these are triggers please read with caution 🖤

You wouldn’t deny, you felt extremely excited while standing in the large room, vanity lights in classic Vegas style were lit up above the long vanity table, the standing hanging rack had all your costumes on it and while your name wasn’t in plaque it was hastily written on a taped up piece of paper. These people actually considered you a soloist….only by definition considering it was your last week...But still, it was exciting!

Taking a seat in the cushioned chair you got to work on your makeup to begin with, it was Vegas, and considering this was a VIP party you figured it would be okay to really go all out cutcrease makeup, sharp wings and eyelashes that could be mistook for fans, the whole nine yards.  You had originally gone to skip a song on your phone, what you hadn’t expected was paragraph long message from the last person on your mind. 

Seriously? No seriously…? Annoyance twisted and snapped in your veins like a wildfire, as you continuously reread the text, did Seulgi ever truly know you at all? Where was this message when your relationship was toxic with Jungkook? Where was she when Hanjae broke into your apartment? Where was she when you completely ruined your first ever soloist performance? Where was she when you actually needed her? 

You hadn’t even realized your hands were trembling or heard the knock on the door until the familiar voice of Jimin interrupted you, “Y/n! Y/n? Hey, you’re on in ten, why aren’t you dressed?” 

Your gaze snapped from your phone to the blonde before you rubbed your forehead, you didn’t have time for her issues right now, it would just have to wait. Standing up you pressed your lips together before sighing, “Sorry, Seulgi just sent me a paragraph text,” You pulled the oversized shirt over your head as you walked over to the costume rack, you already had your lingerie set underneath but it was always more comfortable to get ready in loose clothing, “Out of the blue! Seriously, what is her problem?” 

You could hear Jimin snort behind you in amusement as you pushed your shorts down, looking over your shoulder with an ungrateful expression to which he straightened up at, “Ah sorry. Honestly? She’s probably just jealous...I mean, think about it, you were chosen to be trained by the most popular stripper in Cherry Bomb when you had no intention of even becoming a stripper at all, you were chosen to become a temporary soloist and now you made it on the list for Seasonella as a soloist and she didn’t even make the cut at all.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, your fingers still coiled against the black pencil skirt that sat at your hips as you turned to face Jimin, “...She didn’t make the list…?” Yikes... Suddenly her message made a lot more sense...Not so much her message, but the timing of it. You glanced back at the costume rack, suddenly feeling a mix of both pity yet anger, this was your job, not high school cheer tryouts! “I honestly don’t know what to do with her anymore, I mean...Sure I feel bad she didn’t make the list, but is it really that big of a deal?” 

“Not really, but strippers are considerably catty,” Jimin leaned against the back of the couch as he shrugged, “Seulgi honestly fits the filler role perfect. It’s a shame really, she has all the potential to become a soloist.” 

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at his works, pulling the sheer button up top over your head before semi tucking it in, “Well somebody needs to tell her that so she’ll get off my ass. Don’t get me wrong, I understood at first Jimin, I really did,” Your eyes were semi glossed and pleading before you sighed, gritting your teeth, “But now it’s just petty.” 

“Well that’s the thing,” Jimin snorted a laugh as you pulled the brown trench coat over your shoulders, “Don’t you get it Y/n?” You paused at his words, his smile playful as he began laughing, as if he knew a secret you didn’t, “That’s her problem. Seulgi needs to constantly be petted, the only person that’s holding her back from becoming a soloist is herself, if she didn’t need to be groomed and the center of attention constantly, if she’d just shut up and do the work that’s needed without constantly being praised for it. She’d easily make it to the top. But because she can’t, because she’s used to everyone telling her how amazing she is, she’s never going to get there.”

Jimin tucked his tongue into his cheek as he scoffed, “People like that annoy the fuck out of me. That’s what makes you different from her, yeah you were coddled by Jungkook in the beginning, but you never expected that out of him. You never anticipated any of us drowning you in praise and telling you ‘you’d definitely become a soloist;. No, you struggled like most of us did in the beginning, you worked your ass off in the beginning and now it’s paying off. That’s her problem.” 

Your lips parted at his words, rather shocked to see Jimin feel so defensive for you. Pressing your lips together as you fiddled with your jacket, you never realized he felt so strongly about your situation with Seulgi, “...Do you think I’ve changed?” That was the one thing that bothered you, this whole time Seulgi kept proclaiming you had changed, was it really that bad?

“Yeah,” Your gaze snapped to Jimin’s figure as he shrugged, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, presumably what he was wearing for the stage, “But change isn’t always a bad thing Y/n. Don’t let people hold you down just because they want to stay the same.” 

Sighing, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you leaned against the wall, thinking on his words. You supposed, Jimin was right, change wasn’t always a bad thing. And looking back, maybe you had changed? 

But it’s like he said, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, you needed that change to happen. Or else things with Jungkook would have exploded and you could have potentially ruined your relationship with him. Your heart trembled at that idea, the memory of him and you both distant but still fresh. Jungkook was so important to you, you couldn’t lose him, and you changed not for him, but for yourself. So had he. 

“I didn’t take you for a therapist Jimin.” You glanced up as a mutual smile pulled on both your and his lips as you shared a laugh, shaking your head as you stepped into your heels, “Thanks though,” You furrowed your brows before smiling a little, glancing up at him as you nodded, “I...I think I needed to hear that. I should make my way backstage, good luck!” 

Jimin tipped his fedora at you with a wink as he replied, “Too you as well, you’ll need it. Cya Y/n.” 

Keeping his words in mind you gave yourself a mini pep talk as you made your way backstage, it was even more crowded here then at a busy day at work and it was more chaotic than you could have ever imagined. You could do this. Being on stage wasn't what made you nervous anymore. It was getting off stage and finding out just what exactly Seasonella was. 

The stage manager nodded in acknowledgement as you stood off to the side, peering out from behind the stage where your heart did a little leap at the sight of Jungkook. Swallowing the lump in your throat at how good he looked in a three piece suit and his gelled, styled hair. He must have just started his routine, his music was bassy and slow and the floor he stood on wafted with smoke, presumably from dry ice off stage. 

Wrapping your arms around yourself you watched the way he easily swiveled his hips turning away from the audience, popping the jacket off his shoulders, oddly enough despite the large crowd nobody seemed to even be paying attention besides a few whistles here and there. Glancing over his shoulder he offered a sultry smirk, even after all this time he never failed to make your heart race and your face flushed as you dropped your gaze. He wasn’t even looking at you, in fact, he probably didn’t even know you were next in line up. Jungkook’s routine was slow and easy going as he began to shed his clothes, as if he was in no real hurry, soaking up his time on stage. 

He really was a natural.

Just the way his hips would slowly roll before snapping, those large calloused hands slowly running up against his chest to pop the first button of his white button up. You could easily see why Jungkook thrived in this environment, now thinking about it. It was easy because it was only skin deep, Jungkook was comfortable in his body and it showed, being a stripper was hard, but it was only skin deep, you didn’t have to get personal or open up to anyone in this business.

But even with all of that in mind, his eyes, it was always his eyes that showed when he wasn’t feeling his performance, when something was on his mind. Nobody ever seemed to notice it but you. No matter how many smirks and teasing smiles Jungkook flashed it was his eyes that seemed...disinterested? Maybe...maybe even upset?

You didn’t like it, it drove your instincts wild with a need to sit on his lap and grab his face to look at you and ask him what was wrong, but then again, did you really need to? Given what had happened this morning? He was upset when you pushed him away, hell he was upset when he left after his shower. Neither of you had spoken when he left either, he just kept looking at you, longingly, as if hoping maybe you’d speak to him, to give him a chance. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to speak to him, it was just...what was there to even talk about? He wasn’t going to convince you this was okay, because it wasn’t. None of this was okay. You didn’t like being on terms like this with him, but what else was there to discuss? It was what it was, all either of you could do was do your job. 

It wasn’t like you were mad at him, Jungkook was a stripper, but so were you. Yes it was upsetting and it hurt that he’d be sleeping with other people, but so were you...You sighed, massaging the temple of your head as you watched his hand slip down to squeeze the thick imprint that pressed against his slacks. You couldn’t stop the quirk in your lips at the sight, even when he was upset he still managed to sport a boner, of course he could.

It was odd watching him pop the button of his slacks, usually by this point girls were practically screaming, but instead it was quiet besides the song that played as the slacks fell off his thick muscular thighs that flexed. You were semi perplexed at the sight of Versace strapped against his skin rather than his regular Calvin Kleins, you couldn’t help but grind your teeth at the idea of that girl buying them for him. It had to be her. Eva.

Was she out in the crowd somewhere enjoying the show? Or was she intending on making him strip again just for her in private. The idea made you livid and the intense desire to jab her eyes out for even looking at what was yours. It was hard to imagine you were actually blushing and melting into your chair when you first laid eyes on Jungkook’s figure on stage. Now you just felt a vague sense of depression watching him hook his thumbs to the band of his boxers.

Maybe it was a sense of defeat that you felt watching him proudly flaunt his hardened cock on stage. A part of you couldn’t help but snicker though, it was so typical of him. Exibitionism was one of his biggest kinks after all. His song had come to an end, the stage lights dimming as people rushed past you, a robe in hand for Jungkook as he came off stage. 

No words were spoken, your gaze only catching his for a second before you were being ushered on stage. Nodding you hurried out in the blackout. Leaning against the pole you made yourself comfortable, it wasn’t time to think anymore. All you had to do was dance. 

The lights immediately flickered on as the intro of your music started out, the smirk immediately pulling on your lips as you turned your head to face the crowd. Most of the crowd wasn’t even paying attention to you, some people seated others standing and talking to one another. What even was Seasonella for? Just connection building for the wealthy?

Letting your hands drag up your body, you slide down the pole letting your legs open naturally before letting your knees drop to let your hands support you on the ground. Your face pressing against the ground as you let your hand circle around your face. Just who were these nameless faces? Just like Jungkook, you weren’t at your best performance. Not that anyone could tell as you rolled to your back letting your legs raise up and set against the pole before letting one slide down as your hands squeezed up your chest, the smile teasing on your lips as you sent a wink out to the crowd. 

That's when you saw him though, Jungkook fully dressed once more, hair damp from sweat and still adjusting the buttons of his loose black button up, his gaze not on Eva who was excitedly waiting for him, instead he was watching you as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Letting your legs open slightly you sat up with your thighs sandwiched between the pole as you rested your head against it, letting the jacket fall off your shoulders as you sent a flirty gasp at the crowd before letting it drop to the ground. 

Making your way to stand up you swayed your hips as you turned to face the crowd, a smug look twisting on to your features at the sight of Eva obviously not happy at your boyfriend checking you out. Keeping a wide stance you dropped slightly to circle your ribs while letting your hands drag up your thighs, teasingly pulling your skirt up higher. Turning to face the wall you curved your spine to highlight your ass as you teased even more, pulling the skirt up to flash the lingerie you wore before tugging the skirt back down. 

You noticed whatever position Jungkook was in he must have left, or maybe Eva had dragged him away at the short time span your back was facing the audience, regardless they couldn’t have left already, right? Pulling your shirt from it’s tuck in your skirt you pulled it out farther as you sunk back down to a slut drop, they couldn’t have gotten far.

Just as you stood back up, hooking your thumb beneath the fabric of your top, a smirk flashed towards the audience that only a few eyes watched you curiously with, that’s when your eyes tracked that messy head of hair again. Jungkook was sitting down, his arm wrapped around Eva who was more than happily snuggled against him, chatting away with what appeared to be her friends. The other person who had stuck out to you was Diego who sat at their table, his eyes however, unshockingly were roaming your body. 

You decided to pay him no mind as you pulled the shirt over your head, letting your upper body become exposed and the glittery, strappy push up bra become displayed. Maybe you were just imagining it but you could have swore Eva had jumped in Jungkook’s tightening grip. His eyes also on you while occasionally glaring daggers at Diego. God you would kill to be listening to that conversation. 

Letting your hips sway softly you strutted further up stage, your arms over head before they groped their way down your body. Turning to face away from the crowd you looked over your shoulder, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you reached for the clasp of your bra. Unhooking it before letting it drop to the ground leaving your bare back on display. 

Turning to face the audience you let your hips begin to sink once more as you let them sway hiding your breasts teasingly behind your hands that began to massage them. It was weird, being in a reversed role where it was your eyes that met Jungkooks from the stage, rather than the other way around. 

Except rather than squirming in embarrassment Jungkook had zero shame in letting his eyes roam all over your body, his lip catching between his teeth and you were all too familiar with that dark look in his eyes. His chin lifting a little in that standoffish, domineering way it always did when he got turned on. 

You however, weren’t yourself at the moment. Rather shy away from his gaze you welcomed it, letting your lips twitch back into a cocky smirk as your hands traveled down your body, your tits perking a little in arousal as your hands slid down your skirt. You could practically see the way Jungkook was eye fucking you, his hand that about been resting on the table curling into a fist and his expression becoming darker by the moment. 

You hadn’t said anything, hell you hadn’t even done anything, but you could tell he wanted to put you over his lap. And there was nothing he could do about it. Something about being aware of that practically made your confidence shoot through the roof as you sent him a playful wink. Effortlessly pushing down the skirt that complied, hitting the ground to reveal the almost light golden, sequin g string you wore beneath, the sheer gold stockings and garter belt to match on display. You could even hear a few whistles from the audience only making you that much cockier. 

And Jungkook was livid. So livid. Despite sitting far away you could see the way his jaw clenched and his fist uncurled and impatiently tapped against the table, as if itching to get his hands on you. Arousal instantly shot between your legs, his dark, lust filled gaze making your body anxious granted this was the most inconvenient timing ever.

If they saw you wet, then that’s just what was gonna happen, you’d just blame it on Jungkook given he was the reason you were in this state. There was no point in worrying about it now. With that in mind you sunk to the ground, crawling out on your hands and knees, letting your tits bounce a little as you dropped to your forearms. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, the vein on his neck popped and you could even see his chest puffing a little. 

The sight made you want to laugh, and for a split second a genuine smile wiggled it’s way onto your lips, before the seductive one quickly took back over as your thighs slid to the ground. Rolling on to your back your vision of him was upside down but that didn’t deter you from letting your hands drag back up your body, letting them squeeze against your breasts as your thighs rubbed together, warm arousal beginning to make your panties stick your folds as you let your body begin to roll as your hips thrusted upwards. 

Your hands sliding back down your body as you began to tug your panties off, gaze never breaking away from Jungkook’s figure, that looked close to a starved man ready to sit between your thighs at the moment. Your panties were unshockingly wet as you kicked them off. As if you weren’t aroused before you certainly were now, naked on stage for the whole floor to see. But with your eyes locked with Jungkook’s it wasn’t like that, it was just you and him at the moment. No party, no one else, just you and him. 

Pulling yourself to sit up you turned to face the audience once more on your knees, a cocky smile tugging on your lips as you let them slide apart. Your cunt was aching and glistening at being exposed as your hands ran up your body, playing with your hair as you heard another round of whistles.

But this wasn’t about them, this was about Jungkook’s clenched jaw and the way he bounced his knee impatiently, the way his fingers twitched against his glass and his eyes roaming all over your exposed body. You didn’t need to see his lap to know he was hard. Crawling back on your hands and knees one last time you sent a one more wink to the audience before rolling to the side. Sitting upright as you finished your last pose. 

The lights went black as you quickly stood up. Walking off stage as best you could in your heels as you grabbed the robe from one of the stage assistants. Wrapping it around your body you let a giggle escape your lips.

Jungkook was turned on, but so were you. You’ll forever have the look on his face stained in your head, maybe something you both could laugh over later and then bang because it would make him horny. 

Walking back to your dressing room you closed the door. Kicking off your heels as you pulled your hair up into a bun to focus on getting dressed. Sitting down you unclipped your stockings before walking over to your bag. You supposed your black mini dress would do, and maybe you’d wear a pair of your black fishnet stockings to go with it? Biting against your lip you figured that would do it before getting changed. Fixing the deep v neck that plunged, showing off your cleavage before pulling out a black pair of pumps to match. 

You wouldn’t be able to talk to Jungkook...but maybe taking Diego up on his offer meant you could see him more? It was a gamble. Nibbling against your lip you fixed your hair in the mirror, putting your phone in the cup of your bra before adjusting it to not make it look obvious. Would you even want to see him this weekend? 

Regardless Diego Friar might as well have been a pile of money sitting at your doorstep, he would be paying you for your company and you knew he’d pay well. This was why you were doing this after all. This was supposed to justify the means. Somehow. Nodding you stood up before heading out. Soloist’s seemed to do more of the entertaining for the guests than actually dancing, although you couldn’t say it was completely true for you. You still had five more dances to get through tonight but at least you had a good hour break before going on back to back. 

Did they really only keep you here as prostitutes? You couldn’t help but wonder about that question, hardly anyone even watched you show. Pushing the door open to enter into the main room you let your eyes wash over the crowd. Why not just hire prostitutes? 

It was legal here in Nevada, why make the strippers do it under dubious consent? Surely the clients budget wasn’t that tight. You supposed there was no point in making sense of it. While Diego would pay for your company, you wouldn’t lie if you said there weren't any underlying motives here. Diego was the client's son, surely he’d know what was going on...Not that you assumed he’d willingly tell you but...A little investigating wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You knew the only thing you needed to focus on was getting to the end of the weekend, but you couldn’t help but wonder, if something illegal was going on here, shouldn’t somebody stop it? Stopping in front of the table you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you to see Diego standing up, as if waiting confidently, knowing you would come to this table. 

“That was some performance doll.” He sent you a wink, his lips quirked into a smirk confidently, as if you had completely done that just for him. Had Diego not caught on between you and Jungkook? Or was he really that distracted by your body?

You offered a small smile in return as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I told you I was saving my energy. So I was thinking,” You stretched your sentence as a playful smile tugged on your lips, “About your deal.” 

Diego’s smirk was only reinforced by your words as he confidently strode up to you, “And?” The idea of sleeping with Diego was... less than appealing... but you had a lot of options to weigh here. The first being you were likely to see Jungkook more often, the second being you wouldn’t be passed from creep to creep and the third and last option was the one which wasn’t a good idea. 

You wanted to know why the hell Seasonella existed, what was its purpose, who were these people? Diego was the client's son, if somebody knew the ropes of this party, it was him. 

‘I’ve heard all kinds of rumors about our strippers coming here and not returning to Korea because of being difficult’

That’s the same words Jungkook told you. He wanted you to just go with the flow so nothing happened to you. Going with Diego was both the safest and most dangerous option, depending on how you played your cards. But you were willing to make a deal with the devil to find out, “I’ll agree to it, with some ground rules,” 

Diego chuckled, shifting his weight from one foot to another, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, though it almost seemed vaguely patronizing, “Alright doll, that’s fair enough, what are these rules?”

“Condoms on at all times,” You immediately listed off, attempting to not wrinkle your nose at the idea of feeling him..raw...inside you...it made your stomach churn unpleasantly, “I’m not looking to get knocked up,” You offered a humored smile despite it feeling mildly forced, “And I want my mornings to myself,” You added, remembering Jungkook’s words, him telling you to ask for the mornings so you could at least be together then, “Two rules, and I’m all yours.”

You knew Jungkook wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe. But you needed answers, you needed to know why this was happening. And furthermore, what part of this was illegal, if any at all. 

Diego gave you a smile, his arm immediately wrapping around you as he replied, “Your rules are gold baby. You won’t be disappointed. C’mon, let's get you a drink and sit down.” It felt weird being held by somebody else while sipping on your classic margarita, taking a seat down at the table where Jungkook’s eyes glared at the arm wrapped around your shoulder like it pissed him off. It probably did. You could only hope Jungkook didn’t get the wrong idea about this, you weren’t doing this to spite him. 

You did it for multiple reasons, none which even involved him...Well, none that involved him in a bad way. But to see Jungkook so...docile in a situation like this? In a situation  “This is Y/n, the lovely doll I’ve been talking about.” Diego introduced you to his friends, mutual friends of Eva as well you assumed. It was coincidental that you and Jungkook just so happened to be sitting on the inside of the table next to one another, a respectful distance between you both given you both were supposed to be closer to each sibling. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You gave a bright smile at the man- Lorenzo who was an italian with a strong accent and didn’t seem incredibly familiar with Koren, but enough that you could hold a steady conversation, he also seemed to be a considerably close friend of Diego’s compared to all of the others, “I hope you’ve been enjoying the show up on stage.” 

What you hadn’t expected was a large, wrathful hand to harshly clamp your inner thigh making you nearly choke on your drink, callous fingers digging into your soft skin while roughly massaging closer to your core. 

Your eyes sent sharp daggers to Jungkook’s figure, who was innocently on his side of the table, his free arm wrapped around Eva while conversing with her and one of her friends, acting as if he totally wasn’t groping you. This was not the time or place to be doing this! 

“Ah yes, you put on quite the show.” You gave a forced smile at Lorenzo as you tried to wiggle your leg from Jungkook's grasp, it was useless though as he squeezed harder, his nails pleasantly digging into your skin as if in warning to stop. 

It wasn’t even fair, Jungkook was speaking to Eva and her friends in english which you could only pick bits and pieces of conversation out of while he could hear everything you said. You tried your best, you really did. But Jungkook’s long thick fingers were making it difficult to focus, never quite making it to where you had hoped it would, but just enough to keep you on edge. 

Was this some possessive display or reminder to you? You wished you could just ask Jungkook what his problem was. Maybe he was mad you weren’t wearing your collar, but could he really expect you too when...You couldn’t help but shudder. This was going to be a long night. 

The night dragged on and admittedly, you couldn’t help but tense at all the pleasantries, you honestly assumed Diego would jump you the moment he got his hands on you but then again, he was from a prestigious family, clearly. 

You sighed as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, rubbing the towel over the back of your neck that had broken out in a sweat, you were used to dancing on stage but something about being here had made you nervous. You weren’t sure what it was but the whole vibe of this place put you on edge. Shaking your head you pulled the skirt up to your waist before finishing putting on the rest of your clothes. 

Dread filled your stomach but you couldn’t help it, anytime you weren’t dancing you were with Diego, you assumed the moment he got you alone he’d jump you but he had behaved well...But now your night of stripping was over, your body was tired and so were you but...Well you had a feeling the night had only just begun in other ways. 

Jungkook had disappeared a while ago with Eva and her friends, he had finished earlier in the night then you but given he was more social it wasn’t a surprise he had stayed to converse with her and her friends. Or maybe it was Eva who wanted to stay longer?

You couldn’t help but feel a simmering anger boil inside you at the idea of someone controlling and dictating the man you loved. You forcibly calmed yourself as you pushed your hair off your shoulder. This wasn’t the time to brood of this, it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Could you even be mad at Jungkook? No, not when you were with Diego. 

Something about the situation made you grit your teeth as you pushed the door to your dressing room open. Why were you so powerless in a situation like this? You had never seen Jungkook let himself be powerless either. 

Pausing you glanced at the ground as people rushed past you, the night on stage still very much alive and even busier than you had ever seen before. If Jungkook was too scared to speak up or if he was worried for you, then you’d do it for him. You nodded affirming to yourself.

Whatever the Friar’s were up too....You weren’t just going to sit still and watch your friends get bullied by them. The idea made your lips twitch and your fist coil in anger, why the fuck was nobody saying anything to them!? 

Closing your eyes briefly you let your shoulders relax as you began to walk. It’s okay, they have all been there to help you on your feet. Now you’d stand beside them and defend them just as they have you. You didn’t know who these people were but you were going to find out. 

Walking out of the back and into the large lounge your eyes scoped Diego who seemed to be talking to two other men...He hadn’t introduced you so they must have been work related contacts. 

Walking over you gave a bright smile as Diego’s eyes landed on you, pausing conversation with the two men as he waved you over, “Finished up doll?” You nodded, feigning innocence to the two men’s stares that leered on you as Diego squeezed your chin, “Good. Tell you what baby, how about you head up to my room? I’ll catch up with you soon, I just have some business to take care of.” 

You felt an odd shiver down your spine at his words. Business? At three in the morning? You still gave a smile as you nodded, “Of course! I’ll see you soon then.” You winked as you took the passcard from his hand, a charming expression on your face as you nodded to the two men before turning around. 

You didn’t like this one bit. You glanced around in hopes of finding a familiar face but everyone seemed foreign to your eyes. Sighing, you shook your head a little, glancing down at the passcard to Diego’s room, number listed on it as you headed for the elevator.

Staying still you intended to enter the elevator only for your eyes to widen at the heated sight as the doors slid open, the familiar head of hair sucking harshly on skin as the woman moaned, Seokjin suddenly straightened up at the sight of you as he coughed harshly. 

The girl jumped before turning around as she gave a sheepish smile before glancing up at him with pink cheeks, “Thanks for seeing me down, i’ll see you later.” She winked as she stepped out of the elevator just as you stepped in. 

It was quiet for a moment as you and Seokjin awkwardly stood there, “I uh-”

“It’s cool.” You immediately cut him off as you both glanced at each other, unable to keep the awkward tense though as you both let out a small laugh, “She seemed happy.” 

“I’d hope so,” Seokjin scoffed, not going into detail but you could tell they obviously had just finished sleeping together, if Seokjin’s sweat drenched and messy hair was anything to go by, his eyes glancing up at the number that ticked up in the elevator, “I’m assuming you’re headed for Diego’s?” 

You gave a small nod before sighing, “Yeah...he had ‘business’ to take care of so he’s meeting me later…” You parted your lips for a moment before closing them once more, glancing up at Seokjin’s figure before asking, “...Seokjin…” Gaining his attention he glanced down at you as he raised his brows a little, “What’s going on here?” 

You watched his shoulders tense a little as he pressed his lips together, glancing away from you before letting his gaze flicker across the elevator as if searching for something, “...Sometimes...it’s better to be ignorant Y/n,” You frowned at his cryptic words, Seokjin’s gaze on you was like a heavy weight, as if they were drilling through your soul as he continued, “Don’t look for something you’ll regret finding out. I saw Jungkook earlier.” Your frown deepened at his abrupt change of topic. 

What was it that they knew that you didn’t? All you had heard were rumors thus far. It was obvious Seokjin and the others knew something was going on, so why weren’t they doing anything about it? Was it really easier to just turn a blind eye to whatever was happening? 

Deciding to drop the subject you held in a sigh as you glanced up at the numbers sliding above the door, “Yeah…?” You kept your tone neutral, not wanting to say you didn’t want to hear it, but on the other hand you were a little curious. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin clacked his tongue before snorting, “He didn’t look happy. Just kept staring at you on stage like a little puppy before Eva dragged him away.” You didn’t reply to his words for a moment. Were you surprised? No. Did it warm your heart?...Maybe a little...But still, you needed to play your cards carefully. The last thing you needed was Eva catching wind of your relation to Jungkook outside of being his trainee. 

“Well he’s just going to have to deal with it.” You replied, not intending to come off as cold as you did making Seokjin turn to face you, his brows raised in somewhat surprise making you sighed as your expression softened a little, “What can I do about it Seokjin? What’s the point in talking about it? It just…” You inhaled sharply before letting it out, “It’s already upsetting, why even talk about it?” 

You hadn’t even meant to project onto him, but you couldn’t help it, the early morning of what had happened with Jungkook was still fresh in your mind, what did he want from you? To say it was okay? That it would all be okay? It wasn’t okay! None of this was okay!

Seokjin frowned a little, his own expression softening a little as he nodded solemnly, “I can understand to a degree. But you can’t ignore him forever. What are you gonna do when all of this is over? Pretend like it never happened?” 

Glaring down at the floor you didn’t reply for a moment before answering, “I don’t know. And I’m not gonna think about it right now. I have a lot more on my plate to focus on.” The doors slid open with a ding as you glanced ahead. Seokjin frowned at your words, wanting to respond but not having the time as you turned to give him a small smile, “Good luck Seokjin, I’ll see you later.” 

Walking out of the elevator you kept a clear head as you walked down the eerily silent hallway, the elevator closed behind you leaving you all by yourself, the corridor was long and if you had gotten too close to a door you could hear soft moans from inside. 

Stepping back to keep in center only to jolt at the sound of a loud crash and a muffled scream, “Be quiet you bitch!” Adrenaline shot through your veins at the muffled snarl of a man at the you were about to pass, “I’ll be back soon and you better be fucking prepared to perform again.” 

You scrambled away from the door, heart pounding in your chest as the door ripped open, the sounds of sobs inside before the door slammed shut. 

Footsteps stomped down the hallway until they could no longer be heard, when you heard the distinct sound of the elevator you timidly turned around...Should you…? Of course you should! Whatever had happened, it didn’t sound good. Nodding to yourself you swallowed thickly as you  walked back to the door as you frowned. The sobbing was still muffled but could be heard inside and it was enough to break your heart...It wasn’t your business but…

You gently knocked on the door, no response sounding, just tears. Gently you opened the door, timidly gazing inside only to feel your heart crumble at the familiar sight. 

Chan Hee. 

Naked yet curled up, not on the bed, but on the ground against it with her knees curled to her chest and tears streaming down her face, an ugly welt on her cheek as her body trembled. Fumbling you closed the door behind you as you rushed up to her figure that seemed so small in comparison to any other time you’ve seen her.

Chan Hee, was the image of confidence, of not caring whether people saw her as bitchy or conceited. To see her so weak, so vulnerable, it crushed you more than you ever thought it would, “Chan Hee?” You weakly called out as you kneeled down, grabbing the throw blanket off the bed as she whimpered, her arms squeezing tightly around her knees, “Y-you should go.” She stammered, tears streaking down her cheeks as you wrapped the blanket around her body, “H-he’ll b-be back soon…” 

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself.” You gritted your teeth, brows pinching together in anger as she sniffled, yes you may not have been on the best terms with her but you’d never turn your back to someone in need  and right now she needed someone, “For all the differences we might have I would never leave you or anyone else here.”

Her fists coiled around the blanket as she lowered her gaze, trembling as tears dripped down her cheeks, standing up you gathered her clothes that were scattered across the floor before sitting down next to her, “Nobody fucking told me it would be a whore house here.” She sniffed as she gritted her teeth, wiping her eyes once more with trembling hands. 

“I was told…” You murmured as you glanced at the floor, Chan Hee glancing at you as she rubbed her eyes, “But I just didn’t listen, didn’t even think about it.” You gave a hurmorless smile at the floor before it dropped, silently berating yourself on how ignorant you chose to be despite the many times Jungkook warned you, “I was so naive and dumb, it didn’t even register in my brain until this morning.

It was quiet for a moment as you both sat in silence before you shuffled, “C’mon, let’s get you dressed. I’d rather not be here when he comes back.” Chan Hee shakily sat herself on the bed, surprisingly letting you help her get dressed.

Her legs were particularly twitchy, her eyes seemed glassy still and her gaze distant, “...I didn’t care at first,” She whispered under her breath, not looking at you as you pulled the top over her head, “...Sex is sex, it was just another tip under my belt...But after the first round...it was just too much,” Her eyes were beginning to water again as she scoffed despite her lips quivering, “...And even when I told him to stop he-” She inhaled, choking back a sob that made your own eyes water. 

Kneeling down in front of her you gently grabbed her hands, her gaze was down in her lap as fresh tears trickled down her cheeks, it was odd seeing Chan Hee seem so...ashamed, broken even, “Chan Hee, I know apologizing isn’t going to fix what happened, but I am sorry. It shouldn’t be like this, everything in Seasonella... Come on, where’s your room at? You shouldn’t be subjected to this anymore.” 

Chan Hee didn’t reject your movement as you helped her up, your pulse speeding up as you opened the door, timidly glancing around before walking up ahead to the other elevator, only praying you wouldn’t run into the man that did this, “Fifth floor, 32.” She murmured, her body trembling a little as you both got into the elevator. 

The strippers floor was quiet, almost all rooms vacant as everyone was out filling client rooms or dancing, you helped Chan Hee into her room as you set her on her bed, feeling a little lost until she weakly laid down, “I’ll be okay,” She murmured, curling up against her covers as she hugged her pillow, “...thank you.” Two words and yet they felt so hopeless and sad, you mustered a small smile as you nodded before reluctantly turning around. 

Your thoughts lingered on Chan Hee before flittering to Seokjin’s words, and then briefly they stayed on Jungkook. Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose as you shook your head, pushing the cardkey into the slot before walking into the large room. 

What you didn’t expect was the room to be vacant. You had been gone at least twenty minutes and Diego still wasn’t here? You frowned as you warily stepped into the room, it at first appeared like a lodge of some sort, couches facing each other with a small kitchen at the back wall, up the two steps however was the large king size bed and a desk with a dresser nearby. Despite the room's large size, his main bedroom seemed almost small. 

Your eyes honed in on the messy desk, Seokjin’s words replaying in your mind before Chan Hee’s figure reminded you why you were here. Maybe they would pretend like everything was okay and bare it, but you weren’t. Not when stuff like this was happening. Carefully you glanced around the room before looking over your shoulder at the door as you walked up to the desk. 

Pushing through some of the paper you frowned as you picked up a document of sorts. 

Warehouse 15: Currently full 

Shipments will need to be made by the 22nd and deadlines for payments will be cut off by the 25th when the cargo has arrived, we’ll need to gain the last set of the cargo during the weekend of the 18th-

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, hurriedly dropping the document as you swiftly turned around. Diego’s figure was skewered by the corner of the wall, “You’re here.” You welcomed as you painted a smile on your face despite the back of your mind rampantly running at whatever you just read, warehouse 15? What was held in it that was full? And clients? Was this what Seasonella was about? Today was the 18th, the start of the weekend…

“Seems someone is eager to see me.” Diego sent you a wink as he pulled the jacket off as you felt your smile tense a little, he seemed tired as he loosened his tie. 

You slowly made your way down the two steps into the main lodge as you sat down on the couch, “Well it was getting a little lonely here...Did you take care of your business?” You asked carefully, keeping your eyes wide and doe like to appear innocent as you folded your hands into your lap. 

Diego chuckled a little, unbuttoning his waist coat as he sat down a little closer to you then you would’ve liked but you didn’t move away, “Yes, it’s all finished now. No need to worry about that doll, c’mere.” You squeaked a little at the way his hands grabbed onto your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap. 

It felt foreign as you had never slept with a client before and the only man you had slept with in months was...Jungkook...you felt somewhat nauseous thinking about him, thinking about what you were about to do, “You’ve got all my attention now,” Diego licked his lips as he pushed the hair from your face, your body tense as you resisted to pull away from his touch like you wanted. 

It wasn’t warm and tender like Jungkook’s, one that made you want to bury further into him. No, this felt somewhat condescending in a way, as if your hand was being twisted behind your back and his grip was lifeless of any sort of care or love, “Relax baby, you seem so tense.” Diego purred as his hands slid to your waist. 

You let the smile turn more charismatic as you giggled a little, shrugging as you forced your thoughts into the back of your head, “It’s just been a...long day...but incredible I mean…” You let your smile turn more coy, girlish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m in Las Vegas, it’s a little overwhelming...I just can’t help but wonder, how did Seasonella begin Diego?” You tilted your head innocently as you let your hands press gently against his chest.

 “Curious are we?” He chuckled a little, a smirk coiling on his lips as you rolled your hips a little enticingly, the more you gave the more willing he’d be to speak on this, or so you hoped, “Seasonella was originally just an annual meeting held between my fathers men yearly,” His hands rested on your hips as you swayed them against his, letting them roll along the hardening bulge of his cock,, “It slowly began to grow into his men bringing other references, and those references bring theirs until it grew even more, eventually it became more like an open party to the right people to come and do business with us. It’s what made our wealth skyrocket.” 

You were having a difficult time relaxing as he leaned in against your neck, lips trailing along your neck as your breath catched a little as you focused everything onto his words. You’d need more than that to go on. You wiggled your hips a little more as you pulled away, letting your lips tug into a cute pout before letting them twist into a playful smile, “And that’s it? That’s how you started taking strippers from across the globe to attend?” 

Diego placed his hands on your hips as you gave them a little sway, pretending as if you totally hadn’t felt his obviously lacking hard on, “When the meeting starting becoming bigger and more akin to a party we started hiring on entertainment,” You could see the way Diego was becoming more pliable, more willing to spill whatever you wanted so you could hurry up, “Of course it ended up benefiting us in the end, we invest they give us girls. It works out.” 

What…? 

Diego, perhaps realizing how his words sounded didn’t give you a chance to question him further, you squeaked as he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you as you swallowed thickly, “But enough of that doll. I’m more interested in how tight that little cunt is.”  You jumped a little at his lips attaching to your neck, the sharp moan leaving you before you could stop it. 

Diego’s hands dragged their way down your waist as you squirmed beneath him, controlling your breaths as adrenaline shot through your veins. Just today  and tomorrow, that’s all you needed to get through. 

“Kookie, why have you been so quiet?” Eva turned to face him with a pouty frown, shifting the blanket to cover her plump perky breasts as she laid her head against her arms, observing the way Jungkook laid on his back, his expression dimmed and the frown harshly twisted on his lips. 

The door had just closed and her friend who had joined them in such an incredible night in bed had taken her leave. Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment, unsure of how to before he finally shrugged, sitting up as the blanket fell off his chest revealing the broad chiseled sight that was making her rub her thighs together all over again, “Eva can I be honest with you?”

It was a dumb question, because while he was sure she was going to say yes despite the likelihood that she’d accept his words was….rather slim.

Eva gave him a wide, excited smile, as if she thought for sure he was slowly beginning to open up to her. Sitting up eagerly, she clutched the sheets against her chest as she gave him a timid smile, “Of course you can Jungkook, I’ll never judge you.” Rather than make him smile though Jungkook’s brows only furthered as he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, “What do you think we are, relationally speaking?” He wanted to cringe at the question, but it was something he had been thinking about. Eva had continuously gloated to her friends about her ‘boyfriend when Jungkook had made himself clear several times before that he was not her boyfriend.. 

Eva’s cheeks dusted a light pink as she glanced coyly at the blankets, “Well...I thought I made my point Kook. If it weren’t for my studies I’d be in Korea...with you...I like you....a lot...I have since we met last year.” 

Jungkook didn’t mean to let the groan escape him but it was too late, Eva had stiffened somewhat as she glanced at him carefully awaiting his response, “Eva….” His words didn’t sound promising he knew it, but Jungkook wanted to make himself very clear, “You do understand that I’m only here because I have to be here? Right? You’re a nice girl but…” Should he bring you into this conversation? No...he’ll need to make it discreet, “I’ve met someone...Someone I really love...” 

Jungkook felt somewhat timid meeting her gaze, it was worse than he had hoped for truthfully. Eva was as stiff as a board and her gaze was darkening by the second before she gave a loud scoff that came out as if she was trying to force it into a laugh, her smile sharper than usual as she replied, “Love…? Maybe it’s just me but if you really loved someone, you wouldn’t be working as a stripper and sleeping with people behind her back.”

Jungkook had parted his lips to object but quickly snapped them shut, remembering he had told himself he was leaving you out of this. He couldn’t help but feel guilty though, did he really love you if he was doing this? He could feel it eating him alive inside as she gave him a snide smile, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I get it Jungkook I do, we’ve been apart a year, but just give it a shot!” 

Eva ignored the way his body tensed as she climbed into his lap, cupping his face as her smile softened a little, “I think we could really work Jungkook...besides...you know I can offer you anything she could and even more,” Jungkook’s jaw clenched against her grip and he refused to meet her eyes, “And you know it, I’ll take care of you, provide for you, my family will keep you safe from KOI and I know how much of a strangle hold they’ve had on you before.” 

Letting her forehead rest against his she leaned in, his lips were so soft and addictive. Eva only felt them for a few seconds before she was pushed away, her lips even parted in somewhat offense at the aggressive and cold glare he gave her, “I’ll sleep with you all you want, I’ll play boyfriend while I’m here, I’ll let you have your fun with your friends,” She whined a little as he shoved her against the bed climbing on top of her, “But don’t you ever fucking kiss me like you’re actually apart of my life. You know nothing about me or who I am and it’s going to be kept this way.”

Jungkook roughly rolled her onto her stomach as he growled, “Now I’m gonna spank this ass until it’s bruised and you’re gonna count you disobedient bitch.” He didn’t even wait for her to speak, she was already moaning and whining as his hand slammed against the delicate pale skin of her ass. Jungkook didn’t care how much she knew about him or how much she could dangle his past over his head, there would always be few things off limits and this was one of them. 

…

It was morning, you knew it was. Light streamed through the windows and it looked like a beautiful day outside, blue sky with billowing white clouds. If you were back home in Korea you would’ve begged Jungkook to take you to the market where you’d go to look for plants and succulents to add to your collection. 

But you weren’t home. No. You were in Diego Friar’s bed with thighs that ached and like they were on fire with your stomach churning for the past thirty minutes. He had left a while ago saying he had work to take care of and that he’d meet you in the cafe for breakfast. That was okay, you didn’t want him to stay anyways. You felt gross, every inch of your body felt disgusting and you knew a shower wouldn’t be enough to make you feel better. 

Trying to ignore the dull throb of your stomach you sat up feeling somewhat numb as you carefully dressed yourself. Glancing at Diego’s desk you deflated even more, all the paper that had been thrown across was gathered and most likely taken by him this morning. Standing up you winced as you forced yourself to walk. You weren’t going to break down...you weren’t going to break down crying…

No matter how much you repeated it in your head you still felt tears glossing in your eyes as you punched the bottom floor button, the elevator was making your stomach feel even worse as you groaned silently, the elevator was too small and there were too many people here. 

As soon as the doors slid open you pushed your way out, the churn of your stomach becoming too much and you needed to find a bathroom, fast, “Oh hey Y/n-” Jimin’s eyes widened a little as you shoved past him and into the bathroom. 

Unable to even lock the stall door as you lurched down onto your knees, the sour taste of alcohol and last night's meal coming up as you coughed rancidly, spitting out bile as tears trickled down your cheeks from the force of your cough as you began to dry heave up any last bits. 

Sitting down against the toilet you couldn’t help but let the tears trickle down your face as you let out a sob. God you felt disgusting, would Jungkook even want to be with you today after knowing...After seeing? Your hands trembled as you sobbed into them. Sniffling harshly as you forced yourself up to stand, flushing away the reminder of what had happened before wobbling out to the sink to fix yourself up. 

Your eyes still looked bloodshot but it wasn’t notable as long as someone didn’t stare for long, you rinsed your mouth out with the sink water, gurgling a few times as you gagged while spitting it out, the raw burn of your throat a reminder of what had just happened. 

Opening the door you jumped a little to see the sight of Jimin leaning against the wall with one foot, arms crossed as his eyes landed on you, a frown quirking onto his lips as he sighed, “...You...look like you’ve seen better days.” He picked his words carefully, “You good?” 

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach already despite having just thrown up, “As well as I can be, I just...Sorry I didn’t mean to push you, I just uh...threw up.” You gave a weak smile as Jimin examined your figure, “Sorry. It’s just been a long night.” 

He nodded understandingly, “Well I’m sure your body is already going through a lot as it is, you should really lay down and rest.” You sighed at his words, glancing away from him as you rubbed your forehead. 

“I told Diego i’d be at breakfast in the cafe....What are you doing here?” You pressed your brows together as you tilted your head, why was Jimin here anyways? You had been in too much of a rush to think much of it before.

Jimin snorted, “I was going to breakfast but after you rushed past me I figured I’d stay behind to check on you. Like I said, you look like you’ve seen better days. Who cares about Diego? I’m sure he won’t be hurt if you skip.” 

“...Well yeah but…” You trailed off with a frown causing Jimin to peer at you somewhat confused as you sighed, stepping closer to him as you lowered your voice, “...You’re the only one I’m going to tell but...Something is going on here Jimin,” You glanced up at him, your gaze serious and even boarding harsh as you continued, “And I’m going to find out what it is and stop it.” 

Jimin’s gaze hardened a little as he frowned, “Y/n…” He shook his head a little in disdain as you scoffed while stepping away from him. Why was it everyone was so fucking scared? This wasn’t right! Whatever it was! “These people are dangerous...Be careful. I need to go get breakfast for myself and Rosé but...just be careful okay? There’s a reason a lot of us just leave it alone.” His gaze was a silent warning as you nodded reservedly before you let Jimin walk past you. 

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose. Why must everything be so secretive?

Breakfast hour was always Jungkook’s favorite part of Seasonella, free food and he could officially go and sleep off the ache of his body for the rest of the day before rinse repeat in this scenario. It was normal to eat with said client and no matter how annoying it was Jungkook would tolerate it when you were just in eyesight. 

No matter how much it pissed him off. You wouldn’t meet his gaze and he knew exactly why, your neck was shamelessly covered in hickies and there was a slight limp in your walk when you showed up, oddly by yourself and it for a moment made every sense in his body tell him to go sit with you and coddle you.

 It was like his conversation with Eva the night before hadn’t even existed, either she was truly dense or she was cooking something up. 

Jungkook didn’t like the way she smiled and laughed with all of her friends, some passing jokes to each other in hopes of maybe buttering him up about how good he was in bed to get one more round in before he’d call it quits. But no amount of jokes or compliments were getting him to budge. He had managed a few smiles and jokes as well but nothing more than playful banter. 

He kept his gaze towards you minimally, but he felt somewhat useless when his gaze met yours, had you been looking at him too? 

Jungkook could feel his outer charming mask begin to crumble at the way your lips quivered and your eyes shooting back down to your untouched food. The sudden need to touch you, to hold you filling his veins. His fingers began to thrum against the table in impatience before he checked his phone, he couldn’t wait, it was nearly killing him.

Jungkook swallowed thickly at how sharp and dry your words over text were, were you actually okay. You hadn’t looked at him once when you got up from the table, your food untouched as you left. He could only sigh and endure the rest of breakfast until he was finally free of Eva’s claws the rest of the day. 

Jungkook’s body was objecting to every sluggish step he took back to his room, it had been awhile since he actually pulled an all nighter, well into the morning hours without any sleep whatsoever. Rubbing his eyes he yawned as he opened the door, quietly closing it as he felt his once tense muscles relaxed at the familiar sight. 

You were curled up against the bed, the large hoody- his as a matter of fact, drowning your body and the hood pulled over your head while you buried in the large pillows. Jungkook felt his lips curve a little into a soft smile as he changed out of his sticky previously sweat stained clothes, feeling relieved to just be comfortable once more as he drew the large thick currents over the window to darken the room before he sat down on the bed. His hand gently stroking your waist. 

What he hadn’t expected was the violent jolt from you before jerking away making him frown. Jungkook had anticipated you wanting his touch after such an...intense night but, maybe he was wrong... His jaw clenched slightly at the way your body tensed and didn’t seem to relax at the realization he was in bed with you. He didn’t even want to think about what you went through last night. 

Not wanting to push your comfort zone Jungkook sighed as he laid down on his side of the bed, your back was turned to him and you hadn’t even greeted him yet. Oh well, words didn’t need to be spoken. Jungkook could only let his gaze longingly stare against your figure that was curled away from him. God he just wanted to hold you, now he couldn’t even do that. 

....

Your mind felt fuzzy, that kind of drowsiness you wake up with when you decide to take a nap at an odd hour and when you wake up you don’t know what time it is and if it’s day or night. You groaned as you rolled over, your muscles gripping at the sight of an empty bed. Where did Jungkook go? 

You were aware you hadn’t been...the kindest...but maybe you were just still reeling from last night. That didn’t mean you didn’t want to see him though...You felt yourself relax at the sight of Jungkook appearing from the bathroom, his lips quirking up a little at the sight of your half awake figure. 

“I have a bath running, we need to get you cleaned up.” Jungkook sat down on the side of the bed as he let his hand stroke through your hair, your body flinched a little at the contact, your poor scalp was still sore from how much Diego had pulled on your hair. Jungkook frowned before tenderly letting his fingers run along your scalp. 

“Thanks.” You replied dryly, a tiny bit of humor detected in your tone while letting your lips tug into a tiny smile, it was hard to keep a straight face when you were around Jungkook, even like this. It was something Jungkook seemed to return so easily, his fingers sliding down to your cheek to gently stroke along it. 

“That’s not what I meant,” He clacked his tongue, trying to give you a scolding look but failing as his lips twisted into a smile, “C’mere,” Jungkook internally sighed, his heart broke for you, he could see how much you were struggling to not instinctively push him away as your body tensed and flinched as he picked you up. You really were trying your best to relax in his grip as he carried you to the bathroom, “It’s not about you being dirty, it’s about me not wanting you to get an infection.” 

Jungkook already had a fresh set of clothes folded neatly on the closed toilet seat as he set you on the counter, tugging off the sweatshirt that covered your body as he sighed. His lips unable to stay smiling as they twisted into a sad frown at the hickies your body sported and bruises on your hips in the shape of fingers.

 “I get it. It was a lot,” He mumbled as he pulled out a hairbrush from his bag that laid on the ground, gently untangling your hair as he refused to meet your gaze, “But I’d never hurt you baby. You know that right? I don’t want you to ever think I’d make you do something you don’t want too. I don’t want to know what happened last night, but I’ll never treat you the way he did.” 

Your shoulders kept tensing and relaxing over and over again as Jungkook finished brushing your hair, finally glancing down at you as he sighed, tears were beginning to streak down your face as you closed your eyes, “I feel so fucking gross.” You finally relented, your hands shaking as you pressed them into your eyes, “I...I...Jungkook...I feel so disgusting.” 

And you did, you felt ruined. Like you didn’t deserve to even be in the same room as Jungkook at the moment. Why would he even want you now? After...after last night...Jungkook hushed you gently as he wrapped his arms around you tenderly pressing a kiss against your head, his heart lurching and it hurt with every beat at the tears you cried, “Shhh, it’ll be okay baby. Just tonight and we’re done. Shhh, don’t cry baby.” 

For the first time you had craved his warmth all over again, letting his arms tighten around you as he cradled you close, peppering kisses against your hair before eventually coaxing you into the nice warm tub. 

It felt normal, as if you weren’t at Seasonella or like Diego and Eva never happened. It was just you and Jungkook, his arms still loosely wrapped around you, his fingers dancing along your skin beneath the water soothingly and his lips occasionally pecking softly against the hickies. As if to make them feel better, as if to make them his even if they weren’t. 

After a hefty amount of coaxing Jungkook had finally gotten you to give in, your fists clenched as you sucked in a sharp breath, “What happens in this bathtub, stays in this bathtub by the way.” You heard him chuckle as you whined, pressing your forehead against the cold tile of the wall, “Do I need stitches? It feels like I do.”

Jungkook sighed as if him staring at your asshole with cheeks spread open was something he did everyday, “No you don’t need stitches. There’s some blood, yeah but that’s just because he didn’t properly prep you. Poor baby.” He let go of your cheeks before letting his hand gently rub against the bruised surface, “I’ll clean it up, outside of it hurting there’s nothing actually wrong. Luckily we can get you some medicine for that.” 

You winced as he spread them back open. You never in your life, thought you’d be in a bathtub with your asscheeks spread just so Jungkook could clean you up. You thought you had gotten past any sort of embarrassment you’d ever feel around Jungkook yet it seemed like he lived to prove you wrong. You sucked in another breath as you felt the soft warm bath cloth rub against the aching puckered ring. 

“There, all better.” Jungkook set the bathcloth down before tenderly grabbing your waist, guiding you to sit back down in the nice soothingly hot water as he pressed another kiss against your neck, “Can’t believe he’d actually do that to you.” He gritted his teeth as he muttered under his breath.

You shifted a little, nibbling against your lip, you knew that wasn’t his invitation to getting you to talk about it but… “It was dark….I doubt he realized it was blood…” You mumbled, you could feel his skin tense beneath you as he huffed. 

“If there was blood involved you can’t tell me you weren’t crying.” Jungkook tried to keep his voice a steady note but he could feel his anger beginning to rise, just the idea made him sick to his stomach. 

You didn’t have the heart to mention he was right, you had cried while mumbling your safeword a fair amount of times when anal got involved, maybe if you had just said something he’d....But did you even want his comfort though? No, you gritted your teeth and dealt with it because you wanted that disgusting human being away from you as soon as he blew his load. 

Jungkook pulled you out of the water, wrapping a warm fluffy towel around you as he carefully dried you off, saying no more on the subject as it was clear neither of you really wanted to talk about it. No, you just wanted to enjoy what time you could with him.

Pulling on the fresh pair of panties and Jungkook helped you tug on the comfy gym shorts before pulling the nice warm sweatshirt over your head, it smelt like him, your favorite smell. 

Sitting down in bed you patiently waited for Jungkook as he typed in the password on your laptop, intending to put something on for you both to watch as he set in on the bed, a knock on the door making you both alert.

You glanced at Jungkook in confusion as he gave you a weak smile, “I know you said you weren’t hungry but baby...you need to eat something.” You frowned a little as you tugged on a strand of hair. Opening the door he pulled out his wallet, paying for the food before closing the door behind him. Taking a seat on the bed as he opened up the takeout boxes, you wouldn’t deny the glee that entered your body at the sight of Chow Mein and Shrimp. 

One bite into your food though immediately made your stomach lurch, your hand squeezing against the wooden chopsticks as you forced yourself to swallow. Jungkook was right, you needed to eat something. It didn’t matter how tasty it was though, it made you sick to your stomach the more you ate. 

One more bite and you had to put down your chopsticks, Jungkook frowned as he noticed your hand covering your mouth, “Hey, you okay baby?” He couldn’t even finish his words before you were already scrambling off the bed at your stomach lurching and your throat constricting. You barely made it to the toilet before you were already throwing up what little you had eaten, dry heaving despite nothing coming up.

You couldn’t stand when people tried to comfort you when you were throwing up and Jungkook got a good taste of that when he attempted the first time he witnessed you hungover. Your vision was blurred with tears as you spat up the vile taste that lingered in your mouth, after a few moments Jungkook entered the bathroom as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper, tossing it carelessly in before weakly pulling the handle. 

Your body trembled as he sighed, pressing a kiss on top of your head, “You good?” He sat down as he wrapped his arms loosely around you. 

“Y-yeah, I just haven’t been able to keep anything down.” Your body trembled once more as you curled against him, letting him pick you up before delicately carrying you back to bed. 

Leaned against him you weakly curled up as you sighed, your head was beginning to throb once more and your stomach ached with a lingering aftertaste of vomit, god you felt so weak and Chow Mein was not as good as you remembered it tasting. Closing your eyes once more you relaxed on top of Jungkook’s laid out figure, his hand tenderly stroking your back as you nudged into his neck. You’d be happy when all of this was over.

Note: I got way too impatient and just decided to post this chapter a few hours early, not that y’all are complaining 😂 Let me know what you guys think about everything going on! It’s a lot to take in! 🖤

(Taglist: Due to a bug on my blog nobody will receive notifications from my taglist so I’ve decided to skip it this update, should things return to normal on my blog the taglist will resume!)

[bangtanreadingcorner]

three words, eight letters (i love you) • kim namjoon

plot – it was never supposed to go this far, but then it happened. you both said i love you.

words – 3.3K

It started out casual.

You and Namjoon met at a party years ago, and the attraction was immediate. The only problem was that neither of you had time for something serious - you as a world traveling model and him as a world traveling artist. So, after spending a mind-blowing night together, you two both agreed in the morning after that it was a one time thing and wouldn't happen again.

That lasted until the next time you saw each other two months later. The morning after you two agreed that you were open to sleeping together if you are near each other and both willing and it wasn't exclusive because this attraction between you was too hard to ignore.

What neither of you told each other, was that you had no intention of sleeping with someone else.

A year and many chance encounters later, you both decided to be exclusive and decided to try dating each other casually. Nothing big, like going out of your to see each other but more like finally exchanging numbers and texting, calling and Skyping each other. You still agreed only to see each other in person when you both happened to be in the same place.

(And if you both snooped around to figure out where the other was to plan a visit when the longing became to much, well, you certainly weren't telling each other.)

It was good, for three blissful years life was good, great even, until one day it all blew to hell.

It started with a good morning call from Namjoon.

You grinned, despite the early hour as you picked up the call. "Hey, handsome."

"Good morning, gorgeous. You sound sleepy." You heart thumped with the term of endearment. You could hear the smile in his voice.

"I just woke up." You admitted through a yawn. You looked at the time, and shuffled back under your covers, intent on sleeping further once your call with Namjoon was done.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He said, voice apologetic with a tinge of guilt.

"It's okay, I don't mind." You told him honestly. You'd prefer talking to him over sleeping everytime. You yawned again, rubbing at your dry eyes with your free hand, stopped when you realised your make-up artist would have a fit if you showed up with puffy eyes. "Just had a late shoot. I only got home three hours ago."

"Yikes." Namjoon said and you could picture the wince on his face, and it made a sleepy grin tug in your lips. "I'll let you get back to sleep then and call you later on."

"M'kay." You yawned, halfway asleep as the next words slipped out of your mouth. "I love you."

"Love you, too." He replied instantly and without hesitation.

The line went dead silence in the aftermath of your confession.

"I have to go." You eventually blurted, a little mortified, your face on fire and you heart beating in your ears. Suddenly you were wide awake, all sleep gone from your system.

"Yeah, me too." He said and you were glad to hear the way to cracked because it means he was affected by this too.

You never end up going back to sleep, not even able to form a reply later that night when you arrive for your shoot and the make-up artist mutters about your red eyes from lack of sleep.

The photographer tells you there's no sparkle in your eyes. You tell him if he doesn't like your work, he's welcome to request another model. He's right though, you know he is. You go through the motions but your heart isn't in it like it usually is.

It was all the way in Namjoon's hands, just like his heart is in yours, from when you exchanged it earlier that morning.

Then only question is, what are you going to do with it?

You meant the words, you love him and you know he loves you too.

The three special words you've never uttered to another soul outside your family and your few friends. Never intended too either, no matter how much you mean it. It's terrifying, to open yourself up like that, make things between you and Namjoon real on a whole other level.

You shouldn't have said it, you know you shouldn't have. After all, there is a reason you never have before.

You knew it would have hurt in the long run. It was inevitable, with how much you love him. Only now, everything is going to hurt so much more when it comes to an end.

***

Namjoon has never been one to let problems fester and lie, or ignoring a problem until it goes away. You are a personal fan of the latter. The point is, Namjoon is the type to face a problem head on, talk it out and try to solve it.

So, it came to absolutely no surprise to you when five days after the confession, a knock on your door sounded at eleven in the evening and when you opened it, it was Namjoon.

"Y/N." He greeted.

"Hi." You breathed.

He was wearing an oversized t-shirt and loose pants, nothing spectacular, but he still causes your breath to catch, your heart beat speeding up. The want you had for him, has never dimmed with time. It only grew, in fact.

And it wasn't just a physical desire, but a mental one too. You want to know him, ask him about his day, show him the new sketches you drew, listen to him ramble about the new encyclopedia about animals he finished.

You want him - heart, mind, soul and body.

But right now, you just really want to kiss him.

"I'm going to kiss you." You warned him, closing the two feet of distance between you slowly enough that he could say no if he didn't want you to kiss him.

He stood in your doorway, eyes watching you intently, unmoving but the moment you put your hands on his neck to pull him down, just a bit, and kissed him, slowly but deeply, he kissed you back, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you even closer.

He pulled away first, but didn't go far, muttering against your lips. "We need to talk."

You didn't want to talk because then everything would get worse, not better. Still, you needed too.

You stepped out of his arms, placing one more peck against his lips, wondering if it would be the last time ever. You let him in, listening as he closed the door and took off his shoes.

"Do you want something to drink?" You asked when you passed the kitchen.

"No, thank you." He denied and you walked past the kitchen, heading to your spacious living room. You took a seat on the one seater couch, he took one on the three seater, sitting closest to you.

It was quiet, for a long time, neither of you wanting to begin the conversation. Finally, Namjoon gathered the courage first. He asked an easy question, "Did you mean it?"

"Yes." You answered, because you did, and you could see a lot of tension leaving his shoulders. It made you wonder if he doubted it, if he thought that you said it because you were tired. Well, you did only say it because you were tired, but probably not for the reason he thinks, so you decided to explain. "Being sleepy lowered my defenses enough for me to tell you the truth, instead of hiding it from you."

He nodded, accepting your words. "Did you regret saying it?"

You wanted to say no, but it would be a lie.

"A little." You admitted, as honest as possible.

Namjoon took that in, swallowing thicky, nodding again, slower this time. "Why?"

"Because it made everything complicated. And I don't want complicated." You burst out, chest feeling heavy.

"I thought we weren't just sleeping together, that we're dating." Namjoon said, voice tight. There was hurt in there, it stabbed at your heart.

"We are dating." You confirm.

"Then why haven't you told anyone about us?" He asked sharply.

"I have. All of my friends know about you, and tease me mercilessly because of you. They figured out that I'm stupid in love with you, long before I climbed out of my pit of denial." You told him, because if your relationship was going to shit, you might as well tell him everything.

"Have you told your parents?" Namjoon asked, suddenly and it makes you a little defensive.

"Have you?" You retort.

"Yes." He answered, and it catches you completely off guard.

It took you awhile to regain your bearings, because you didn't think Namjoon was serious enough about your relationship that he has told his parents about it. It made you feel happy and guilty, all at once.

You didn't know what to say to him, so you said nothing, sitting in silence again.

"I meant it, too, you know." Namjoon broke the silence again, voice soft as he looked at you so gently that your heart twisted. "I love you."

You inhaled sharply. It was one thing to hear it over the phone, but another thing entirely to hear it from his lips in person. There was only one you that felt right for you to say to him.

"I love you, too." Too much, you thought.

An expression of wonder and awe crossed his face as he looked at you. It disappeared a moment later when he frowned over at you.

"Then what's the problem?" Namjoon asked, a little desperation in his voice.

"I don't want what you want." You said simply.

"I want you." He said immediately, so sure that you know he believes it right now, but right now isn't where this ends. In his mind, this ends with the two of you married, living in a house with a yard, a few kids and maybe a cat and a dog.

It doesn't for you.

Here it comes, you think to yourself, the whole reason you knew your relationship would have never lasted. Not in the long haul. You've thought about it long and hard, over and over, because you want Namjoon in your life for a longtime, but you've never found an ideal scenario where both of you get what you want.

You sighed, deep and sad, shaking your head slightly. "No, I'm not talking about now. I'm talking about the future. You want to get married and have kids. And I-" You inhaled, your eyes burning and voice going softer, wondering if anything would soften the blow you were about to give him. Nothing helped when you finally admitted to yourself your relationship was never going to last. "I don't want that."

A crumpled sort of expression crossed his face, eyes pained when he looks into yours. "Why?"

You shrugged, eyes blurring, memories flashing across your mind. Horrible, terrible memories. You suppress them as fast as they surface. "I just don't."

More silence.

"So what do we do now?" Namjoon finally asked.

"I don't know." You said, feeling your heart cracking a little. You knew it wasn't Namjoon's fault though. He would protect your heart from anything and everything in this world.

Unfortunately he can't protect you from yourself.

***

When Namjoon went home that night, it was with a heavy, heavy heart. The rest of his band noticed the moment he stepped through the door, but no one asked him because if their leader didn't want to talk, you couldn't make him.

Well, one person could.

All eyes turned to Yoongi when Namjoon went to his room after giving them a soft greeting.

"What?" The oldest rapper asks them.

"H-he doesn't look too good." Hoseok said worriedly and the other's voice their agreement. Namjoon has been a little off for a few days now, but not once was he as subdued as he was just now.

"Yeah, he went to see Y/N-noona, right?" Jeongguk asked.

All of then knows about Namjoon's long term girlfriend. It was the oddest relationship ever, to them at least, but the two them make it work and she makes their leader incredibly happy, so they have never shown anything but support.

"Maybe they had a fight." Taehyung suggested hesitantly, because they've never had a fight, as far as he knows. It's why they all feel a little lost right now.

"Whatever it is, it's big. He looked really sad and he's never looked like that when he comes back from seeing her." Jimin said, worrying his bottom lip.

"Go talk to him." Seokjin said to Yoongi, nodding in the direction of Namjoon's room.

Yoongi didn't need to be told twice.

Yoongi entered the room as he knocked. Namjoon was sitting on the floor, against his bed, legs pulled up, forearms resting on his thighs, head in his hands. Yoongi sat down next to him. He gently nudged his arm, "Talk to me, Namjoon-ah."

Then Yoongi waited for Namjoon to gather his thoughts, knowing the younger would talk when he's ready.

When Namjoon finally spoke, his voice was teary and soft, a little bit broken, too, "I've always believed in love and being loved. I believe in it because I can feel it and I experienced it, but with her, it's different."

"Good different, right?" Yoongi ventured hesitantly.

"Yeah, but now. . ." Namjoon's breath hitched, and he took a second to pull himself together. "Now, I'm scared"

Yoongi was very lost. He doesn't know what happened for Namjoon to feel like this or where it comes from. He'll be here, though. For whatever Namjoon needs from him. "Why?"

Namjoon swallowed, "Because I've never felt like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like I can't live without her." Namjoon whispered, sounding like he was going to cry any moment.

"And?" Yoongi said, still confused. That was supposed to be a good thing. Finding someone you love so much that you can't live without them. Right?

"And I'm scared that she doesn't love me the same." Namjoon said, voice still a whisper.

This made Yoongi frown because he and the rest of the guy's have met her a few times and each time, they all saw the complete adoration and utter devotion in her eyes when she looks at Namjoon. "I'm sure that's not true."

Namjoon sighed, knowing he was being a little unfair but his heart was hurting something terrible. "Okay, maybe you're right but, she- tonight she told me that she doesn't want to get married or have kids and that's all I want. And I know that doesn't mean that she doesn't love me but it has a great potential of breaking us apart."

Yoongi was quiet for a long while, processing all that Namjoon has told him. "Have you talked to her about this, Namjoon-ah?"

Namjoon snorted, voice a bit bitter when he spoke. "She just dumped an 'I love you but I don't want a future with you' on me and I sort of just walked away, so no, not really."

"Maybe you should." Yoongi suggested.

"Hyung, she told me that she loves me and then two seconds later she told me that she doesn't want to marry me. Like, ever." Namjoon said again, strong voice growing defeated as he spoke each word.

"Damn, that's harsh." Yoongi sighed, bit down on his bottom lip.

"At least she was being honest with me." Namjoon sighed, heart heavy. "I don't know what to do. She doesn't either." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, tugging at the strands.

"You're gonna have to decide, Namjoon-ah." Yoongi said after a long silence. "Hold on, or let go."

***

You remember walking Namjoon to the door, making sure to lock it and starting to walk to your bedroom but only reaching the hallway before breaking down. Sobs ripped through your chest, your knees giving in and you sank to the floor.

It hurt, everything hurt.

And you had no one to blame but yourself.

You laid down on the floor, curling into a fetal position, crying until eventually you were exhausted enough that you passed out.

It took two weeks before you gathered enough courage to text Namjoon if you could see each other. He told you that he was in Japan right now and you asked him what city and hotel before booking a flight and a room for yourself. It wasn't for you to use, just a way for you to get into the hotel without any unnecessary questions.

When you knocked on his hotel room, your heart unsteady, your hand shaking, something inside of you knew that this is it.

This is the end.

Namjoon opened the door, and something in his gaze told you that he knew it too. Maybe that's why he didn't call either, these last two weeks.

Your eyes blurred as you walked through the door, fisting your hands to hide how badly they were shaking. You didn't want to sit, too restless. You looked at Namjoon, he looked at you.

"This will never work, not if we don't want the same things. You know that." You told him, voice breaking already. And it was just the start of the conversation.

"I could live without getting married and having kids if I could have you." Namjoon tried to stop what was happening.

You let out a wet chuckle, somehow loving him more for trying. You shook your head, letting out a resigned sigh. "You'll resent me."

"I'd never." Namjoon swore and you could tell he means it.

"Maybe not right now," You acknowledged. "But in ten years? When you see all your friends getting married and having kids?"

"I love you." He said, words a fierce promise, almost an oath.

You gave him a sad smile, "I know, and I don't ever want to change that love into resentment."

"You can't know that." He said, not wanting to let go.

"Yes, I can." You said, a tear finally breaking past its barricade and rolling down your cheek.

Namjoon stepped close and wiped it off, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, the corner of your mouth and finally to your lips. You could feel his body shaking against yours as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and it made more tears fall down. You fisted his shirt in your hands, holding tight, not wanting to let go either.

You did, eventually.

"Do me a favour?" You asked in a hoarse whisper when you pulled away, your breaths tangling, foreheads resting together.

"Anything." He agreed immediately.

"Don't forget me. Even if-" You cut yourself off and started again because you aren't delusional and you know how easy it was to fall for him. "Even when you fall in love again. Keep a little place for me in your heart and think of me once in a while." You requested. It was selfish, you knew it like you knew your name, but you will never forget him or stop loving him and if he remembers you once in a while, it would make you feel a little better.

(Not that you deserve it, but you've already admitted to being selfish.)

"As if I could ever forget you." Namjoon promised, squeezing you tighter, leaving out the part where he doesn't think he'll ever fall in love with someone else ever again. You had his heart since the moment he laid eyes on you from across the room of that party four years ago.

You finally pulled out of his embrace, but took hold of his hands. "I love you. I always will."

"Me too." He said, tear escaping from his eyes. You wiped it away with one hand, cupping his cheek.

You pulled him close, kissed him one last time - long, deep and filled with all the love you felt for him.

Then you let go of him, and did the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life.

You walked away.

the end.

[mybiasisexo]

What Happens in the Dark

Genre: Angst | Vampire!au

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Length: 4.6k

Warning: unfinished | 1st person (final product won't be I swear) 

Summary: You were just trying to survive, but that get’s difficult after running into the wrong guys on your way home from work. Luckily, your knight in shinning armor came to rescue you, but as the saying goes ‘never trust a man in leather pants and a particularly pointy-toothed smirk’. Wait, that’s not the lyrics to Poison??? Hmm....

Author’s Note: Do any of yall remember back in October of ‘19 (yike) when I said I was going to write a vampire!bbh fic and never did?? Cause I do. But, wait, what is this??? A chaptered vampire!bbh fic??? Yes, you heard me right. I decided to turn it into a series (?) and hopefully will get my head out of my ass long enough to give it the attention it needs so I can post it during the dark holiday. For now, here’s what I have written so far, enjoy!!! (And yes, that’s the title, bb we going ✈️ kokokrazy, mmkay???)

MASTERLIST

(couldn't find the credit for the gif, if anyone knows please lmk, thanks!!)

I take a deep breath and hold it for a brief moment, deluding myself into believing that the lack of oxygen to my brain will bring me courage as I stare through the glass of the front door of my job at the book store. In the distance, the sun glows red as it dips into the horizon, dragging the light with it. It will be dark soon.

I let out the breath slowly through my mouth.

I don’t mind closing, I live close enough to my job that I can walk the few blocks to my apartment. The only time it is a problem is on the weekends. I work downtown, right next to a few night clubs, and walking past those on a Saturday—which is today—makes me anxious. It’s bad enough I am a foreigner, so I grab people’s attention easily, but add alcohol to the mix… the lack of inhibitions frightens me.

But it is time to go.

I reluctantly open the door and enter the chaos that is the city. Cars zoom past and people head to their respective destinations without a care in the world. I lock the building behind me and clutch my messenger bag closer to my stomach, playing with the frays of the strap distractedly as I make the journey to the safety of my home.

It is about a fifteen-minute walk, and any other day I wouldn’t blink twice about the trip, but as the sun continues to disappear, the city begins to spark with it’s night life.

Soon, the nightclub I have to pass appears. I hold my breath as I speed past, keeping my face forward to keep attention off of myself, but that isn’t the worst part of my journey.

I turn into the alley next to the club, my pace nearly a sprint as I try to get through the shortcut as quickly as possible, but my feet stutter to a shuffle when I notice a dark figure ahead of me.

It is around 10pm, and as much as I worry about it, I don’t expect the club to be that busy—being how early it is. I’ve made this late night trek a handful of times, I was always left anxious, but unscathed.

Something isn’t right this time.

I slow my walking, but continue nonetheless, I have to get home.

As I close in, apprehension thick in my throat, the shadow separates to reveal two bodies, long lean torsos and head’s pressed close together, deep voices quietly speaking.

My footsteps echoe in the quiet night air and they finally notice me. Stopping abruptly, and in eerie synchronization, they turn their heads from the huddle they are in to face me. They’re tall, much taller than I originally thought, although it is difficult to see with the dim lighting. They stand on the opposite side of a light post. They are dressed well, which I expect if they are party goers. But, it is obvious that the dark jeans, silky button downs, and gold rings and chains wrapped around their necks cost a pretty penny. Their dark hair is styled to perfection, the separate styles fitting their face shapes.

Why are two men that are definitely out to be seen huddled in a dark alley?

“Uh….” I grow nervous as the silence stretches. Their piercing eyes leave me frozen in place and I am overwhelmed with the feeling something is askew or that coming down this particular alley was a mistake. I quickly rack my brain for something to say so that I can be on my way, but am left blank.

I gulp despite my dry throat and open my mouth to say…anything, really, but then the two share a look before hovering over me, pressing me against the cool red brick of the outside of the club.

“What did you hear?” One of them, who has wide eyes and short black hair that is gelled back to reveal the manly features of his face, snarls.

“No—nothing!” I am quick to assure.

The other, who’s hair is longer and framing his face, tilts his head. “Her heart is racing. Are you nervous, Kitten?”

I am. There is something about their energy that fills me with dread, makes me want to scurry away without a further glance back and go home immediately.

“Come on,” the former, who’s voice I feel in the pit of my gut with how deep it is, coaxes alluringly. My eyelids flutter and my balance is off, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. “Tell us what you heard and I promise, we won’t hurt you.”

“I already told you,” I push, finding words difficult to punctuate. It is as though I am fighting a deep sleep, eyes practically closed as I put all of my weight against the wall to hold myself up at this point. “I didn’t…hear…anything.”

One of them snarls—my eyes are sealed shut, so I am not sure which it was—and a shockingly cold hand grips my chin. I gasp, eyes springing open from the shock of pain as his dull nails dug into my skin.

“We didn’t want to do this,” the first talker, who is the one currently holding me, growls, not seeming particularly remorseful in the slightest. His huge eyes are blown out and I am captured by the frightening depths of his pupils. They are bottomless and it feels like I am on the edge about to slip into a never-ending fall.

“Chanyeol, stop.” A new third party urges monotonously. I didn’t hear him enter, but I am kind of distracted at the moment, trying not to think about the fact I might be murdered in an alley.

The Chanyeol fellow smirks crookedly, eyes never leaving mine as he speaks. It’s unnerving. The man doesn’t even blink as he holds my gaze. “She overheard everything.”

“No, she didn’t. You’re just hungry.”

The guy beside Chanyeol sighs as if bored, folding his arms across his chest and flicking some of the bang away from his eyes. “And so what if we are?”

The third man barks a laugh. “Well, you’re wanted inside, Sehun. Both of you. You can conspire in there.”

“We’re almost done here,” Chanyeol replies, distractedly. His grip on me has loosened some, but not enough for me to try and break out and make a run for it. Instead of his nails digging into me, he is now caressing the corner of my lip with his thumb. “We’ll meet you inside.”

I have a sinking feeling I’m not going to see the inside of that club anytime soon.

The newcomer joins our little party, finally coming into my eye line. He is about a head and a half shorter than the twin towers before me, but holds just as much, if not more, authority in his broad shoulders. He’s dressed similarly to the other two, but his eyes are an approachable chocolate brown, instead of the inhuman glittery black I’ve been trapped by.

“I bet you have places to be.” He addresses me, voice soothing and calm.

I nod frantically, wanting to be out of this situation.

“Let’s go.”

He reaches out to me, probably for me to hold on to, but Sehun swipes his hand away before he can fully stretch it out to me. “She’s ours.”

The shorter guy’s jaw jumps irritably. He definitely isn’t happy about being touched. “She is not.”

With that, he lurches forward, getting into a fight with Sehun. It happens so quickly, I nearly get whiplash from the drastic change of the man. Their moves are fast, I can’t keep up with what is going on, it is as if they are a blur.

Chanyeol uses the distraction to tilt my head back, making me stare at the indigo sky, twinkling lights beckoning me to join them.

“I’ll be quick,” he assures, voice raspy with want and low from focus. He closes in, lips a whisper against my sweaty neck and I wonder if he is going to kiss me. Wonder what torture I am going to endure.

I never find out.

He curses as he is yanked away and I shift my head back down to see what is happening, but can’t comprehend anything. Shadows moving against darkness and animalistic growls and snarls, things that didn’t belong in this setting.

A flash of white is in front of me and I scream. It can’t be helped. My heart races, adrenaline kicking in as the whole situation finally dawns on me.

“You’re okay.” Someone bends down to crouch in front of me—I guess I slid down to the ground at some point—and brings their face closer, into the spotlight of the full moon high above us, revealing his dainty features.

It is the third man that had stepped in.

“You’re safe now,” he assures.

“Those… those men.” My voice is shaking and I have to pause to swallow and steady myself. In fact, my whole body is shivering and it isn’t from the cold.

“They’re gone.” His voice is grounding, his words relieving. I let out a breath and press my lips together, feeling a tad nauseous. I check the narrow alley to confirm that they have indeed vanished into the night.

“You saved me.” I realize, taking him in with wide eyes.

The right side of his mouth lifts and he tilts his head to the side. “Would you like to go home?”

“Please,” I nearly beg, wanting that most of all. I feel exposed for some reason, feel as though I am still in danger as long as I am outside. What if those strange men decide to come back? I shiver at the thought.

“Cold?” He questions. His almond shaped eyes take in my curled body, his eyebrows furrowing in a pout. “Do you have a coat?”

“I didn’t need one,” I say with a small shrug. “I was supposed to be home by now.”

His expression is fixed on disapproval. “I left mine inside. I’ll run in and get it real quick and then walk you home.”

He goes to stand and I panic, my arms shoot out to latch onto his arm, trapping him in an awkward squat. “Don’t leave me out here!”

“Alright.” He pats one of my hands that dig into the thin material of his shirt, most likely leaving crescent marks into his flesh, although he doesn’t seem to be in any discomfort or pain. “We can go in together. Does that work for you?”

“Are they in there?” I ask in a whisper.

He shakes his head. “Even if they are, they won’t do anything as long as I’m with you. I’m sure of it.”

I take in his angelic face. He really is beautiful in a sweet boyish kind of way and I wonder briefly how old he is. It is almost comical, because he’s definitely going for the whole ‘bad boy’ look, what with his leather black pants, rose red button down, and smokey eye. Despite that, I truly feel safe with him there, feel that he will be my white knight and get me home unharmed.

“Okay. I’ll go with you then, Sir.”

“’Sir’?” Now he smiles, full pink lips stretch into a shape of a box revealing the loveliest set of teeth I have ever seen. A soft breeze hits at that moment, tousling the already messy, slightly curled, dark brown hair around his head and, despite myself, my breath catches. He chuckles lowly, the sound causing saliva to flood my mouth. “My name is Baekhyun. What’s yours?”

I waste no time telling him, needing him to know who I am.

He repeats it, making sure he gets it right and I want to curse my hormones for being so affected when my life was on the line only a few minutes ago.

“Well,” he takes one of my hands that still holds onto him into one of his, causing me to shiver from the crisp velvety texture of his skin on mine. “Let’s get you home.”

We slip into the club without any trouble, the security doesn’t even card me. It is as if, just being in Baekhyun’s presence allows me an in. I gaze at him in awe as we maneuver through the slightly crowded entrance towards coat check, but he doesn’t notice—either that, or he is pretending not to. He leans against the square glassless window, broad back exposed to the rest of the club, waiting calmly for his jacket. I lean against the wall, taking in everything I can through the haze and saturated lights, making sure I am clear from the other men I had the displeasure of meeting.

“Ready?” Baekhyun asks, drawing me out of my search and I find my body untensing with his close presence. I bring my attention up to him, his head is cocked slightly, an eyebrow raised in a question. I nod in affirmation and take the lead, with my back to him, I feel the pressure of a sturdy jean coat around my shoulders. Glancing down, I take in the rough black material and smile to myself as I slip my arms through the sleeves, peeking behind me once quickly to see him studying me like a hawk, eyes sharp and a pleased grin on his lips, so small I can barely make it out, and I wonder if he’s even aware of the action. When I face in front of myself again to watch where I am going (and to hide my reddening cheeks from him) I feel a private grin so happen to pull at my features and I wrap the massive jacket closer to myself, inhaling what must be Baekhyun’s scent.

It’s an indescribable smell. It’s luxurious and soft, yet also grungy, like the scent of a new car mixed with a bouquet of Jasmine and gasoline.

It’s intoxicating.

We finally make it out of the stuffy building and I don’t hesitate to turn left, leading us down the familiar path to my place. Once there is room, Baekhyun lazily falls in line beside me, matching my pace so closely, his arm brushes against mine every other step. We get to the alley immediately, since it’s beside the building we were just in, and my footing falters, causing me to trip.

Arms are around me in an instant, not allowing me to move forward, let alone to the ground and the momentum drags me to a hard chest. I huff, the air is knocked out of my lungs and everything stops for a few seconds.

Finally, I remember how to breathe and lift my head to see Baekhyun’s mere inches above mine, eyes wide from surprise and slight fear.

“Are you alright?” He breathes, startled.

The urge to laugh at his expression is strong, but I swallow it once I remember where I am. Clearing my throat soberly, I realize I am practically splayed over him. I tap the shoulder my hand is resting on awkwardly and he finally realizes the situation as well. I feel one of the arms he has around my waist tighten briefly, pulling me even closer, but just as quickly, he is pulling back apologetically.

“I’m fine,” I finally am able to muster. I laugh drily, rubbing my face. “Still not over the memories….”

Baekhyun bit his lip worryingly. “They really frightened you, huh?”

I let out another breathless laugh. “I’ve honestly never been more terrified in my life.”

My voice shakes and all I can think of is the Chanyeol fellow’s depthless eyes. “Something about them was just so…inhuman….”

“Those guys,” Baekhyun’s voice cuts through my horror flashbacks, closer than I remember, startling me. He tries to steady me with slender fingers on my bent elbow, but keeps it there even after I’m still. “They were just hungry.”

“Hungry?” I question. He is now using the hand on my arm to lead me through the dark trail.

“Yeah, they…. They get a bit cranky when they haven’t fed in a while.”

I scoff. “’Fed’? What is this? A Snicker’s ad?”

He chuckles at that, but you press on. “You sound like you’re on pretty friendly terms with those guys.”

He winces at that. We’ve cleared the alley at this point, so he drops his hand, losing contact with me, much to my disappointment. I’m back to leading, so I continue down the familiar streetlamp lit sidewalks.

“I mean….” He scratches the back of his head. “We’re… familiar. I wouldn’t go as far as calling them friends, by any means.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, genuinely curious as to his connection with those psychopaths.

He purses his lips as he stares ahead unseeingly, thinking about the right way to explain himself. “What I mean is… we share the same circle. Some of the guys… they’re rowdier than the rest. They have a few loose screws, I’ll be the first to tell you, but they’re a part of the group.”

I lift an eyebrow at that. “So…. You all just let them run around and act crazy without any repercussions?”

“That’s…not what I said,” he’s quick to defend, lifting a finger in a scolding way. “I kicked their asses for you did I not?”

“You did that for me?” I ask, not able to resist the urge to bat my eyelashes up at him. I’m not going to lie to myself, I like the idea of him fighting for me.

“I did. Because I knew they were up to no good. You’re welcome, by the way.”

I roll my eyes, but bump my shoulder with his in thanks.

“But, even though I think I already know the answer, I have to ask.” He’s grown nervous. “Did…did you hear anything they were talking about?”

I shake my head and shrug. “Not a word. I could hear voices, but they were talking too quietly for me to understand any of it.”

He lets out a breath he must’ve been holding in relief.

“What? Was it that bad?”

He smiles, his beautiful teeth on display. “No! No, no.”

“Are you sure?” I press, teasingly.

He throws me a look that causes me to laugh.

“Enough about them,” he dismisses and I laugh harder. He goes ahead of me, spinning around so that he’s walking backwards, giving me his undivided attention. “I want to know more about you.”

“Like what?” I ask, instantly flustered. Under the moon, the smooth bit of skin of his neck and chest shine pale, the contrast with his dark eyes and long lashes something to behold. Does he know how incredibly attractive he is? Well, if his fashion and confidence is any indicator, he surely did, and used it to his benefit.

“Like why you were in the alley in the first place? I’ve never seen you at the club before, and trust me, I would remember.”

The comment flusters me more and it takes me a moment to remember how to speak. “I… I work nearby. The alley is my shortcut home.”

“I’m pretty familiar with the area.” He hums. “Where do you work?”

“At the used book store down the road.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I should be telling this man such personal information. Yeah, he may be hot, but he’s still a stranger, whether he saved me or not, I didn’t know him enough to trust him with the information. Yet, what was done was done.

“Ooooh, so you’re a nerd?” He teases and I roll my eyes.

“I guess you could say that, Baekhyun.”

“I think it’s cute! I was never much of a reader….”

“Well, if you need any recommendations, I’m your girl.”

He grins and I think he may have liked that statement a little too much.

“I’ll have to visit you soon then, to get those recommendations.” His voice has lowered, deepened, coming from within his chest and my mouth utterly dries.

“M—maybe you should,” I stutter and then stop abruptly as I finally take in our surroundings. “Shit.”

“What?” He’s shocked again and I guess it’s because I swore. Maybe he finds it unbecoming of me.

“I…. We passed my place.”

His lips form into a thin line as he presses them tightly together—holding in a laugh, no doubt. I ignore him as I swiftly double back the half block to my apartment. “This is me.”

He takes in the brightly dimmed complex. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”

I nod. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me tonight, but I think I can take it from here.”

“Ah….” He slides his hands in his pockets and finally meets my gaze, disappointment visible on his face. “Well then, I guess my work here is done.”

“I guess so.”

“It was nice meeting you,” he says my name and shallowly dips his head, although we both seem rather hesitant to move.

“Nice meeting you, too, Baekhyun. Thank you again, for saving me.”

“Anytime.” He grins boyishly and I can’t help but stare at his mouth, at his perfect teeth.

An awkward silence follows and needing to break it, but also not necessarily wanting to, I began making my way towards the door to my building. “Good night.”

“Goodnight.” His farewell is a mere breath, he watches me, eerily still as I slowly retreat, walking backwards as he had earlier. My back roughly hits the face of the door and he chuckles at my silly antics, shaking his head.

I embarrassingly try to save my ass, but I’m just speaking gibberish, barely making sense as I succumb to my mortification and slid through the mint green door, into the familiar lightly dimmed foyer, leaving Baekhyun on the sidewalk.

I get into my apartment, my roommate/best friend already retired to bed. I stand in front of her closed bedroom door, wondering if I should wake her because I just need to tell someone about what happened to me, but thought better of it, showered and got ready for bed.

Once in the protection of my blankets, the nights events replay in my mind. I find myself tossing and turning as those men keep swirling around my head, threatening me over and over again as I wonder what they thought I overhead was and what Chanyeol had planned to do to me if Baekhyun hadn’t intervened.

Baekhyun….

Despite myself, I find solace in his presence. I have never felt so instantly attracted to someone before and I regret not getting his number or asking him to come in, but I’m just not that kind of girl. Even though he is nothing but nice, there is a chance he could’ve taken my invitation the wrong way.

Or, maybe we would’ve just learned more about each other and started a blossoming friendship.

Well, no use dwelling on the past. I sink deeper into my blankets and finally fall asleep with the reassuring thought that if it is meant to be, then it will be. Plus, I know at least one place I can find him if I really want to.

I sleep rather well that night.

~*~

The next week flies by uneventfully. I’m busy enough that the thought of Baekhyun doesn’t come to mind until I find myself face to face with him inside my store.

He’s gazing down at me, eyes wide and alight with humor. Actually, the humor coats his face, lifting the corners of his red lips and wrinkling his nose.

Under the cool yellow of the lights ahead, he appears warmer, but still paler than one should be in the summer. Again he’s draped in tight black skinny jeans that wrap around his delicious thighs, rips at the knees and sporadically on said thighs. Tucked into the belt is an expensive looking silky button up shirt with random patterns of blacks, maroons, and golds. The top two buttons unfastened to give a glimpse of his firm chest—just enough to leave you wanting more. Between the V of the opening sat a ruby, hung from a bronze chain. It appears to be the only piece of jewelry he has on. His hair is parted on the side, thrown messily aside, exposing his round eyebrows and blemish-less forehead.

He looks wildly handsome.

Handsome enough to garner the attention of the few bit of customers wandering the store.

I blink up at him. He seems so out of place here, amongst the old tender pages of discarded books. He belongs within the walls of clubs, with beautiful women draped all over him, wine in hand, the world at his feet.

Godly.

That is the vibe he gives off. As if he were of a different species.

“Are you that shocked to see me?” He finally utters, head tilting to the side. “You haven’t said a word and have been staring for the past minute.”

“It hasn’t been a minute,” I finally mumble, taking my eyes off his glorious face and down to the counter that only holds my hands.

He chuckles lowly. “Well, it diffenitly was longer than deemed friendly.”

“What are you doing here?” I say. “You don’t have any books.”

“It’s Friday.”

He shrugs at my confused expression. “I know you walk home and decided that I could protect you from all the scary men out there during the busy night. I wasn’t sure if you closed tonight, but decided to check since I was in the neighborhood.”

I have to swallow all the fluttery gushing things that form in my mind at his words. He’s worried about my safety? Concerned enough to check on me and make sure I am protected? His words definitely have my heart fluttering.

“That’s… very nice of you,” I’m able to get out eventually, bringing out a large pleased smile from him. “I actually do close today, so thank you.”

“When are you off?” He asks.

I check the time. “Ten. We still have about two hours left.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, answering my unasked question. “I faintly recall you informing me of some recommendations. It looks like I have the time to get those.”

I take his outfit in. “But you’re dressed for an event. I don’t want to take that from you.”

“These?” He motions at his body before scoffing. “I always dress like this. No special occasion, other than walking you home, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeat, again trying not to get too giddy over the idea he wants to impress me. “Well, my favorite book that’s in right now is a classic, Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice.”

“Ah….” He get’s a far away look for a moment. “I’m quite familiar with that story.”

“Oh, you are?” I am both disappointed and intrigued. “Didn’t take you much for a reader.”

That brings him back to Earth and he glares at me. “I’ll have you know that I haven’t, in fact, read the book, although I still do take offense with your idea of my intelligence. Are your books sorted alphabetically by name or author?”

“Author.” I inform. “But also by genre. Have fun.”

He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just be over here if you need anything.” With that he turns on the heels of his fancy dress shoes, clacking down the hardwood flooring as if it was a runway in Milan and I watch his shoulder blades through the loose silky shirt, swallowing the saliva that has built in my mouth.

I catch the eye of a few girls hidden around aisles, catch both glares and curiosity and sink a bit lower into the counter.

The next two hours are both the slowest yet the quickest two hours of my life. I can feel baekhyun’s gaze on me heavily the majority of the shift. Especially when I am out on the floor helping a customer or restocking. It’s fun. Baekhyun sits at one of the side tables that has a decent view of the counter and some aisles and whenever I lift my head and accidentally get drawn to his dark and playful eyes, peeking over whatever book he has open, I feel myself get shy and have to quickly glance away, face red and hot. 

Finally when I am officially ready to go, I head over to where he is lounging, one of his ankles rests lazily against his thigh as he scans the pages.

I readjust the strap of my purse as I wait for him to acknowledge me, cause I know he knows I’m hovering, but he ignores me, too entranced in the story.

Finally I clear my throat. “I’m done—“

The bastard shushes me.

My mouth drops as his eyebrows knit. “This is a good part.”

“That’s a picture book!” I scoff. 

That draws him out of his act and he grins up at me before making a show of slowly closing the book and sighing heavy as he stands up and leans in close. “Shall we?”

I blink a few times, catching my bearings. He/s going to step ahead of me but pauses pointing at my chest. “Is that my jacket?”

If I wasn’t red before....

Yes I have been wearing Baekhyuns jacket everyday since that fateful night. It still smells strongly of him and is the only proof I have that that night actually happened.

[itsclydebitches]

Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.

[ickle-ronniekins]

forgiveness

request from @evadne-poventis: I was thinking my character Eva has known the Weasleys for years and she eventually got engaged to Fred, then the war happened, he passed and she moves in with George for support and they fall in love

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.9k (YIKES)

warning(s): mentions of death, anxiety, mental illness, nightmares, implied sexual content so ~proceed with caution~ i s’pose

A/N: i am just.. so sorry

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @perksofbeingawf @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @how-do-life-does @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @snakesonaplane-7 | message me if you’d like to be added!

“We’ll get through this,” Fred said. He was standing across from you, outside of the Burrow, in the chilly, windy atmosphere, the sky turning a darker grey above you both. “We’ll get through this, and then we’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

You snorted at his silliness. Happily ever after. Who says things like that?

“Freddie,” you said, sniffling a little bit, trying your best to not think of the unknown.. the impending war just moments away, “What if—”

“No,” Fred silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, his hands cupping your face, your tears surely falling onto his fingers, “Don’t. Everything will be alright. You’re strong. We’ll be alright.”

You believed him. You believed him with every ounce of your entire being.

“Okay,” you replied. You peered at him with solemn eyes.

“Besides,” he started, losing the very serious tone to his voice, “if something happens, who’s going to dance with you at our wedding?” He began to dance very obnoxiously, making you laugh through your crying. You couldn’t help it. Fred was always making you laugh. He spun you around, lifted you off of the ground, and then placed you gently on your feet. But he was nervous, too. Very scared. You could see it in his eyes and in the way his voice was caught in his throat when he said, “When this is all over, you’ll be my mine forever—and the rest will be history.”

“Y/N?”

A soft voice wafted into your bedroom, taking you by surprise, and bringing you back to reality. It was George. His eyes looked red and tired. Like he’d been crying.

The apartment you shared was grey and colorless. It desperately needed to be dusted, but you both couldn’t bring yourselves to do so.

It had been six months since the war.

Fred hadn’t survived. One of many.

Your ‘happily ever after’, was it shattered? Were you to be considered a widow? You didn’t know—you weren’t technically married to him when he died. You adjusted yourself on the bench near your window and George came over to you and sat himself down next to you.

“You okay?”

“Just thinking.”

George nodded and offered a small smile. He didn’t need to say anything else. You both just knew. “Hungry?” He stood up and stuck out his hand and helped you gently to your feet.

You let out a soft hum and the two of you made your way into the kitchen.

After the war, after Fred had been killed, you asked George to move into the apartment that you and Fred had lived in together right after your engagement. When he saw how distraught you were, the emptiness and loneliness in your eyes, he immediately packed up his things and took to the empty room across from yours.

You’d fallen into a comfortable living arrangement. You’d spent your days at work, and George did his best to make his way back into the shop with Ron by his side. But it wasn’t the same. It was drastically different than how you imagined life after the war.

George found himself growing very comfortable beside you. It was nice to have someone else in the house—another body, another presence. It helped to not feel so desperately alone in what seemed like the worst few months of your entire life.

But you still desperately missed Fred. It seemed as though he came to visit nearly every night. You felt him beside you—when you slept, you could almost feel his arms around you, his smirk against your neck, hands tightening around your waist.

But each and every time you woke up, the space in the bed next to you was empty. You re-lived it every single day. You constantly grabbed at the sheets, desperate to feel his body. George re-lived it everyday, too..

You both missed Fred more than you could express with any amount of words or tears.

“C’mon then—we’re going to be late for class,”

“I don’t really care about class, to be honest with you,” he pulled on your hand and gently pressed you against the wall in the emptying corridor.

“McGonagall’s going to have your head.”

“Then let her,” Fred said breathlessly, brushing his thumb swiftly against your cheek, “I just need a bloody moment alone with you.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours, and you thought that maybe you could skip Transfiguration, just this one time— “It’s a shame we never get to be alone.”

“Mm,” he replied, barely breaking from you, “tell m’ about it,”

He moved down to your neck. Breathlessly, you told him, “Reckon you’ll just have to find a way to sneak into the girls dormitory tonight, then.”

He pulled back, eyeing you curiously. “You? Breaking the rules?” Such a tease.

“Oh shut up,” you replied, slapping him playfully. “You going to do it, or not?”

He laughed before kissing you again, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, my love.”

One day George took you into the shop. It was only his second time back since his twin’s untimely demise.

“Does it look absolutely dreadful in here?” he asked you, laughing softly as he turned on the light.

“Not at all,” you replied and squeezed his hand. “Still just as bright and inviting as the day you opened.”

He offered you a small smile, grateful for your kind words. “D’you ever think I’ll be able to do it again? You know...run this place? Without him?”

His voice caught in his throat. It seemed as though tears were welling up in his eyes. “Yes,” you told him, confident as you’d ever been. “I do. And I think Fred would want you too, don’t you reckon?”

George laughed again, leaning against the counter. The shop, so very large and inviting, seemed so small now in its emptiness. “Can’t you hear him? Scolding me.”

“Yeah, I can,” you agreed. Was it okay to smile yet? Seemed as though George felt the same way, because he let himself grin from ear to ear, and immediately stopped when he felt a guilty pang in his heart. You felt a tug on your heartstrings. He looked so broken.

George was your best friend in the world. That’s how it had always been. He’d always been your closest confidant, the person you went to for everything. He was the first person you spilled your guts to when your feelings for Fred had changed, the first person you ran to when Fred told you he felt the same way. You didn’t tell anyone else about your engagement until you told George first—that’s how Fred wanted it. And now that Freddie was gone, it seemed to have only brought you and George closer. Was that a bad thing?

You both felt guilty about it, but, at least you had one another.

One night, you dreamt of Fred. It was one of many dreams you’d had since he died, but the most vivid. He was sitting across the Divination classroom from you, gazing at you as if he were in some sort of trance, sending winks across when Professor Trelawney wasn’t looking. Then it flashed to a scene outside in the corridors, when he’d kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction. Freddie, come back! Where was he going?

A crack of thunder woke you with a start. You felt your fingertips brushing your cheek, where Fred had just kissed you. For a moment you thought it was very real, only to stare down at the space next to you in bed.

It wasn’t the first moment of panic you’d had since the war.

You began to cry uncontrollably, gasping desperately for air, your face blotchy and red and swollen from the tears. The rain was coming down harder, now. George nearly scared the living daylights out of you when he opened your door, looking panicked as well.

“What’s wrong—are you alright?”

But you didn’t need to tell him. He knew you’d dreamt of Fred. “Lumos.” He placed his wand on your bedside table and pulled you into his arms as he sat down next to you, your head resting delicately against his chest as you continued to cry. Your body shook in his arms. His presence was comforting, though. He kept gently sweeping his hands through your hair, telling you softly every few moments that everything would be alright, squeezing his arms tighter around you. He wanted you to feel safe. That’s all he’d ever wanted. He wanted to take the pain away, and it broke his heart every single day that he couldn’t. He just wanted Fred to be here.

He pulled you to your feet and cupped your face in his hands before pulling you into him and pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. As your crying slowed, your hands tightened around his waist. At least he was here. At least you hadn’t lost him too. You choked back a sob and he asked you delicately, “D’you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You shook your head.

“D’you want a bit of tea?”

You shook your head again. And then, to his surprise, “Just...stay?”

He felt nerves like he’d never felt in his life, but he didn’t let on. He didn’t want you to see, because you didn’t know. Nobody did.

Nobody knew that George had been madly in love with you since before you and Fred had gotten together.

Not even Fred knew. And being the gentleman that he is, George never said a word to his twin, or to anyone, when you two began dating. And when you’d decided to move in together, he helped you unpack things in your new home with his brother. And when you and Fred ran to him to tell him you were engaged, he swallowed his pride and held you both in his arms, ready to celebrate.

And when Fred died, George promised himself he’d do everything in his power to keep his brother’s fiancé happy and safe.

So, if you wanted him to stay now, he shouldn’t feel guilty about that, right?

He swallowed over a lump in his throat when you peered up at him, eyes solemn and bloodshot and needy. Why were things so much easier to spill in the middle of the night? There was something about the darkness, about the stars twinkling in the sky, that made him feel so vulnerable.

He ran his hands from your neck, across your shoulder blades, down your arms and around your hips, squeezing tightly. Was this a mistake? You were closer to one another than you’d ever been.

You had this overwhelming urge to just.. inch forward.

He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your lips and when you pulled away, you kept your eyes closed for a brief moment before opening them again. He waited with baited breath for your next move, the very quick rise and fall of his chest visible to you.

It was easy to become vulnerable in the middle of the night.

You grabbed the collar of his pyjamas, pulled him closer to you and kissed him sweetly. It started relatively slow, easy.. innocent. But it quickly turned hungry and dizzy and dangerous. He was on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hands underneath your shirt. He was desperate to feel your soft skin beneath his fingertips. The rain continued on, drowning out the rest of the world around you, but you could still hear soft moans escape his lips. It was comforting, in a strange way, to be in a world of your own..

Because while the rest of the world was rejoicing at the ending of the war, you and George were just doing your best to find something that felt normal. Okay. Real. So was it so terrible that in the midst of all of this, you’d found one another? Feeling his body pressed hard against you, in this way.. it felt strangely familiar. Like home.

Your eyes fluttered open to the light sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop a little while later. Inches from you, George’s eyes were opening too and he reached out to run his fingers through your hair. He leaned forward and kissed you gently.

You were both quiet, drifting in and out of sleep, lazily pulling your sheets across your bare bodies. You were busy running your fingers gently over his muscles when he awoke and smiled softly at you.

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, and then you noticed it.

Your engagement ring. You hadn’t had the courage to take it off since..

You stopped short, and George noticed. Panicking, you backed away from him, tightening the covers around your chest and slamming your hand across your mouth to keep from screaming. Tears escaped your eyes with no effort.

He shot up immediately, pulling himself closer to you on the bed. “It’s—it’s alright—”

You bit back a sob, shaking your head violently, pulling your robe around you as quickly as you possibly could. George did the same. He stood up, feeling incredibly guilty, and walked around the bed and stood in front of you, looking as sad as he did on the day his twin was taken from him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

You shook your head at him and finally found your voice—though, admittedly, rather shaky due to the tears. “No, no it’s—this—” you pointed back and forth at one another, “We—we can’t, George.”

“I know. We can just.. we can pretend like it never happened. I’ll just—I’ll go back to the Burrow.”

It felt as though your heart was breaking all over again. You couldn’t lose George, too. Panic was rising in your chest. “No, no! Please don’t go. We—we can work through this, okay? We’re just—sad. That’s all it was.”

You immediately regretted these words. George felt as though he was reliving every painful moment when he was reminded that you were not his. When after a Quidditch cup victory, Fred scooped you up into his arms and kissed you fiercely and George just had to pretend it didn’t hurt. When he’d painfully join you in the common room and you two snuggled close together on the couch. When you said to George, over and over and over again, how much you loved Fred when he’d finally asked you to marry him.

“Right,” he begrudgingly agreed, “we’re just.. sad.”

There was a heavy, painful silence between you both before George squeezed your hand and headed back to his room, alone, feeling more empty than he ever had been. He fell backwards onto his bed, and then pulled out family photographs from his bedside table. He cried nearly the entire night looking through them—guilt and sadness and pain taking him over. He was sure his twin would hate him now. He didn’t sleep. Your bed was cold without him. You didn’t sleep, either.

Things seemed to fall back to normal after that. Well—as normal as things could be, you supposed. The two of you did not discuss that night. It truly was like it never happened. But every so often, you found yourself bringing your fingers to your lips, remembering how it felt to be close to George in that way.

And George always remembered the feeling of your body pressed to his.

He was very apprehensive, but he stayed in the apartment. He didn’t move back home. He didn’t want to leave you. He needed to keep the promise he made—to make you feel safe and happy. So he stayed, and went back to pretending, went back to silently hurting. He went back to making his number one priority, you. Giving you a normal life, no matter what.

He watched you one evening, hovering over the soup on the stove, breathing in the steam—surely thinking about things, and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and kiss you sweetly in the sunlight flooding the kitchen. But he couldn’t, and he didn’t.

Another three months had passed. You hadn’t once spoken about that evening, but you thought about it every single day. So did George. He tried very hard to suppress his feelings, he’d been approached by many at the shop, but he’d turned down each and every single one of them. He just couldn’t let you go. And your growing feelings for him were scaring you. You couldn’t stop them, no matter what you did. Was it wrong? What would people think—what would his family think? You had many restless nights, arguing with yourself to stay in bed, to not go into George’s room and slide in next to him—and just a few feet away, in a bed meant for two, George was arguing with himself about the exact same things.

You felt guilty, yes, you but even more so, you felt so incredibly alone—because now it didn’t seem like just Fred was gone.

It felt like George was gone, too.

He was busy closing up the shop one evening when you approached him, careful not to scare him in the quiet. You tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around slowly, eyes tired and.. broken. “Hey,” he said, offering a small smile, “ready for dinner?”

“Not very hungry,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning a bit. “I—I just—”

George’s eyes grew with concern, and his heartbeat increased a considerable amount. Not a word, not a glance, nothing was exchanged about those moments since they happened—were you really about to bring them up?

“You and your brother are very different, you know.”

Surprised, he took this in. He smiled. “Yeah? Tell me.”

“Fred was.. boisterous,” you both grinned, thinking on this. “Not that you aren’t too, he just.. was a bit more outgoing. Loud. Exuberant. You’re.. more sensitive, and delicate,”

“That doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?” he asked teasingly.

“You know what I mean,” you continued, looking down at your feet. “Fred always wore his heart on his sleeve. Everybody always knew what he was thinking. He always made it rather obvious. But you—” you reached out slowly and placed a hand to his cheek, choking back tears that were rising to the surface, “you keep it all in, George. Nobody ever knows what you’re thinking.”

He blinked and waited.

“And it drives me bloody crazy, you know?”

You both laughed at this, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too much. “I’m.. so sorry about that night.”

“Y/N, don’t—”

“No, please,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “That night, I—I think I asked for a little more than I could bargain for. You just.. looked like home to me. Felt like it. You are home. But sometimes it still feels like yesterday that he died, and I felt so bloody guilty, and I didn’t want you to think that I was with you because—”

Because he was the closest thing to Fred you could have. Because he looked exactly like him. Because it was like having Fred back in your arms.

The guilt that overtook you was almost crushing.

“I hope I’m not overstepping.”

George cleared his throat and squeezed your hand. “You’re not. I appreciate your honesty.”

You nodded slowly and opted to continue, “You’re my best friend, George. You always have been, ever since we were little. But I want you to know that—I see you for you. I’ve always looked at you and Fred as different people. You’ve never just been ‘Fred and George’ to me. He’s always been his own person, and you’ve always been yours. Just because you look alike doesn’t mean you’re exactly the same. I’ve always loved how different you are. So please know, that night, it—I wanted it. To be with you, I mean. I wanted it.. not because of all the reasons one may think, I wanted it because I’d.. fallen in love with you.” George’s insides suddenly felt warm and gooey, and his nerves were going mad. Embarrassingly, you asked, “I’m—I.. I love you. Does this make any sense at all?”

“Yes,” he replied with a catch in his throat, “It does. In our own, strange way.”

He squeezed both of your hands and pulled you closer to him, when he noticed something.

Your finger. It was bare. He glanced down at it, and then at you.

You pulled out your engagement ring from Fred, twirled it slowly in your hands, both of you peering at it with tears in your eyes before placing it gently back into your pocket.

“I miss him.” George admitted. He furrowed his brows and a few tears escaped his eyes.

You sniffled a bit and bit your lip. “Me, too,” you replied breathlessly. And then, moving closer, “D’you think he’ll ever forgive us?” Guilt was still eating you alive, but why were you depriving yourself of some type of happiness, when it was standing right in front of you?

George thought on this for a moment, clearly feeling the guilt in waves, too. But he wanted you. He had for years, and he was so close to having you in his arms—but with what price to pay?

The loss of a brother, of a friend, of his own flesh and blood.

“I think,” George began quietly, blinking to push away any tears rising to the surface, “that he’d say there’s nothing for him to forgive.” And you knew it was true. Fred was just as selfless as George was. One of the few similarities between them both that you didn’t mind noting.

You looked up at him, finally feeling somewhat of a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“Maybe this is his way of.. helping us. Bringing us together in a way we didn’t expect.”

You swallowed, “Do you still want to? Be with me, I mean.”

Laughing at his own overwhelming feelings, George resisted the urge to spill everything to you right then and there at that moment—how he’d been head over heels for you for years and never, ever once felt those feelings fluctuate. But he waited—he’d tell you one day. “Of course I do. Do you?”

“Yeah,” you told him, nodding your head in agreement, “I do.. I really do.”

He pulled you in, finally, for a searing kiss, the first time since that night all those months ago, and that feeling of familiarity and home flooded throughout his body. He gently brushed away the tears that fell from your eyes, and kissed you softly a few more times before pulling away completely. “I love you, you know.”

Forgiveness. A new beginning. It was a normal you never expected to have. Fred was still there. He always would be, in a different way. It was comforting in a way that nothing else ever would be, and you and George both knew that. He asked, watching you think, “Want to have a bit of tea?”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, as if you’d just had a million pound weight lifted off of you. And then, softer now, as he intertwined his fingers with yours and let a small laugh escape his lips, you said, “Tea sounds lovely.”

Somewhere in the beyond, in a space filled with white, Fred Weasley was watching down on his brother and on the one who was supposed to be his.

But things changed, he supposed. He shrugged at the thought, and laughed.

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. “They’ve found happiness, haven’t they?”

He turned towards Sirius, who grinned at him.

Fred smiled softly. “There’s nothing more I wanted for them.” He felt an overwhelming, overbearing, astounding amount of happiness, warmth, and peace overtake him. There was nothing more he needed or wanted. Thinking on her and his brother, he replied, “Our story was meant to only last a short while.. theirs is meant to last a lifetime.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated 🥰

[writefightandflightclub]

Nightmares and daydreams

Summary: you have a nightmare centred on Poe meeting a bitter end, and so you have to see for yourself that he’s alright. Major angst, eventual fluff.

Author’s note: not super happy with how this turned out, but it’s been sat in my drafts unfinished for so long that I just need it gone. Plus, I cried a few times writing it (at the same bit each time) and I can’t take it anymore. Yikes :P

Warnings: nightmares, sweats, fear, reference of character death / war (not too graphic), crying, arguing / fighting, angst. Gendered terms WRT to reader e.g. “girl”, sexual themes but no explicit smut.

GIF by @hupperts​ (I use this GIF so much, oops.)

Word count: 2.6k

You are barrelling down the hallway in a cold sweat, tears coursing down your face. You know it doesn’t make sense -it’s not logical- but your nightmare had seemed too real. You had to get to him. You had to see for yourself that Poe was ok. You needed to shake that image of him; skin cold and bloodied, eyes vacant -as glassy and unlit as empty cockpits. You needed him in front of you, living and breathing; and so, you woke and you ran.

This was the second time you had run to him today.

It had been a typical dogfight. A typical close-call. Poe had pulled some reckless stunt and his X-Wing had taken a hit. Smoke trailing behind him and flames licking the cockpit, his stuttering engine had barely carried the battered craft home. You had landed bumpily behind him as you watched his ship thump and skitter across the runway, jumping out and tearing over towards him at full pelt as you watched him clamber out of the cockpit, swaying slightly and patting down his lightly smoking flight suit. You had been inexplicably angry with him, trembling with white hot rage as you tore into him for his actions. You had pulled your helmet off and smashed it on to the duracrete floor, had screamed at him and he had screamed back, spitting vitriol at one another until you were practically chest-to-chest in the airfield.

The ground troops had to wrangle you apart, siphoning Poe off towards the med bay -despite his very vocal protestations- and dragging you towards the command room. Still bubbling with a boiling rage in the pit of your belly, your incessant accusations of Poe’s folly hissed from your lips like irrepressible steam. The General ordered you to take a walk and cool off, and so you had looked at her as if betrayed and stormed-out of the command room, leaving a fraught scene in your wake.

You had walked into the forest surrounding base, not knowing where to, until night descended and turned the air biting cold. Until the heat has dissipated from you, figuratively and literally. Until you just felt numb. By this time, the exhaustion was hitting you, and all you wanted was to fold yourself into darkness, perhaps before any regret had a chance to take hold of you. You’d retired sullenly to your quarters, stripping off everything except your underwear and tossing it to a heap on the floor, then you had climbed under the covers, still covered in smoke and dirt and blood and not caring.

You were exhausted, so sleep came to you immediately, but it was encumbered by the residual adrenaline and stress wracking your body. The events of the day twisted and flailed in your mind like wisps of smoke which became whips, cracking at you with violent and jarring intensity. Flashbacks of actual terrors mingled with imagined terrors came as an onslaught until you were trapped in a vivid vortex of despair, the fear you held deep in your bones right at the centre, seeding the tangled vision.

Poe. Poe dead. Poe dead and gone.

You were jolted awake by your own cries and thrashing, your heart pounding and skin slick with sweat, your jagged breaths heaving in the pitch-dark. Alone in the night, you desperately tried to sift through the events of the day to understand what was real. You were sure that you had screamed at him on the runway- that he’d made it home. Hadn’t he? Even so, the nightmare had plucked at a deep-seated fear. The fear that you carried religiously with you into every mission. As sure as you would zip-up your flight suit and harness, load your munitions, and put on your helmet, your fear that Poe wouldn’t make it this time was bundled into the cockpit with you, crammed into the spare spaces. The fear always settled around you, lightly at first like wisps of smoke, clinging to your hair and skin. At moments where he came too close to harm, those wisps would become whips again, and the only way to stave off the inevitable pain was to become fierce, like a lion. To become angry.

You routinely masked your feelings with anger, but the truth is, you are terrified. Terrified you’ll lose him. Now, when you are too exhausted to muster any further defences, the whips are cutting you deep. The wounds they’re inflicting might not be physical, but the pain you are feeling is wholly real.

That was how you ended up at his door in the night, banging your closed fist against it persistently.  You didn’t care that you were half-naked and dishevelled, the thought having barely entered your head. You simply need to see him.

Poe opens the door wearily, still in his flight suit despite the late hour. He is still sweaty, still covered in blood and dirt, his hair a knot of confused curls and thick stubble sprouting over his jaw; but even this weak show of energy seems positively vital, radiant in comparison to the macabre vision in your nightmare. He registers it is you standing there, and in all the terrible situations Poe has seen you face, you’d swear he can’t have seen you this distraught before. His eyes instantly flash with concern.

“What is it, what’s happened?” Poe asks, his voice creaking under the strain like he can’t possibly take anything else horrible today. Even so, he’s looking at you like he’d run out and fight the whole galaxy for you if you could just tell him what hurt you like this. But him being in front of you is all you needed. You simply dive forward and cling to him in relief. Like you should have done when he touched down. Like you should have done in every moment you possibly could have before now.

He yields to you slowly, as if he is starved of touch, perhaps as if your affection is a shock to him after all of the times you’ve been too harsh. After all of the times you’ve stubbornly, selfishly tried to push him away. Slowly, as if you may be a cruel trick, a vision or a wisp of smoke yourself, Poe brings one arm around your waist, one hand up to wrap securely at the nape of your neck. He must find you slick with sweat, your bare flesh cloying and trembling beneath his palms, but he doesn’t recoil. He simply holds you as deliver stifled sobs of relief into his shoulder.

After a few moments like this, upon realising there is no external danger -the threat is evidently an inner turmoil- Poe shuffles you delicately into his room so the door can close behind you. “You’re ok. You’re safe.” he soothes, as your hands ball into his chest. “Do you want to tell me what’s up?” He coaxes, without pressuring you, bringing his hands to your shoulders to gently part you from him, to make you look him in his eyes. You find them still full of concern as well as weariness.

The softness of him, given without question, is almost too much for your vulnerable heart to bear and so you bite back cruelly. “You’re a stupid, preposterous man.”

Poe’s jaw tightens, and you half expect him to come at you, but instead, he lets your words bounce off him. Instead, the palm of his calloused hand comes up to your face, rough pad of his thumb gently swiping the tears off you. “I know that, but what’s new?” he teases, with a whispered voice and soft smile, though his eyes remain turbulent with worry. His other arm comes back to your waist, his broad hand warm and reassuring at your back.

You’re not equipped to counter such disarming tenderness. All you know how to do anymore is to deflect it. “I hate you sometimes.” you insist stubbornly.

This time Poe purses his lips, his eyes hardening slightly. But you’re looking hungrily between his eyes and mouth, your pupils blown out, your hands now fisting at his lapels, your breath seething in and out of you.

You’re almost chest-to-chest, as you were earlier that day, except this time, his hand is on your bare skin, his fingers drawing circles on your back, his dark eyes intent on you, infused with heat but not with anger. He continues to caress your face with his palm, and to both your surprise your mouth moves to him, your soft lips brushing over his fingers, a needy moan billowing over them. 

His own breathing becoming uneven, he cocks his head inquiringly at you. “And the rest of the time?”

The rest of the time? When you weren’t telling yourself you hated him?

Thinking about that invites buried, denied feelings to the surface. Your palms paw at his chest. An urge talking hold of you which is so strong, so irrevocable, that you feel almost powerless against it. Your hands slip down his torso in something like defeat, tugging at the flight suit at his hips, pulling him on to you. Both his hands move to your back now, his fingers tracing his touch on you like a spark running along a fuse line.

“Poe.”, you breathe. Still resisting, pawing, whimpering.

“What do you need? Tell me. Say it and it’s done.” his gruff, throaty request is like the striking of a match.

With it, you do tell him. Tears still drying on your cheeks, your lips work all of the words into him that you can’t find, the feelings that you have buried and can’t yet name. Your mouth presses to his in a crush of lips as if you are trying to pin your slippery heart safely between you. As if you will die if you ever lose this contact. Poe responds immediately, urgently; without pause, as if he’s always been ready for this. As if he’s always been expecting it, and everything else is simply an interruption - a break from the inevitability of kissing you.

He tastes like oak and spice and caramel, his tongue against yours sending a trail of fierce heat down into the pit of your stomach as if you’ve just taken an intoxicating swig of him into your mouth; a warming sensation like the burn of whisky, your body thrumming with this buzz. And it’s still not enough of him. You want to be drunk on him. He moans into your mouth. His tongue is no longer biting and bickering, but warm and supple and in agreement with yours.

It’s the kind of kiss that is both desperately sad and desperately joyous because you waited so long for it.

Poe’s thigh thrusts in between your own, his muscled leg pressing up against your core as you feel his desire growing against your hip. His hands slip up into your hair, his touch growing frenzied, more desperate, and you tip your head back to give his lips access to the column of your neck, his stubble grazing and tongue soothing the tendinous flesh there as you moan into the air for him.

Your hands can’t decide where they want to be, and you want to touch all of him at once, his body both soft and strong under your touch. You just know you need his skin on you, and so you clutch desperately at his flight suit, up against the logistics of getting him naked with all manner of belts and holsters impeding you, your haze of desire not helping you accomplish your task. 

Poe senses your urgency and groans into the junction of your neck, hating himself for the interruption he knows he has to deliver. “Wait.” he breathes, before tearing himself reluctantly away from you and stepping back a fraction. “Wait. This is happening really fast... Is this ok?”

“We have to, Poe, we have to. We can’t wait.” you plead, and something in your voice seems to have the opposite effect to what you’d hoped for.

“Baby, there’s no rush.” Poe slows, the concern returning to his eyes again, a result of the emotion and insistence in your tone.

“No! There’s not enough time!” you blurt out, voice desperate and broken and high-pitched. And there it is. The thing you have to acknowledge. That fear you hold deep in your bones is resurgent all over again, and it instantly causes tears to spring forth from you. “There’s not enough time, Poe.” You repeat weakly and in defeat, voice filled with so much pain that Poe steps imperceptibly back from you, as if he is being hurt vicariously. “I dreamed you were gone. I dreamed that you were dead.” you admit, and Poe’s eyes swim instantly with sadness. Almost with guilt. He sags as if he’s been punched in the gut.

“That’s what you were upset about?” he questions in the smallest of voices. “That’s why you’re here?”

Realising that the mood has gone and feeling sombre, you fold at the knees and sink down, perching on the end of Poe’s bed. Solemnly, he sits down next to you. He looks positively broken.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Poe. It could happen. On any single mission. It could be either one of us.” You look at him in apology, and although you can see your words are hurting him you don’t seem to have the strength left to contain your confession any longer. “I already wasted so much time trying to tell myself I hated you that... I’m scared. I’m so scared that I’m gonna run out of time to love you. Poe.”

His face twists in distress, and he’s staring wordlessly at a very particular spot on the floor, seemingly unable to lift his eyes to yours. He wants to reassure you. You can see the effort shudder through his body. You see him try and flail for words of comfort, each attempt dying in his throat. Instead, his brows knit together and his face contorts. Your heart breaks seeing the pain there, and he shakes his head as if in apology as tears begin to overflow onto his cheeks too. He knows your fear is valid and there’s little he can do to allay it. You know he feels this because when he finally looks back up at you, you recognise the very same fear in his eyes too.

When he finally speaks, his voice cracks with emotion. “I don’t want to run out of time to love you either.“ Agreement is seemingly all he can offer you. You sit there together in momentary silence, reaching out to grasp one another’s hands tightly in the space between you on the bed, becoming joined by the hands and joined by your shared fear.

Suddenly, everything seems so bleak, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake. If anger would be easier. If love is too much pain. But then, you think back to your dream, to those lifeless eyes of his, vacant and glassy and unlit as cockpits. The pain in him now stems from a living, breathing love. At least that’s something. And suddenly, it seems like everything. Poe holding you? Alive? Kissing you?

Poe is surpised when a small smile inches its way over your face. “It’s ok, Poe. It’s ok. I’m wrong. I’m tired, and I’m scared, and I’’m wrong.”

He wipes his tears away with the heel of his hand. He shakes his head in mild confusion.

When you speak again, your voice is stronger, more certain. “We haven’t wasted any time. We found each other, didn’t we? We made it this far? Maybe we don’t know if everything will be ok. How much time we have left. But we have this second and the next and then the next. And when I’m sitting here with you, this second, you’re more than enough for me.” You reach over to twine your fingers in his curls, gazing at him fondly. “How lucky am I that you came back today, and that I get to hold you? That doesn’t sound like a waste to me. If I get to hold you one more time or 1000 or a million, I want to make each one count.”

He leans into your touch, and you realise how wrecked he is. How wrecked you are. He nods, softly, another single tear coursing down his cheek. You kiss it away from him. Finally, a small smile echoes your own.

“We’ve got time?” he asks you, voice tinged barely with hope. 

“We’ve got time. We don’t have to rush. I’ll be here in the morning, and if you want me to, I’m gonna kiss every inch of you and make love to you. And I’m gonna take my sweet kriffing time with it, ok?”

He brightens ever so slightly at that. “If I want you to? Are you kidding me?”

You smile a little more broadly at him. “Can I kiss you?”

He nods, and you bend to press a feather light, chaste kiss to his mouth. He closes his eyes against it and tugs in a deep, slow breath.

“What now?” he asks tiredly. 

“I’m tired.” you state, and Poe nods in agreement. He mumbles something to you and momentarily retreats to the refresher, returning with a damp cloth.

“What are you doing?” you ask in confusion, and he stands before you, cupping your chin in his hand.

“Baby, you’re beautiful, but you’re a mess. Just let me take care of you a minute, ok?” Ever so gently, he runs the cloth over your face, your neck, your arms, your torso. He washes away the dirt and blood and sweat, and with each gentle, intimate caress he seems to wash away some of the weight of the day along with it.

Once this sweet man is done, you slowly return the favour, helping him unbuckle himself and slip out of his flight gear- a much easier prospect when your fingers are calm, your hands steady. He steps out of his clothes and even with how tired you are you can’t help but appreciate his body, your eyes running over his form before you stand to ease the cloth over his face and his tired muscles too. “How do you look good even when you look like shit, Dameron?”

He throws a small, lopsided grin at you before chucking the cloth in the direction of the refresher, the mess would be tomorrow’s problem.

“Come on. We’re gonna sleep.” he pats your thigh affectionately and encourages you into his bed, laying down beside you in turn and curling his warm, sturdy body around you. “Only sweet dreams from here on in, ok? I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you. Still, right now, you just want to hold him fully, want to encase him and comfort him too. “Hmm, this is all wrong, Poe.”

“Huh?” he questions, already groggy and tumbling towards sleep.

“Don’t you wanna be little spoon?”

“Yeah.”, he admits, swivelling around sleepily under the sheets so you can slot yourself around him. 

He hums in happy satisfaction and you can’t help but snicker softly into the back of his neck.”You make happy beeps too?” you ask, referencing the sweet sounds Poe’s astromech comes out with. 

“What can I say? I like it when you don’t hate me. Took you long enough to figure it out though.”, he chides, good-naturedly. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“None o’ my business.”

You smile into his hair as you pull him into you even more tightly.

You had known love could hurt, but you’d never known it could hurt so much that you would fail to recognise it as love. However, as you hold him like this, you feel something happy begin to blunt the edges of your pain. You had mistaken love for a cruel beast to keep at bay; to counter by becoming equally ferocious. But now that you had confronted your nightmare, you saw that this love could only stop hurting you if you welcomed it. This love only bared its fangs when you tried to fight it.

“Poe,” you say softly, before he drifts off. “I’m so sorry. For being so angry.”

“Me too, sweetie.”

Your heart swells and you finally close your eyes again. As you hear Poe’s breathing become softer and sleep-ridden you whisper softly into his curls as you tug him close.

“I’ve got you too, sweet boy. Sweet dreams from here on out.”

THE END

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[wonderlustlucas]

calefaction - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “You make my heart go boom boom.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 8.1k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, dry humping, a shitty handjob, oral (f receiving), referral to oral as “coochie suck,” okay it got really soft & fluffy at the end i’m sorry, comedy / crack because han jisung & ot9 are FOOLS ⇢ summary In another universe, your life does not revolve around keeping your infatuation over the boy with the pretty smile secret. In another universe, he does not know how much you like him, nor does he harbor the same feelings. But not in this universe. In this one, your heart beats fast for Hwang Hyunjin, but his beats faster.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n omg WHAT i can’t believe this is 8k ajhdjhfjd it was supposed to be like a quick 4k cuz it was Hard Hours but here we are......yikes.....not necessarily the first fic for hyunjin i wanted to post but it ended up being really cute:) i hope you enjoy! pls like & reblog if you do, i love reading tags ♥︎

There has always been something about him that caught her attention. The first time she met him it was his mouth that she found herself focusing on; in between the white and gold and blue fireworks exploding above them, she would sneak glances across their friend’s back patio to admire the way each color lit up his face. Every time he took a sip of whatever sloshed in his red plastic cup his lips would glisten before his tongue darted out to swipe away the moisture and oh God, she would kill to do that for him. As the celebration dragged on she found herself edging closer, swallowing down more liquid courage with each shot just so she could catch a better look at his teeth and his smile and the way his face lit up and nose scrunched and eyes disappeared into cute little crescents every time he laughed. She wanted to make him giggle like that. There was no other that matched his. He put all the stars and all the fireworks to shame— who was that?

The second time she was in his company, she could not help but swoon over what an absolute sweetheart he was and all she wanted to do was tuck the precious baby in her pocket and shower him with love. And yet this all came simply by joining her friends at the nearby bowling alley for a night. Unbeknownst to her, his friend group and hers were evidently meeting up and even though she ended up not playing against him, she was determined to know something about him before she left. Hwang, he set his name as— she felt awkward randomly asking him for his full name, and so she decided instead to ask him if he would come with her to buy pitchers of soda for the two groups while they finished setting up the games.

“Sure!” He smiled right away, turning away from his friends and leading the way. Immediately her heart skipped a beat and she hurriedly followed after him, staring at his red converse the whole time. “What’s your name?” He suddenly asked, taking smaller steps in order to match her pace. When she looked up at him to meet his curious gaze and tilted head she nearly stopped right then and there to scream.

Instead she swallowed the lump in her throat and answered him, then asked for his own since the opportunity had been served to her on a silver platter.

“Hyunjin,” he said, the name slipping softly past his lips and she found herself muttering it under her breath as he ordered two pitchers of soda and two pizzas at the counter. She loved it. Hyunjin. She knew his name! Comfortable silence fell over the new acquaintances and she was content leaving it that way, too fearful she would give away her nervousness and stutter out dreadful small talk. Besides, just being there next to him and admiring his pretty face when he was not looking was more than enough.

They did not speak anymore after that until he praised her later on for the strike she made and even though all she could do was thank him, she physically could not stop looking to him just to grin after watching him cheer so jubilantly for her. But now she was distracted, watching him instead of her own friends when he would go up to bowl and oh God oh God oh God he’s so cute and wow his hair looks so soft and Jesus Christ his smile is the prettiest thing in the entire world.

But her admiring did not go unreciprocated. She felt jittery all over and could not stop chewing on her lip whenever it was her turn, walking slowly to pick up her ball with the weight of his gaze from behind. Before when her fingers would slip into the ball’s holes, she would never really care about how many pins she would knock down; now, she held onto the polished marble globe for dear life and prayed each time she would not look like a fool and throw her bowl into the gutter.

Her prayers generally were answered for the three games they played and she landed herself in second place each time. But her smile was not from a job well done; rather from the cheerful grin Hyunjin would flash her no matter how many pins she knocked down when all her other friends were too busy gawking at Han Jisung and Lee Minho and the rest of his friends. She felt warm and loopy all over again, this time not from alcohol, and she really, really wanted to plant herself next to him—Hell, right on his lap— and kiss him, but knew that would be outrageously ludicrous for someone she technically just met only a few hours ago. She opted instead to cheer him on after his turns as he was doing for her, and just hearing his giggle in response was enough to sate her.

And so the night slowly drew to a close, her friends and his rendered tired and bored with nothing left to talk about for the time being. Even though her heart leapt at the possibility of Hyunjin initiating something, she reminded herself again that it was unlikely and truly was not that disappointed when all he did was wave goodbye on their way out. It’s alright, she told herself, it’s not like this is the last time you’re going to hang out. Afterall, it seemed like the two friend groups were slowly beginning to fuse.

And for the next few months, she was right. As summer quickly rounded the corner she found herself spending more time around him and learning new things about him each time. When she first heard him mention dance in a conversation with Minho at Changbin’s end-of-the-year bonfire, she couldn’t help but lean over in her seat to hear him more clearly. Great, here he was, the literal most perfect human alive, talking about his newest dance routine minutes after taking her side of the argument that summer reading wasn’t all that bad if you just gave the books a chance.

He was just about flawless in every sense of the word with his stupidly pretty plump lips and the beauty marks under his left eyelid and the right side of his jaw and neck and God, the way he talked about his dog Kkami? She was head over heels.

Nevertheless, she did not want to overstep her boundaries and opted instead to avoid getting too close to the untouchable boy, fearful that if she had one more conversation with him over how watermelon is the superior fruit that she would eventually just implode. She hoped she was not coming off cold; because, let’s be real, Hyunjin will cling like a koala if you allow him to and it was more than obvious that she was keeping a distance from him, hoping their relationship would not go beyond mutual friends. She could only hope that he would not notice through the rose-colored glasses he watched life behind.

When her phone buzzed with a text message in their group chat from Felix asking if they could go to her place for night swimming, she sat up in bed and thought for a long minute for some excuse to give to avoid having them all over. It wasn’t that she did not have the house for it, and her parents were out for the night— she simply felt obligated to clean the place up for everyone since they had never hung out at hers before. However, she felt guilty since she was the only one with a pool and eventually texted back that it was fine for them to come over.

Nonetheless, there were not enough hours in the day, it seemed, to calm her nerves of having to reveal so much of her bare body to them all when it came to wearing a bathing suit. When Minho and Hyunjin arrived first, the light of the day had just drained away, leaving the sunset’s pink and orange colors subdued in the fading light and the first chirping crickets and buzz of mosquitoes took over what the birds had retired for the night. As the host for the evening, she felt it was impolite to join the two in the pool when so many more of their friends would be arriving, so she left her t-shirt on and waited against the patio table while the two of them undressed.

She tried to keep her eyes away— really, she did, but in the close silence of the dim evening light she could not help but look upwards, her gaze instinctively travelling to Hyunjin. With his back to her, she felt guilty gawking at the broadness of his shoulders and the way the muscles of his back rippled as he took off his shirt, so she tore her stare away only seconds before him or Minho could notice how flustered she had become just by his bare back.

She refused to join the others until the entire group had arrived, even if that meant sitting and standing by herself while all her friends goofed around. It’s alright, she told herself, now I can slip in without anyone noticing. As soon as Eunsook set her things down and joined everyone else playing Sharks and Minnows, she finally turned the music blaring from the speaker up higher and shimmied out of her shirt before skipping over to the stairs and quickly submerging herself into the water despite the chill that had her teeth clattering.

“Alrighty, time to head home,” Minho teases as soon as he notices her paddling towards them; she rolls her eyes before disappearing below the surface and swimming for him. Even underwater she can still hear his yelps when her fingers come to pinch roughly at his sides. When she resurfaces, she is met with a splash to her face, which ends up hitting Jeongin next to her and in a blink of an eye an entire war is breaking out.

She is still too cold to participate and hurriedly backs away from all the splashing, opting instead to watch the chaos until her body acclimates to the freezing temperature of the water. “Are you cold?” A melodious voice whispers softly at her ear, sending a different kind of chill shooting down her spine. She turns slightly, relieved but terrified to see how close Hyunjin hovers behind her; she did not even notice him approach her. “Freezing,” she laughs quietly, hands rubbing at her arms that are rough with goosebumps.

He hums, seemingly lost in thought for a moment as he stares delicately at her before he presses himself against her back and crosses his arms above her chest, his head sitting gently in the crook of her neck. “Better?” Hyunjin purrs, so close against her and oh God, her teeth seem to clatter even more despite the way her lower stomach jumps and warmth spreads throughout her limbs.

“Yeah,” she whispers, breathless, brain still trying to register his skin against hers and therefore abandoning every other cognitive ability. Hyunjin makes a noise of content, tightening his grip on her and nestling into her neck. She can only pray that he pays no mind to the way she gulps nervously before forcing her attention back to the others still tussling in the shallower end of the water.

“___ is a pus—”

Minho starts to accuse before he is rudely interrupted by Changbin tackling him under the surface. In the meantime, Eunsook and the three other girls let out a series of panicked shrieks, scrambling to get out of the pool when Chan lets out a battle cry after giving the diving board a few experimental bounces. The same second he cannonballs off the board, Minho thrashes back up, still wrestling with Changbin. Evidently, both chaotic instances cause a surge of water her way and she scrambles backward and further against Hyunjin, accidentally rutting against him simply to dodge the spray.

So many things happen at one time she finds it a struggle to focus on each one. First, all she can register is the chlorine water meeting her eyes and stinging like a handful of needles. And then, just as Minho starts up his monologue again, her mind ultimately blocks out everything else occurring around her when a husky moan escapes Hyunjin’s lips.

“As I was saying, ___ is a pussy, she started this and all she’s doing is hiding away with lover boy,” Minho condemns as Hyunjin quickly unlocks his arms from around her in order to grab at her hips in reflex. Unable to form a coherent sentence, let alone a coherent thought, all she can do is shoot Minho the finger and give him a sarcastic glare. At her lack of a fight, Minho grumbles and turns away, chasing after Changbin who had swam to the deeper end.

The realization that she is essentially alone with Hyunjin at the other side of the pool sets over her like thick fog, and yet it seems to be that she is not the only one who is breathing heavily. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself to not only calm her beating heart but to ignore what she oh so wants to do while simultaneously gathering up the courage to do it. His slender fingers still gripping onto her hips for dear life eventually serves as a prompting enough green light and she at last makes up her mind. Just test it out again, she convinces herself with one last prayer to Heaven before lifting herself up slightly, allowing the water to help guide her movements as she rolls her body back onto him again. It elicits a carnal groan deep from his throat.

Just like that there is a fire in her veins, sparked to life by his presence and suddenly she’s not so cold anymore, everything feels ten times hotter and she silently spins around to face him, staring at him with sudden innocence. The ball is in his court.

“You’re a sly one, aren’t you?” Hyunjin teases with raised brows, large hands sliding down her waist, curving over her ass and settling on the underside of her legs to urge them around his hips. He looks unfairly gorgeous at the given moment, wisps of chestnut hair fallen over his forehead in soaked tufts and skin glowing with a sheen of water— a God, to be fair. “Not really,” she says honestly; unable to hold his hooded gaze, she instead follows after her palms as they run over the smooth skin of his arms, ghosting over his chest and making sure to brush over the beauty mark on his neck when they settle to link behind his head. Even though he trembles, she wonders whether he can feel the erratic beating of her pulse or secretly knows how much vulnerability hides beneath her façade.

“Hm,” he hums, fingers clutching tighter at her thighs, “I guess it makes sense now, though.”

“What makes sense?”

“That you have a crush on me, stupid. You avoid me like I have the plague so I thought you just didn’t like me in general or something. Turns out you like like me,” Hyunjin says, voice dripping in blatant delight and he wiggles his eyebrows at her when she finally looks back up to him, eyes widened in total embarrassment.

“I, well—”

She is just beginning to gather the brain cells necessary to explain herself when the oppressive boom of thunder cuts her off.

Caught completely off guard, a startled cry escapes her and she jumps, squeezing herself around Hyunjin and burying her face into the safety of his neck— since when was there going to be a storm? Nevertheless, her fright is totally washed away when he uses her proximity to his advantage and nips at the junction of her shoulder, red hot desire taking its place when he kisses over the mark.

“Nope, fuck, that’s it! I’m out!” Felix shouts, pushing Jeongin up the stairs with him and effectively ruining her moment of utter disbelief. “C’mon, we have to get out,” Hyunjin coos, reaching down to pry her legs off of him.

“It’s fine, honestly just let me die,” she sighs dreamily, floating on her back away from him. There is some truth in her exaggeration— her heart is already pumping at such an ungodly fast rate getting struck by lightning would practically be a blessing.

Hyunjin scoffs, grabbing her by the ankles and steering her toward the stairs. “No way Jose,” he says, flipping his hair once she stands on her own feet and sending a dozen water drops directly into her eyes, “there’s no way I’m letting you die before I get a taste of you.” And with that, he leaves her stranded on the stairs to process his words, something hot and heavy laying upon her abdomen. Taste? What does that mean? Did he mean a kiss or—

Shaking her head, she rids the tantalizing thought and slaps her cheeks to get the blood flowing again, trying to not focus on Hyunjin’s words and every moment leading up to them. As she follows after him to where the others cluster around the picnic table, she slowly discovers the error of her ways with an annoyed whine when she realizes she forgot to grab a towel for herself. She’s not about to go run inside for one downstairs when she has water dripping off her like a waterfall, but with the way distant thunder rolls across the malevolent sky she also understands that it won’t be long until her friends want to head home before the storm reaches them.

“Share with me,” she demands of Chan who stands next to her wrapped up in his own towel, her frame quivering with chills all over again. An exasperated grunt escapes him but he does not argue, lifting an arm to let her nestle beside him and share in some of his warmth. She mutters a thanks when he passes her the end of the towel and she curls it around them, making sure to soak up some of the droplets dotting her skin.

Standing in the midst of the rest of the group’s conversation, she really does make an attempt to pay attention to the chaos of their bantering, but it somehow feels like she’s stuck on the outside looking in. Even though she said goodbye to Woojin, Felix, Jeongin, Eunsook, and the other girls when they decided to head out, thinking over it a few moments later she can barely remember whether she hugged them on their way out or not. Or when Seungmin threw a Dorito at Jisung, Minho had said something that made her laugh but… what was it? Everything was going in one ear and out the other; which wasn’t a surprise, in all honesty, when the singular brain cell bouncing from each corner of her brain was focusing on Hyunjin and Hyunjin alone.

Even now, when she finds herself in a daze and mindlessly looks at him for the umpteenth time, she cannot help but notice how his jaw clenches and his eyes burn… resentfully back at her. What’s up with him? She wonders, chewing on her lip in worry that she had royally screwed up and he was regretting playing along. Just as her anxiety starts to get the best of her, he abruptly scoots his chair back from the table and stands with another hand carded through his hair.

“Where are you going?” Minho asks, forcing her back to reality and she holds her breath, afraid he’s going to say that he is heading home. Instead, he says with a goofy smirk, “I have to shit.”

When the rest of her friends break into a fit of laughter she finds herself sighing in relief, looking to him once more but then there he goes again— dark and hooded eyes glaring at her with an intensity that tightens her chest. She almost seems to wilt by the time he turns around, heart hammering in her chest because—while that was unnecessarily hot—her mind is a spinning top trying to figure out what she could have done to make him hate her all of a sudden.

“___?” Jisung interrupts her thoughts, “What about you?”

“Huh?” She blinks, having completely missed whatever conversation had been happening.

“Is lasagna just spaghetti flavored cake? Yes or no?”

For the first time in the last hour, her focus finally has to stop and think about something other than Hyunjin and she cannot help but crack a smile. “I mean, yeah. I’d say so.”

“HA! You lose,” Minho shouts, pointing at Jisung. “If ___ agrees, then, well…” Seungmin trails off, looking to her with an animated grin. Jisung only grumbles in reply, muttering something about how stupid everyone is while crossing his arms and sinking back into his seat like the child he is. “Speaking of ___,” Changbin singsongs, sharp features bright with amusement when he looks to her, “what’s up with you and Hyunjin?”

“What about me and Hyunjin?” She shoots back too quickly, transfixed instead on the coruscating reflection of the tiki torch flame on the glass table, unable to hold the weight of their stares.

“You guys weren’t very slick, y’know,” Chan comments, elbowing her in the ribs and she finally looks up to meet Changbin’s curious gaze at the table. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she admits with a shrug, abandoning Chan’s safeguard against the brewing storm winds to grab the bag of potato chips on the table, “he apparently knows I like him.”

“He what? Did you tell him? It would take a typed ten page single spaced letter for Hyunjin to ever possibly catch someone’s hints, he’s too slow,” Minho teases, grabbing her elbow to keep her from moving away so he can pick on the chips with her. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I accidentally told him one night in a drunk spur of the moment,” she lies, deciding that’s better than explaining how she experimentally grinded on him.

“Weird. Well, good luck with that. He can be a doofus,” Jisung says with a smile, reaching across the table for his crumpled shirt. “Thanks, I’ll need it. He was giving me death glares before he went inside so I have no idea what’s going on,” she grumbles, twisting to look over her shoulder out of fear he would walk out in the middle of their conversation.

“That’s weird. Did you say anything that would piss him off before you got out of the pool?” Chan asks, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Uh,” she pauses, thinking back to the whole taste thing, “nope.”

“Maybe he was just really constipated and it just so happened he was looking at you for help,” Seungmin muses with an amused grin. “Seungmin, are you telling me I made him have to poop?” She laughs, daring him to elaborate with raised brows.

“You never kn—”

Minho begins before the second cracking boom of thunder cuts him off, rendering them all struck speechless with shock. Right on cue rain begins to fall, slow to start and splattering them haphazardly.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Shit!”

“C’mon, we have to go!”

“WHY’S IT SO COLD?”

“Fuck, fuck, shit! Everything’s gonna be wet!”

They all seem to harmonize, chaos ensuing as they scramble to dress themselves while simultaneously gathering their belongings. Nevertheless, they can’t help but howl with laughter at the sudden adrenaline rush, hurrying to make it to their cars without getting too wet. “Bye!” She shouts as her five friends struggle past the locked gate to her back yard before disappearing out of view, wind beginning to pick up and carrying the small pellets of water in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next. “Shit,” she hisses, frantic as she grabs her phone and what is left on the table before hurrying up the deck and into the safety of her home.

“Well, that sucked,” she mutters once inside, locking the sliding glass door and watching the rain that now falls as if from buckets from the blackened cloud dominating the sky above. She sets everything down on the kitchen island before moving to the refrigerator, opening the doors for no particular reason until the gurgle of a toilet flushing halts her movements. She pales as the realization hits her, leaning over to look into the foyer just as Hyunjin himself exits the bathroom down the hall.

“It’s raining,” he comments, shuffling around her shocked figure and nodding to the door as thunder cracks the air. She blinks, gut sinking with anxiety for she feels as if she’s stuck in limbo— was this sexual tension or was he mad at her for something? “A little rain never hurt nobody,” she hums awkwardly, following his gaze to watch the way tree branches sway erratically in the wind like flags high on their poles and instinctively wrapping her arms around herself to rub away the goosebumps.

The silence in the room is deafening and she’s holding her breath with the fear of the unknown heavy on her chest, praying for the floor to just swallow her up or for him to make the first move at either leaving or explaining… something.

“So,” Hyunjin starts when he looks to her instead, having apparently read her mind, “did you do that to purposely make me jealous?” When she closes the refrigerator doors and turns to him her pulse positively jump starts at the way he looks at her, eyes dark with something she can’t quite pinpoint. “Huh? What are you talking about?” She sputters when he moves closer, gaze frantically searching for something to look at that isn’t the indents of his collar bones or the toned pane of his stomach or even his eyes, too scared she would implode instantly if she did so.

“Either you’re dumb or you consciously cuddled up to Chan to make me jealous,” he elaborates menacingly in a tone she is certain she has never heard him use before and she instinctively steps back the closer he gets, pressed up against the cold marble of the island and oh, so that’s why he was glaring like that. She can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes past her lips and Hyunjin looks down at her with a vexed rise of his brows. “I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m just dumb,” she admits, finally maintaining eye contact now that he is so close and draws her attention to him like a fourth Newton law of motion, “I didn’t want to be too pushy.”

Hyunjin pouts, obsidian eyes melting into something more affectionate and bottom lip jutting out sadly. “Why would that make you pushy?” He asks gently, closing what space remains between them and pinning himself against her. His skin feels warm and smooth where it presses against her own and it feels as if nothing is real, that she is only dreaming when his slender fingers cup her face, holding her by the jaw and keeping her attention glued on him. “I— I don’t know. I was kind of whiplashed after the whole pool thing and I didn’t want to be all annoying and clingy if you didn’t want me too,” she explains shakily when his thumbs comfortingly caress her cheeks, gaze languidly studying her features but zeroing in on her tongue as it darts nervously between dry lips.

“Y’know,” Hyunjin breathes against them and her heart gives a single, solid thump, “I’m trying really hard to be all pissed at you for going to Chan instead of me, but you’re not making it easy.”

She can’t help the smirk that forms on her lips at his confession, finally lifting heavy arms to sling around his neck. “Oh shush, nothing can change the fact that you’re just a big softie, Hwang Hyunjin,” she teases with newfound courage, eyes glinting with tendrils of salacity and the atmosphere has most certainly shifted, heavy with the weight of desire and the drumming of rain on the roof only adds to her longing to press closer to him in the cold darkness, to feel, to touch, to taste.

“Oh, really?” Hyunjin scoffs, dropping a hand to trail his fingers over the curve of her hip. All softness having melted from his face, he now leans closer to whisper in her ear, “Are you sure that it’s going to be big softie Hyunjin who’s gonna make you cum all over his fingers?”

Well, he’s got her there; she visibly trembles in response to the boldness of his tantalizing statement, only able to stare back at him with wide eyes when he leans back to soak up her reaction. “Cat got your tongue?” He purrs, exceedingly proud of himself for having rendered her silent with shock. Enough talking, he decides, reaching for her hand and tugging her away from the kitchen island and into the living room where she stumbles after him like a rag doll.

“Is this okay?” Hyunjin asks gently again once she is seated on his lap, straddling his thighs between her own— when did that happen? His fingers digging into the softness of her upper thighs when he grabs her hips brings her focus back to the present and suddenly all of her senses are on fire; oh, he looks absolutely glorious beneath her, cheeks flushed warm and pink, tufts of dried hair fallen over the dark pools of his eyes that seem to hold galaxies within them. “M’perfect. You’re perfect,” she sighs, euphoria having melted her brain into a pile of incoherent mush and the knot in her stomach only winches tighter when his large hands trail dangerously close to where she wants him most.

Just as she begins to gather her wits to the situation she has found herself in, there comes a brilliant flash of white from outside the windows that flickers and dies like an almighty camera flash that blankets everything at once. Not even a heartbeat later the rolling boom of thunder reverberates overheard, the untamed power effectively rattling the entire house and she subconsciously clings tighter to him until the rumble dwindles past. When she opens her eyes once more, she is marginally closer than before the very heavens had split apart and Hyunjin smiles comfortingly at her, seizing the opportunity to move his hands back to cup her face before closing the distance and planting his lips on hers.

Despite having been caught so off guard, warmth blooms in her chest and she is dizzy with joy, every cell of her being vibrating in overwhelming elation when Hyunjin’s hot mouth melds to her own, the tip of his tongue prodding at the seam of her lips when she whines quietly into the kiss. What starts off soft and slow quickly turns into something more urgent, fueled by an intense fervor growing within her and it’s his lips, she decides, biting down on the supple flesh and drawing a whimper from his mouth to be muffled into hers.

“I could say the same about you,” Hyunjin finally replies to her unintentional compliment after pulling away, licking a stripe up the side of her throat before settling underneath her jaw to suck a tender mark, “that first night we met. At the bowling alley,” he pauses his biting with a sharp intake of breath when her wandering hands graze delicately beneath his belly button, “you were so cute, I didn’t know how to act around you. You’re always cute.”

She halts her movements at his words, sitting back on her haunches as a flush creeps up her face. “So you don’t remember seeing me before that?” She grins, reaching forward to run her fingers through his bangs.

“Before that?” Hyunjin asks skeptically, brows drawn together.

“Chan’s New Year’s party,” she chuckles, bending to kiss the mole along the curve of his neck, “that was the first time I saw you,” then the one on his jaw, “kind of been head over heels for you since.” When she plants a heartfelt peck on his reddened lips, he pouts back at her and she simply cannot fight the urge to kiss him again, licking at his bottom lip. “What’s a matter?”

“I’m sorry, how could I have not noticed you?” He actually apologizes, reaching for her waist and pulling her impossibly closer, although all it essentially does is drag her sensitive center roughly over his bathing suit bottoms. He does not miss the soft gasp that escapes her, his grip instinctively clutching harder in a weak attempt to keep himself grounded. “Can I make it up to you?” He proposes before she has even replied, a suggestive tilt to his voice and all she can do is nod, putty in his hands.

“Oh, God,” this is really happening, she sighs blissfully, weightless in his arms when he lifts her from his lap to gently lay her back down against the cool leather sofa cushions. It does not take long for him to join her once more, hovering dangerously close above her and she hardly manages to swallow past the lump in her throat, praying that he cannot hear the dizzying staccato of her heart slamming against her ribcage. “You okay?” Hyunjin asks softly, balancing his weight on one arm beside her when he reaches up first to brush hair away from her face, and then to trace the swell of her bottom lip.

“Yeah,” she sums, kissing the pad of his finger, “you’re just like… insanely, strikingly handsome. You make my heart go boom boom. I still think I’m dreaming.” Nice one. Real smooth.

His boyish giggle in response is a direct attack to her heart, and yet it still is not enough to prepare her for the embarrassed flush working itself across his cheeks. Oh. He then proceeds to bury his face in her neck to hide his shattered facade, flustered more than he would have liked to admit when trying to finger the girl he’s madly in love with.

“See? You’re like… perfect. Can’t you feel my heart? Earlier I was seriously hoping we would fuck but now I don’t even want to, I could just stare at you all day,” she spews honestly—what’s the point in holding back when this was the kind of response she would get?

“Oh my God,” he whines sheepishly, kissing hotly at her shoulder, “you make my life really difficult.”

“Imagine how I feel,” she huffs, swinging an arm over him to lovingly run her fingers up and down the burning skin of his back. Warm. He made her feel warm all over.

Hyunjin truly, literally whimpers in response to her soft ministrations; however, the amatory heat burning in his abdomen clearly has not left his mind and twists the notion into something much different as he mindlessly ruts against her center, a muffled groan escaping him at the partial relief and ultimately ruining the softness of the moment. “Oh,” she gasps, lifting her hips to meet his next upstroke in time with the wind picking up beyond the safety of his embrace, howling and crying and baying like a wolf into the night.

“Shit,” he grunts in her ear, the bulge of his length beneath his swim trunks dragging deliciously at just the right spot through her own bottoms, leaving her lightheaded and longing for something more, “do you mind?” He asks, breathless.

“Of course not,” she hums, spreading her legs further to give him better access.

“Fuck, you’re the best. I won’t last long, I’ve had blue balls for like, an hour,” Hyunjin laughs lightly before continuing his ministrations, keeping himself balanced above her as he rolls his hips to meet hers. A strangled grunt deep from the back of his throat leaves his parted lips and she decides she absolutely will never hear or watch anything hotter with the way he drags his clothed length over her.

No matter how much he shudders in pleasure, he seems to struggle to meet that perfect, earth shattering angle, and so she offers a hand—literally—and reaches to palm him. “F-fuck,” he hisses, movements grown shaky and sloppy with her squeezing him so tightly through the material of his trunks. She tries her best at dragging her hand up and down his shaft with the limited space, pressing specifically at the tip in time with him thrusting into her palm. No matter how shitty it is, it seems to do the job for how far gone he is, head thrown back and body trembling as he comes inside his boxers with a sharp moan. Disgusting, and he’ll probably regret it later, but right now it’s a breath of fresh air. Plus, it’s pretty hot that his dream girl 1) just let him hump her and 2) gave him a rushed handjob through his pants that still made him cum.

After a long minute to compose himself, he presses a grateful, messy kiss to her lips that ends up being more of a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Then, like the perfect gentleman he is, Hyunjin lifts himself up to gaze at her longingly once again and asks with heavy-lidded eyes, “Let me go down on you?”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head and she thanks the heavens she is not standing or else she most certainly would have toppled to the ground under the weight of his words and the hoarseness of his voice. “Do you want to clean up first?” She asks fretfully. Truthfully, it’s more to give her another minute to mentally prepare herself.

“I’ll deal with it later,” Hyunjin grins like the little devil-angel he is before kissing her again, silencing her worries with his tongue wrapping around hers and it oh so unfairly becomes hot and messy and titillating again, driving her closer to an edge she had not seen the warning signs for. This time her fingers thread through his hair, pushing back mussed bangs to rest her forehead against his as they share a labored breath. When he begins his journey south, he trails down her throat and punctuates each suck and nip on her skin with an openmouthed kiss, ravishing all the way over the swell of her breasts and down her abdomen until it seems as if every inch of her skin is glistening with moisture and dotted with tender marks.

Hyunjin shifts his weight in order to scoot down the length of her frame, this time resting so much closer to where she so desperately needs him to be. One scorching hand drags up her thigh, carefully hooking around the elastic of her bottoms and she weakly raises her hips to help him yank them down her legs. No matter how much of a struggle it is to get them down to her knees, they manage nonetheless and she rids the flimsy garment with an anxious kick once they reach her ankles.

“Just remember,” Hyunjin rasps after hooking her legs over his shoulders, thumb ghosting over her clit and her body jumps for it, “Bang Chan didn’t make you this wet. I did. All me, right?” He’s practically growling at this point, not patient enough to wait for her answer and opting to go straight for the kill with his mouth suckling around her clit harshly. “Oh, Jesus. Fuck,” she whines, hips raising to follow the warmth of his tongue but his free hand quickly presses them back down. “Yes. You. All you,” she gasps out, hardly able to form a response at this point when all she can focus on is the way her body swells as his lips draw her forward, sucking long and hard.

“F-fuck, shit,” she whines, an intense buzz pumping hotly through her veins and fueling the fire in her gut with him practically sucking the life out of her. Somewhere in between him licking a slow strip up her slit and his fingers prodding teasingly at her entrance, all her mind can think of is the ‘fuck, go back’ meme— Hyunjin on the average day, just existing as his ethereal, exquisite, heavenly, goofy, dramatic self is already overwhelming. But thisHyunjin? And his stupid tongue and godsent lips?

It’s more than she can handle.

The infelicitous thought quickly slips her mind when Hyunjin more comfortably resituates himself in order to push two fingers past her walls at an agonizingly slow pace. With a strangled mewl, her hands instantly fly to tangle in his hair, raking through the strands for dear life when he immediately curls those long fingers of his, rubbing upward, stroking that hidden gem of a spot. “Hyunjin,” she can’t keep her voice down anymore, moaning the last bit loudly before biting her bottom lip to taper it into labored breathing.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Hyunjin compliments when he comes up for air, breaking away with a noisy pop that leaves her arms trembling violently, “also, really, really fucking hot. You’re gonna date me after this, right?” He adds as a nervous afterthought, the tempo of his fingering picking up as he rocks his hand against her, his palm grinding against that one sweet nerve until her body seizes in sweet pleasure. “I— wait, fuck, you’re asking me out?” She hisses with a furious blush and one too many emotions swelling in her chest, the jitters rising in waves when he tucks his face back between her legs and laves his tongue over her again and again.

“Oh, God,” she sighs shakily, back arching and following the motions of his tongue— the long lapping motions, the hard swallows, the tight sucking. All of it. She’s drawing closer to an edge she is not prepared for, thighs perpetually quivering and skin tingling in a frenzy of static wherever he touches, one hand gripping her hip like an anchor, the other insistently flicking her clit, his tongue stroking inside of her, warm and wet. “Come on, baby,” Hyunjin purrs against her folds, the vibration winding the coil tighter before he switches to quickly pump his fingers into her and to press his tongue roughly against her sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing her to her climax.

Ensuring she rides out the entirety of her orgasm on his tongue, Hyunjin tightly grips her thighs to keep her legs spread, lapping and sucking lewdly, shamelessly at her cunt like a man starved. Her hips buck and jolt as the sickly-sweet warmth burns and grows and grows until it is consuming her whole, ecstasy and relief flooding her from head to toe as her orgasm washes over her. She feels hollow and jittery all over by the time the frenzy of sensations fades into nothing but a tender throbbing in her core, as if all her nerves are worn and frayed at the ends and leaving her as a pile of mush.

“How ya doing?” Hyunjin peeps from between her legs after a few moments of waiting for her to come back to reality, one hand on her hipbone and the other at her inner thigh, soothingly massaging her skin to ease her back from the high. Something about the genuine concern etched on his features paired with her own arousal glistening on his chin and lips has the butterflies in her stomach roaring to life, heart doing somersaults in her chest and she smiles softly, reaching for his hand and tugging for him to come closer. “Are you sure you’re the same Hyunjin from the bowling alley?” She laughs airily against his lips, blinking up at him with wide eyes. His beauty is not an easy thing to comprehend, she reminds herself with a thumb tracing the soft curve of his jaw.

“I told you I’m not just a softie,” Hyunjin says with a dramatic huff followed by that cheeky smile of his, lowering his head to gently rub his nose against hers in an eskimo kiss and oh, he certainly has her heart now if he hadn’t before. She reaches up to actually kiss him this time, hoping to distract him from the painfully obvious blush blooming across her cheekbones, and once more the entire world is spinning when he gently cups her face and slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss.

“Just for you, though,” he randomly adds when they separate, diverting her focus away from the taste of herself on his tongue and how sinfully good of a kisser he is. “Hm?” She ponders with a tilt of her head, hand resting at the nape of his neck to twirl a finger into his hair. “I’m just a softie for you,” Hyunjin elaborates, dramatically collapsing on top of her and the weight of him pushes all the air from her lungs.

“Oh,” she heaves, freeing her arms trapped underneath him and wrapping them around his wide shoulders with a tight squeeze, “that’s good. I bet I’m softer for you, though.”

“Incorrect.”

“No, correct.”

“I just had my tongue up your coochie, can’t you just give this one to me?” Hyunjin scoffs and finally rolls off of her, reaching for the floor with an ungraceful flail of his long noodle legs before finding the hardwood and standing up. “Right. Sorry. About that,” she coughs, leaning up and ignoring the mess between her thighs in favor of glancing to his own semi-hard… problem, “do you want me to return the service?” After all, that shitty handjob was not the best depiction of talent.

“Are you offering to suck my coochie? Thanks, but I’m good,” he answers nonchalantly, nevertheless he reaches beneath the waistband of his bottoms to readjust himself right in front of her and she instinctively glances away, embarrassment creeping up her neck. Even though he just ate her out. Whatever.

“Never mind, you’re stupid,” she grumbles, stumbling to her feet once her limbs realize they have to do their job to grab her bottoms thrown haphazardly across the room. “Hey! Be nice to your boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?” She challenges, shimmying the material up her legs before standing to face him with a smirk painted on her face. “Technically I never said yes.”

Hyunjin gasps. “Damn, guess I get to tell everyone I played you, then,” he smirks right back at her like the cocky shit he is, turning away after slipping into his t-shirt to get his phone and keys from the kitchen. “No! Wait! I was just kidding,” she lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his back, “I like you. A lot, as you can tell. If you actually want to date me, well, then, you know how I feel.”

“___,” he soothes, detaching her arms in order to spin around and face her, “I’m not going to just hook up with someone who I know likes me. I’d be dumber than a doorbell, too, if I didn’t y’know… maybe have a little crush on you too. Which is why I want you to be my girl. I don’t want to do cute shit with anyone else but you. Like, pick our toe jam to compare it and stuff.”

“Wait, you have toe jam?”

“Exaggerated joke, ___.”

“Oh,” she giggles, leaning up to kiss the beauty mark on his neck again, “anyway. Dating. So, you’re my boyfriend?”

“I think it works something like that,” his full lips practically disappear when he grins toothily, large hands coming back to cup her face, “can I get a goodbye kiss?” She hums in instant agreement, meeting him halfway to press her lips against his, one, two, three gentle pecks before his tongue tantalizingly darts out to swipe against the seam of her lips and effectively painting her insides with fireworks.

“Hey,” she warns, jabbing a finger to his chest to stop him but immediately softening up at the sound of rain pounding on the roof as if demanding entrance, “I mean… you could always stay until the storm passes.”

“Are you asking because you’re worried about me driving safely or because you just want to sit around and kiss all night?”

“Hm, well, maybe a little bit of both,” she admits with a sheepish smile. He’s just too irresistible to pass up. Hyunjin beams brighter than any star in the galaxy before pulling her back into him, “Greedy. You’re lucky my heart goes boom boom for you too.”

(And Hwang Hyunjin’s heart does not lie.)

[dark-arts-and-crafts-universe]

Glass Hearts (Part 1)

Glass Hearts

Note: this story is set a few decades before the canon’s present day

In which Farina Baker, prodigal daughter of a long line of witches, unwillingly reunites with her sister and meets a mysterious man. What is her sister scheming, and what is this stranger’s deal?

Table of Contents | Next

Part 1

Word count: 1,079

Content warning: toxic family members, minor verbal abuse

Farina could tell Jen was angry when she walked back into the kitchen, though she tried to hide it. Farina took a moment to fold and plate the omelet she was working on, then asked her coworker, “What’s wrong?”

“Corner table didn’t tip.” Jen put the bills, carefully counted, one by one into the till. Farina swore when she finally quit she was going to hex that till. It was probably cursed already; once money went in, nobody but the diner’s owner ever saw it again.

She put the last garnishes on the omelet, then turned with a wide smile. “I’ll go talk to ‘em. Watch my station.”

“You don’t have to,” Jen said. She said that every time. She never meant it. None of the staff could afford a lost tip, and Farina was good at making assholes pay up. You could say...she had a gift.

Just a little magical humor there for ya.

Corner table hadn’t left just yet. He was folding up the rest of his sausages into a handkerchief. Did people still carry those around?

“You know,” Farina said as she neared the table, “it is customary to tip.”

The man looked up, blinked. “Ah, shit. I can never keep track.”

Farina hid a frown. Her magical ability to read people’s emotions was not as fine-tuned as a true empath, but it usually helped identify what buttons she could push to make a stingy tipper cough up. This man’s emotions felt--muted, in a way. Like trying to read through a pane of foggy glass. She couldn’t make out any sense of guilt; that was, unfortunately, not unusual. But the average asshole felt at least a little embarrassment over getting called out in public.

“How much is customary?” he asked, perfectly placid.

It was disconcerting, if Farina was being perfectly honest. She decided to take a risk. “Forty percent.”

She didn’t need empathy to notice the way his brows climbed at that, but there was no anger Farina could feel. He didn’t even seem to disbelieve her wild statement. “Yikes,” was all he said, reaching into just about every pocket in his outfit. “Give me a minute, then.”

Speaking of his outfit--it wasn’t so dirty as to draw attention, but the pants were worn and his shirt frayed at the seams. The beat-up backpack at his feet showed clear signs of thorough use. “How much money do you actually have?” she asked. She wasn’t going to push if he couldn’t spare the change.

The man clearly followed her train of thought, because he said, “A perfectly ordinary amount for this setting. Ah, here we go.” He put the last of the tip on the table, and finished packing up his food. “My apologies to the chef.”

“Right.”

She watched as the stranger left the diner, as if that would explain his behavior somehow. It was an irrational thought. Then again, she’d been raised in a household that trusted intuition. Farina must have gotten more of it than she’d thought, because if she hadn’t been watching she never would have spotted the moment when something in his backpack lit up in a brilliant flash of color. A blink, and it was gone, an ordinary, beat-up backpack once again. A normal person would have dismissed it as a trick of the light--a glint of sun off a metal zipper angled just right to fool the eye. But Farina Baker was the scion of a long line of witches. She cast spells through her cooking and could feel people’s hearts. She knew magic when she saw it.

That was some questions answered, at least. She walked back into the kitchen jingling Jen’s new tip, and put it out of her mind. She’d probably never see him again anyways.

-Months Later-

The smell of smoke. Again. She’d burned the hash browns. Again.

“I’m sorry,” Jen said the second she entered the kitchen. “I’ve tried everything, she keeps ordering and hasn’t touched the bill. If she ditches at this point we’re hosed.”

Farina let out a deep sigh and started scraping off the pan. “I know.”

“I told her you quit. I told her you were off shift. I told her you were dead!”

That got a snort. “Oh, don’t tell her that, she’ll think she’s won.”

“Seriously, I’m sorry,” Jen said with a guilty wince. “I don’t know her like you do, but she--”

“She’s a real bitch, yeah.” Farina set the pan down. “And she’ll stay out there until closing if we let her. Might as well see what she wants.”

Farina did not like this. She did not like this. But unfortunately, it was hard to dodge an emotionally-manipulative all-knowing seer-ess. Farina supposed it was a good thing Mercy hadn’t chosen to scry her sublet.

“Why are you here?”

Her older sister smiled thinly and took another sip of tea. “Polite as always, Farina.”

“Meddlesome as ever, Mercy. Answer the question.”

She tsk-ed. “Really, I thought you were supposed to be the, what was it? ‘People person’ of the family? I can’t imagine you get many tips that way.”

“I’m a chef, not a waitress. I earn my way with my craft.”

Mercy glanced up at the diner, running a finger along the edge of the table. “A place like this doesn’t have chefs, sweetheart. You’re a line cook at best. But we’ll leave that sort of sniping to Mother. That’s not why I’m here.”

That was...interesting. Mercy and Mother usually acted in perfect concert, at least when it came to criticizing her. “Elaborate.”   

“I just wanted to let you know to pick up that double shift on Thursday. Your boy toy will be dropping by.”

Farina blinked. “My what?”

“Your boy toy,” she repeated.

“If you’re trying to set me up with your buddy Hackerman again--”

“Oh no, Hackerman is old news. It wouldn’t have worked out between the two of you, I’m afraid.” Mercy said this as if it were a magnanimous pronouncement, and Farina was about to commit murder in the middle of her afternoon shift. “I’m talking about your new man. You know who I mean.”

She really didn’t. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m single, Mercy.”

Mercy hummed. “You can deny it. But you will pick up that double shift.” Her trimmed fingernails made their way to the bill. “Now, can someone run my card already? I’ve been waiting for hours. The service here is just dreadful, honestly.”

[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 44 _ Not the Best News

  The light flashed green, but Arthur wasn’t paying attention. The action didn’t quite ignite in his mind, though he was looking right at it. Lost in his thoughts, searching for guidance to connect the now to a future he didn’t understand. Did Lewis not trust him? He didn’t get it.

 A crackle of static burbled through the radio.

 “Lights green.”

 Arthur shivered. “Yeah. Just checking for traffic.” There was no rebuke on that, though the intersection was bare of vehicles aside from one car creeping forward. The town shut down pretty fast following six PM.

 Streetlamps flashed through the windshield at off intervals, flooding black through the van interior. The rose tinge of Lewis eyes glittered, his shape near insubstantial within the periodic dips of flare bursts. Sometimes, Arthur thought he saw the death suit and skull, despite knowing Lewis would not drop his living guise unless his focus broke. It must suck, maintaining that sort of concentration.

 “Y’know, you don’t have to look that way around me,” Arthur admitted. “I actually don’t mind Sir Bones Esquire.” Lewis generated a sound, but he couldn’t place if it was a hiss or static.

 “I prefer to look not like I crawled out of a grave,” he muttered. The face didn’t move, but the shimmering ember shifted to check Arthur. “Thanks for the offer.”

 Arthur shrugged his shoulder. “I try and keep the board clear. Whatever works for you, I’m game.” It wasn’t resentment, it was something else seeping off of Lewis.

 “You too,” Lewis uttered. He leaned back a little in the seat and crossed his arms. “You got a lot on your mind. You wanna, I dunno, talk?”

��Arthur sniffled. “Not really. It’s, well….” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe later, I gotta tell you some things. Not bad or anything, but it’s pretty heavy. I might… y’know, never mind. That pizza was heckin’ good. How many times did you burn ‘em.” The radio sputtered.

 “Five, I think….”

 “Awesome.” Arthur pulled into the carport for Kingsman Mechanics. The lights were all out, the parking lot empty; the space barren, but for the vehicles dropped. He climbed out of the driver side and shut the door. On the other side, Lewis swept through the grill of the van in a swell of light and embers.

 “Dude, c’mon,” he uttered. “Don’t risk the gas tank.”

 “It’s ethereal fire,” Lewis rasped. “Absolutely harmless.” He walked with Arthur to the front doors, the keys already twinkling.

 “Hard to tell with you.” Arthur slotted one key, then the next. Until, Lewis brought his hand close, sparking a smoldering ember at his palm. Arthur jolted. “Shit! Warning, next time.”

 “Siento.” At the entrance Lewis waited, while Arthur popped inside and gave the building a brief exploration. Within seconds, Arthur returned and beckoned.

 When exiting out the entrance corridor, Arthur flicked a switched on the panel and activated the lights throughout the main work floor. “Okay, the boxes are upstairs by the door of my work room. Stacked. I meant to grab them, it didn’t happen. You can’t miss them.” The details dropped, he skittered out of Lewis company, sprinting across the work floor.

 “Where are you going?”

 “Need parts for my arm. I was kinda in a hurry, excited I was gonna get out of here before Viv started texting me. I didn’t want her to worry.” He spun around, throwing a finger gun Lewis’ way. “I’ll be up in a sec.”

 “What else did you forget?” Lewis departed on his alternate route to the dark corridor, leading to the stairway. “Should I grab the kitchen sink, too?”

 After a beat, Arthur called back in a sharp whisper, “It couldn’t hurt.”

 The worktable was as he left it, which was what he liked. He pulled open the drawer where he kept a sturdy case for the tools he routinely transported in or out, depending on his schedule. There was a specific method for undoing the clasps without the aid of a second arm, it was a little awkward to do since it required the use of his knee. It mostly kept the case stationary while he pried up the latch, but his movement was so practiced it took a mere five seconds. In a smaller drawer beneath the table surface, he kept the soldering wands for minute detail work. If he could, he wanted to get the remedial delicate stuff. It was simple enough, but tedious—

 Crack!

 Arthur jolted and whipped around, instincts on high alert. His eyes flashed around the room, studying the vehicles left prepared for tomorrow’s shift, the rotary lifts and supply carts spaced throughout the work floor. What was that? It was loud, the clamor reverberated through the hollow garage, emphasizing isolation and a prowling threat.

 “Um… Uncle?” he called. No response. Not good. Arthur reached behind him and clenched a wrench. “Who’s there?” He didn’t risk calling the name of the one that should be, but the fact an answer was NOT forthcoming was worst of all. It was okay. It would be okay. He took a breath and crept forward, moving behind a small car and checking through the windows – searching through the tinted glass for an amateur hasting to relocate amidst his momentary ‘distraction’. The silence peeled apart his senses, he should pick up someone breathing or even their deepest thoughts. Was anything missing? He couldn’t tell, and it wouldn’t matter. Someone was here, he was certain.

 After taking a short trip around the work floor, he scurried to a far wall and set the wrench down on a table, then jammed a fist into his vest pocket. Before his fingers could grasp at his phone, the hair on his nape prickled, spurring him to whip about. With a yelp, he backpedaled from the hulking shape. His yelp was more of a ‘YEEE!’ and his retreat sent him staggering, when he brushed against the corner of the desk.

 “Who the fack?! Hey—” He tumbled to the floor, as the shape snatched at the wrench abandoned upon the table. He rolled until his arm was situated under him, and sprung onto his feet. “Who the—” His voice sputtered, the wrench gave a menacing CLANG! upon skipping across the concrete floor.

 At first, he did believe in his heart that this was Lewis. In the dark and sinister parts of his memories, Arthur believed that the spirit had crept down to invoke some cruel ploy to torment him. But as the shape swept through the dull glow of light, he could cleanly distinguish that this was a grunting, breathing, agitated man in a mask. The intruder person kept weaving in and swiping for his arm, intent on incapacitating him through crude means. A shame that Arthur was much too spry and hardwired for evasion, the vandal didn’t expect such resistance either.

 The irony of everything, that a masked person would intrude in the shop and assault him. What the hell? He got enough of this crap on rando assignments, this was break from that drama. So much for that fantasy.

 Did something crash, elsewhere? Oh boy, oh shit!

 “Man, you don’t wanna do this!” Arthur vaulted over the hood of a van and zipped around the side. The big guy was quick too, though not as agile. He huffed and puffed, pursuing like a bear on honey. “You really don’t wanna! I’m warning you! Yikes!” With a lunge he crashed to the floor - he cleared the table, but got snagged by an impact drill and its cord. “YOU! You’re getting into some bad shit!” He screamed bloody murder and scrambled to his feet. The intruder hauled up a whole muffle and swung it down – cracked the concrete and missed his foot by an inch.

 Arthur sprang one way, then the other around a small convertible. Intruder followed, swishing the muffler like a damn katana. In a risky slide, he dove by and scrambled to one of the rotary lifts with a jeep suspended. He shimmied up one tower and clambered through the vacant side door, scarcely hauling his legs out of the way before Intruder with muffler could swing and knock his knees off.

 “I’m tellin’ you! You gotta leave,” Arthur went on, speech breaking. A fleeting glance surveyed the room, but established no sign of eyes or fury. Still time before this guy got cooked. “For your own—” The muffler collided with the arch of the jeep and the jointed pipe glanced his shoulder. The world twisted as he toppled backwards, and off the hood of the jeep. It was oddly reminiscent of those dreams, the nightmares. He knew what came next.

 Unexpectantly, his body collided with a stack of empty boxes.

 The masked intruder gulped down cold air, more excited than winded through the exertion. They glanced around, where was it? In all the ruckus, their mind blanked on where they dumped it. Turning, they spied something that made them abandoned the search cold turkey. This was entirely due to the large hand snagging their shoulder, and flinging them like a doll. Heat and an overwhelming scent of char clouded their senses, dissipating only when they descended from the short flight.

 The trajectory sent them on a collision course for a flatbed cart, which they tumbled off and skidded across the floor. They didn’t stop, barely checking that their legs remained connected to their spine before retreating from the scene. Exit! Escape! Where was the way out! As they fled, they patted at their sleeve and mask, embers scored their clothing – The hell? The intruder was unable to make sense of where they went, and crashed into a work bench. With admirable grace, they recovered, a pronounced limp following; metal parts and tools clanged in a cacophony of symphony across the floor. They kept going, not chancing a look back and barely examining the area through the sparks dazzling their eyes.

 Posed from throwing whoever that was, skull and death suit, eyes blazing, and fire still crackling at his ribs. Lewis would have given chase and done some real damage; there might’ve been something like self-control, perhaps even a capture if he was feeling generous. However, he couldn’t detect Arthur, and the figure buried under boxes was unresponsive to all the horrendous business afoot. He was not playing possum; Arthur couldn’t fool him.

 “Arthur?” his tone withered, and became distorted. He glided closer to the comatose figure and towered, gazing down. With hesitance and some second thoughts, he reached down slowly—

 Right through the heart he’s shot! A full slug punched directly through his facade and tore the locket clear off his coat front. WOW. What a mistake that was. Lewis twitched, fists clenched tightly at his sides. The last time he felt a sensation like that, it was after falling a considerable amount and choking on his last breath. He could almost feel the heavy tempo of a heartbeat fade out a second time.

 HE

 DID

 NOT

 LIKE

 THAT

 Directly behind Lewis at a two-meter pace, Uncle Lance stood with a rifle, barrel smoking. It was a good and clean hit, the gray wall on the other side visible through the incision torn through. He waited, uncertain what should happen next. The thing in front of him, how could it be described? It looked vaguely man-like, it had the shape of a person. Except for the ‘head’, and the gap above the open collar where a neck should occupy.

 Lewis cocked his head and let his skull swivel, peering back. Another igniting thunderclap, and the spirit snapped around fully, cowering. Fist trembling beside his hip.

 “Yu step back from m’boy, ya reject Hall-oh-ween Deck-ARATION!” Lance gave the rifle a crank and took aim. As he watched, the vacant hole in the torso filled in with a strange, glossy light. The chunk in the shoulder sizzled, and what looked like fire crackled over the rich color of the suit. A skull and suit; a very malevolent and pissed looking skull. “YA HEAR!”

 Terrible and antagonistic ruminations boiled through Lewis’ consciousness. An endless fall, the impact – mind fractured and every piece of his body dislocated. Shadows sweeping in, swirling around that bent figure high-high above, and the jewel glittering at the center of its sneer. Wild, unruly cackles clattered across the walls of the abyss, mocking his pain. Drinking up the agony spilling across the sharpened stalagmites, as every ounce of care and thought drained away.

 He glided toward the attacker, taking another bullet seamlessly in the abdomen. Ribs next, splintering – each patch of destruction inflicted, vanished in a swell of heat conjured by his blazing soul. The pieces and sharp fragments of Lewis fitted back, reworking a bizarre pattern of that day many-many moons ago. Rising, the bitter aversion for this betrayal. Abandoned, isolation and pitiless grief that followed. The loneliness, and sense of loss saturating his very essence. Corrupting, robbing him of warmth and tenderness, replacing everything with whispers and fire. Another piercing bolt, to his lower arm – a wild shot. Panic infused.

 Someone was very deserving of all this pain. It would feel better to share it, cleave a sliver loose. Release a portion of that fury threatening to boil over like a raging, scalding tsunami. Let them feel a taste of the bitterness that plagued him.

 As the thing approached ominously – clear malevolence burned in the pits of the skulls eye sockets – Lance became steadily more alarmed. There had to be a way to stop it. Someway, he had to put an end to it. But it was apparent brute force wouldn’t do it in. He backed away, nearly colliding with a supply cart.

 “Stop!” he snarled. “You can’t do that! No! S’not possible! I won’t believe it!” The next projectile tore through the apparition’s center, but before the echo faded the gaping breach vanished. Lance buckled backwards, gun dry. “ARGH! What are yu made of!”

 The rifle swept from his grip and the spirit hosted him up by the front of his vest, yanking him clear off his feet. It glared into him with those intense, blazing embers bristling deep within the cavernous eye sockets. “The souls of the innocent….” Lewis wound back an arm, fingers twitching—

 “A bagel?”

 Lewis froze. “Artie!” He dumped Lance and whipped around, shooting to the cluster of busted boxes. Before he could lean down, he hesitated – the lights about the work station flashed. “What… happened? I, uh… you’re hurt.” Arthur was sitting up, holding his neck and quivering under the drill of pain in his head. It was vibrant, he could almost feel it in his own skull.

 “Honest, I don’t… remember. Oof.” His hand reached over and touched the empty spot of his shoulder.

 The confusion was apparent, as well. Lewis needed to wait and see what Arthur came forward with. It might confuse Arthur if he bombarded him with questions, or prompts; he didn’t get a good view of the whole scene. Aside from the flush of rage that compelled his reaction. This couldn’t be rushed, and the other needed time to adjust and come around. Especially since Arthur appeared uncertain of what happened, despite his poor negotiations.

 “Did you… try to dump me off somewhere? High?” Now, Arthur peered up at the looming shadow. He couldn’t gather much of Lewis’ features, aside from a towering silhouette and the heated fuchsia orbs peering down. It was super unnerving. “That seems like somethin’ you’d do. Fuk… m’back.”

 Lewis smashed a fist into his palm. “That person! This guy!” A puff of flame sparked at his collar, and the embers in his skull snapped into hostile pinpoints. “I don’t know what happened, but he threw something. And then, you FELL! It – uh, I thought….” His speech sputtered into harsh screeches, staccato and hard to distinguish.

 “I’ll go ahead and take your word on— No, wait. I don’t remember some guy.” Arthur flinched, his head ached too. “I remember running, and I know I was scared shitless.” Lewis gawked down at him, for once it was endearing and mortified despite circumstances. “Some… guy?”

 “In a mask?” Lewis cocked his skullish brow.

 Arthur nodded. Ooh. Hurt. “That I remember, I think. Fuck… damn. You didn’t go after him?”

 “You. FELL.”

 Arthur pinched his brow. “Okay. Shut up. You… I can barely understand you. What? I’m the one that—” He withered, trapped in place by the barrier of boxes bent around him. The barbaric cry could terrify morally questionable crocodiles.

 The wild and furious snarl was Lance’s doing. He crept in closer to the spirit with his arms outstretched and two fingers locked together forming a significant and easy to recognize T. Or X. No, it was a definitely a T. A crucifix, like in the movies.

 “Evil… BOO! I banish yu!” Lance scooted in closer, edging out around at an imaginary tether which directed him toward Arthur. Determination in his eyes and sweat on his brow, his beard frazzled, that glare did not loosen from the invading spirit. “I don’t believe in this spook fun house nan-sense, but I’ll not have yur sort here terrorizing my kid!”

 A touch annoyed Lewis drooped. He debated straight up punching Lance’s lights out or stuffing him in a car trunk. Anything to get him out of the way, if only for a couple minutes. They didn’t need this.

 Arthur groaned. Everything was loud and annoying, it wasn’t just Lewis. His grumbling kicked up into a theatrical scream, “A g-g-ghost! Here! You’d better leave, disgruntled… apparition? Fuk, I don’t have the pharmacy enough for this bullshit.” He leaned to the side, moaning. “I mean, eeek! Argh! Spirit! You had better leave, before… I dunno, you’re banished by my dear Uncle’s very clear, um… exorcism. Or whatever he’s doing. OOoooOOooOOOOOoooohhhh….” Under his breath, he spat, “For fuk’s sake, you’re compelled to obey!”

 Lewis crossed his arms and leaned a little away from Lance. “Yeaaahhhh, gunna hit that up with a hard no. Not really in the mood, capiche?” He glowered directly down on Lance, right at his face with gloved hands outstretched with that ridiculous T. “Stop that or I’ll give you something to bitch about.”

 Arthur took a sharp breath. “Why do you hafta be so pissy?” Everything. HURT.

 “Stop with the language, and I might consider an attitude adjustment.”

 Arthur screwed his eyes shut. “Uncle Lance, that’s not gunna work.”

 Lance fizzled out. “Ehh.” He gawked at the skull, and the skull glared back. For the life of him, he could not begin to figure how it was suspended there. “Then… what will work?” He shuffled the remainder of the way to Arthur and crouched down, protectively. His gaze never wavered from the hostile… it was a ghost, wasn’t it? “What d’we do? How d’yu get rid of it?”

 “We don’t get rid of HIM,” Lewis huffed, pointing at Lance. “HE gets an ice pack for Arthur. Keep an eye on him.” In a flash of sparks, Lewis vanished – the extinguished cinder formed an outline before the ash hit the floor.

 The unexpected flare forced Lance to recoil, more from the vibrancy than any anticipated retribution. Once the haze faded, he searched around. No sound, no evidence of the spirits presence – aside from that familiar burning. That wasn’t important, what was important was Arthur.

 “Yu’re the expert. Is there… a pesteecide? Tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

 Arthur struggled to get up. “It’s a….” He flopped back, it was worse than a ballpit, made worse by the throbbing in his head and shoulders. He could remember up to the jeep, then it all got somewhat fuzzy. Lance assisted in easing him off the crumpled mold of his shape, nice and easy, careful not to rush. “He’s like a thorn bur, you try plucking it off and you’ll get third-degree burns.”

 Lance blinked. “WHAT?! Is that whut happened to your neck?!”

 This was not needed right now. And the guy, their mysterious assailant. Where was he now? Arthur couldn’t debate it out too hard, though some of the ache was fading, subsiding into a monotonous drum. He groaned in his throat.

 Then, on the floor. He noticed it beside one of the crushed boxes, snowed in by packing peanuts. The cracked locket. Despite dislocation, it persisted to pulse in time with the throbbing in his ears.

 “Shit-shit!” He scrambled out of Lance’s grip and snatched the thing up; it took a beating by the looks. The hinge creaked and unexpectantly the door swung open, threatening to pop off. Cursing, he struggled to hold it one handed without the whole thing coming apart. Without meaning too, he saw within. There was a photograph. He inched down, squinting at the textures and shapes, trying to make sense of what was there. He didn’t know there was—

 A dark hand snapped the locket from Arthur’s grasp and shut it. He bristled. Lewis had returned. The spirit looked downright sinister, as he set the ashen artifact back to his chest.

 “I didn’t—” Lance grabbed Arthur and heaved him back. Lance’s valiant efforts halted, when Lewis unceremoniously shoved him off. An icebag settled on Arthur’s head.

 Lewis knelt on one knee, one hand loaded with supplies. “I’ll invoke my deeply nefarious plot for revenge at a later time. When you’re fixed and patched, and likely better apt to outrun me.” He adjusted the last few items in his hand, by tucking a water bottle into the crook of his arm and twisting open a pill bottle. “You get one of these.” He set aside the pill bottle and popped the cap on the water bottle, enough to break the seal.

 Sprawled on his back, Lance observed with a perplexity beyond known rational. “Okay. What is goin’ on ‘ere?” He moved upright and jabbed out a hand toward the spirit. “What is this thing, really?”

 Lewis glared. “Rude.”

 Arthur swallowed the pill and took the water bottle. “It’s not the strong stuff.” Rather sip, he pressed the chilled bottle to his neck.

 “The strong stuff will put you in a coma, and as much as I’d prefer that, I need you awake for awhile. It’s a concussion, not a concession.”

 “Mmm, I’m lovin’ the bedside manner. You’re such a dish.” He took a sip and let the water warm before he swallowed. “Oof.”

 “Thank you for noticing, I’ve been wor—”

 “What in blazes is goin’ on!” Lance exploded, figuratively. “Arthur Kingsman! Explain! Should I call a priest, a medic! Or… what! What m’I suppose to do? Yu’n Viv-vi dealt with this’n supernatural mischief! Professionally! I can’t have these….” He jabbed a hand the spirits way, grasping for words, “…these critters, creeping into my shop! I need somethin’!”

 Arthur hung his head and sipped more water. On the sideline stood Lance tapping his foot, veins popped on his face. This was such a mess he wasn’t sure what to say or do, where to begin. “I need another pill.”

 “No,” Lewis grated.

 “Arthur,” Lance grumbled, tone stern but considerably nerfed since the eruption. “Tell me somethin’. What am I supposed to do here? I wan tu help.”

 “It’s me, Uncle Lance. Lewis Pepper.” Arthur choked on the water he was sipping. “You shot me, by the way.” Arthur made a sound, but if it was human or not was the riddle. “Maybe don’t inhale….”

 Lance stiffened; teeth clenched. For a full minute he didn’t say a word, but his sturdy outline quaked. “No!”

 “Well,” Lewis chattered, “You didn’t… kill me, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry. But you did shoot me, like, twenty times.”

 “It was four!”

 “Whatever.” The Lewis spirit fixed Lance with his scalding ember eyes, not looking pleased. And there was some familiarity in that expression, despite how feral and agitated it was now. Despite it being a bleached skull, lacking traditional and easily mapped expression.  “It didn’t feel nice.”

 “Impossible! Yu can’t be Lewis!” Lance stamped a foot. “Yu are not Lewis! That dusn’t work!”

 Arthur exhaled, catching the attention of both. “Can you not shout?” He pinched the water bottle in his arm crook and adjusted the ice bag on his neck, before it slid off. “He’s Lewis, okay? He’s not alive, but he is Lewis. We sort of… Viv-vi and I, ran across him awhile back.” How to explain THAT mess! “He was there, and we had car trouble….”

 “Funny story,” Lewis broke in. “Thrilling in a lot of ways. Quite the adventure.”

 “No! No-no-no-no-no- no-no-no-no! And NO!” Lance swung his arms out, declaring, “Lewis Pepper is dead, gone! He’s never coming back! You said so yuserlf! Yu and Viv-vi, you kids gotta let that go.”

 Arthur face palmed against the water bottle. Oh boy.

 Lewis rose to his full height, was it possible he made himself taller? He became a looming, malevolent shadow with piercing eyes. “And maybe I don’t want to let them go. Have ya ever thought of that? Uncle Lance?”

 Arthur dumped everything and leapt up. He caught Lewis by the tie. “That’s it! I’m calling time out!” To Lance, “Uncle, this is Lewis! He’s dead, it’s a long story, and it is my— ”

 “A bitch!”

 “You! Lew? What’s gotten into you?”

 Lewis hunched over placing his skull inches from Arthur’s face. “He. SHOT. Me!”

 “And? You can’t feel it!”

 “It hit me right in the feels! Nineteen times!”

 Lance hooted, “It was four, ya dumb spook!” He flinched when Lewis looked his way, eye sockets flooded thick with flames flickering. “I don’t BELIEVE in this bogus heebie-jeevies! Why d’I hafta look at it, when I don’t believe in it? This ain’t right!”

 “That’s offensive,” Lewis shrieked, “I don’t appreciate your tone!”

 A ringing chimed loud and brilliant in the momentary calm amid the fury of the storm. Arthur staggered away, first jamming a hand into his pocket and realized his phone wasn’t there. Of course she would call. They were super fucking late, they should’ve been back days ago.

 Arthur pushed through the office doorway and fumbled for the light. In his alarm, he forgot it was on the side of his left arm. He gave up, and went straight to the buzzing receiver on the desk.

 “Lords, I hope they don’t kill each other….” He shifted around and checked out the doorway. “Or, I hope Lewis doesn’t— Viv-vi! HEY!” The icepack was sorely missed. “No, everything’s fine. What, uh… gave you that idea? What about my voice?”

 Lance squeezed into the office, rifle in hand. “It doesn’t belong ‘ere. End of discussion.”

 Lewis hung in the doorway, eyes flashing and flames swelling off his shoulders. He was going to ignite something. The whole shop would implode, just like the mansion. “I’ll tell you what doesn’t belong here! We need to exorcise that nasty attitude! See how you like it!”

 Arthur pulled the phone from his ear and fitted the mouthpiece into his palm. “WHY! Did you two follow me.” He shoved the phone to his shoulder. “No! We, er… yu see what happened here, we’ll— I really can’t explain. I need an adult.”

 Lance reached for the phone. “Lemme talk to her!”

 Arthur sprang back, holding the phone high above his head. “No!”

 “Te satisfaría? If I show you? Arthur, I need a mirror.”

 Arthur climbed onto the desk, screeching into the phone, “Vivi, for the love of holy doughnuts, please come here, asap! I don’t care if someone sees Mystery! You! Here! NOW!” He slammed the phone down and scrambled off the desk, completely losing his footing in the process and nearly faceplanting. “Can you both NOT SCREAM bloody murder for two minutes! Five minutes? S’all I’m asking!”

 After that outburst, both Lance and Lewis clamped up. Arthur shoved his way out the door past Lewis, and crossed the floor back to where he abandoned the ice bag and water. He plopped down on the ground with his back to them, his lone hand fastened to his springy hair, and wilted.

 “Fuck.” Lewis swayed, drawing a hand up to the front of his suit. He eased a ways out beyond the portal but paused, once more fiddling with his tie. To the side, Lance was inching out.

 The look on Arthur’s face, he’d never seen an expression on his nephew quite like it. Except when…. Lance’s first instinct was get to him, the lad was distraught – the intuition an understatement – Arthur needed… a word. Support. But an arm slashed through his path, stalling the reflexive drive. He nearly refuted the action, the protest was on the tip of his tongue. But something snatched the words away, his throat became dry. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

 Given the chance to observe the spirit – as it were – a moment to examine the features, it’s strangeness; a sense of familiarity soaked into him. When it wasn’t glaring or coiled up, he could get the feel for something else. Like a shadow stamped into the world he understood, a vivid memory of someone he could easily recognize from a distance. An unmistakable figure, distinct from a crowd. This… thing, it looked nothing like Lewis Pepper, but the gait it carried, the movement of its arms, it was unmistakable. Somehow, he knew this… thing, but dissension saturated the connection, and its presence was disjointed. It wasn’t alive, yet it was here. Most important of all, it wasn’t going away.

 “You, uh… I think he’ll be fine.” When Lance spoke, the smoldering returned. It did NOT like him. So, what was it? What, not who. It couldn’t be…. “I’m… gunna sit down, fer a bit.”

 Lance left for the breakroom and made himself a pot of coffee. When he returned from the recess, pot in hand and a stack of Styrofoam cups; Arthur was still seated far from the office, but updated to a stack of boxes that bore his weight. He gave a brief nonintrusive examination, only to confirm he was still breathing and not in any sort of apparent pain. From there, he went to the office to clear his thoughts and keep an eye on the area.

 The lights hadn’t been turned on at all, and he almost forgot about the… thing. In the shroud, he nearly missed it seated at one of the chairs facing the desk, eyes aglow, the faint shimmer of its stylish hair. It sat arms crossed tightly, one leg slanted over the other. It didn’t respond when Lance entered.

 “I think you have a story to share.” Lance sat one cup in front of the spirit and poured some coffee. The spirit refused to acknowledge his presence, and almost appeared photographic in its uncanny stillness; it wouldn’t even look at him. He reached over the side of his desk and pried open a drawer, and from the drawer, pulled up a small tray with containers of sweetener and nondairy creamers. “You a lil sour? What’s up?” He poured a cup for himself and blew at the harsh steam. “Not doin’ nothin’ but broodin’.”

 There was a change in the spirit. The gleaming eyes were now locked on the white cup steaming in front of it.

 “I don’t understand how this works,” Lance admitted. He plucked up the dislocated phone from the desk and set it back to the receiver. “Am I supposed t’say a special codeword? Is there a ritual, an uh… Ouiguh board.” The lamp on his desk flickered, came on, and then the bulb popped in a firework splash. Lance winced, sharply withdrawing his hand. Okay, what the FUCK. “Did yu do that?”

 “Not on purpose.” Praise the stars, it spoke. “Check on Arthur.”

 He wasn’t certain if that was a hint, or a direct command. “Juz did. He’s fine. This is mah office, by the way.” He managed to get a sip of his coffee. “I won’t harass him with this, not now. And I won’t wait for Vivi-vi. Before we get tu this…. Yu say a person….”

 “Guy in a mask.”

 “All right.” Lance nodded. “Before we pop that can of worms, before any of that. You’re here. I’ll go so far as admit that. But,” he gestured vaguely. “How did this happen?” Those vibrant eyes flicked up to him.

 “It’s complicated.”

 “Hmm. Don’t like t’way you said that.”

 “Funny. I could care less what you think.”

 Lance took another sip, and set his cup down. “Listen. Ghost Lewis.”

 “Just Lewis,” the spirit had a wispy, sometimes airy way of speaking. The voice didn’t come from it, which made sense, because it didn’t have a mouth. “I’m still Lewis. The only difference, I lost custody of the body.” He huffed, and a bright flame flashed from its neck collar. Lance leaned back in his chair, uncertain what to make of… everything.

 “Lewis, then.” He moved his line of sight out of the office, once more checking on Arthur. “Y’know Arthur’s m’boy, and I won’t have yu tormentin’ him.”

 For a few minutes Lance sat, mulling through a history he thought was sheltered away in the deep parts of his memories where he preferred not to dwell. His fingers pressed tighter around the defenseless cup in his grasp, the warmth seeped through the insulated material and into the thick gloves he wore. The white of the cup cut through the bleak patterns of the gloom, reminding him of the brightest sheets he’d ever seen – specks of crimson and brown, where the bandages couldn’t stifle the work to recreate a shoulder. Arthur delirious and agonized, unaware that he was maimed as badly as he was. The details were unattainable, shattered and cast out a window. Nothing helped, no amount of medication.

 Something happened. Vivi lost her memory. It was awful. Mystery was gone, vanished entirely like a… well. Arthur was beyond consoling, overrun by trauma, nearly splint in two. There was no way to construct a complete narrative, aside from it being a terrible Accident. Irreversible. Lewis never came back, and Arthur insisted that would never change. And they had to accept that.

 If he held the Styrofoam cup any tighter, it would spill all over his desk. Lance rubbed at his face, trying to quell his thoughts. Those nightmares kept him up some nights, but he was a master of not showing on the worst days. Arthur had enough to deal with, and apparently more so these days. He sighed, still refusing to raise his gaze to the thing seated across from him, trying to dwell on the mystery of how it could be so devoid of warmth despite what looked like an ember wavering near its shoulder. He tried once more:

 “He’s said some things I don’t fully grasp, admitted stuff I don’t have a full spectrum or insight intu.” He rubbed a thumb over the rim of the cup, gazing into the dark depths of the liquid within. “‘E’s been through enough, he’s regretted t’things that happen’. Losin’ you… I don’t even think he realized ‘iz arm was gone, not until—”

 “Uncle Lance.” It was almost heartening, the way the spirit – Ghost Lewis. Just Lewis – persisted to refer to him as Uncle, same as his friends. The same way he did when alive. “I lost my life, and all of that had a negative effect on me, on my… prospect for living, and being.” The spirit moved, uncoiling his arms and gently caressed the vibrating heart at its chest. “It’s a topic we try not to touch on. I tend to stray far away from it all.”

 How easy it touched upon the subject of its demise, as if it was all a matter of inconvenience. Was it meant to comfort him? Lance took a sip. “Juz curious, but… was there plans to… accept and reconcile, or something?” The eyes narrowed at him and the bristling embers constricted into a needle point dot.

 “What are you getting at, now?”

 Lance blew at the steam in his cup. The eyes of the spirit flashed, agitated by something, some unknown insult. “I’m not getting’ why your still ‘round. Aren’t spooks supposed to do’n the, is it the crop circle thing?”

 Lewis cocked a rigid eyebrow. “Cross… over? No. Nope, it’s not a requirement for certain cases.”

 “I have a suspicion that there’s more tu it than—” Without warning, Lewis bolted up from the seat – the flash of movement shocked Lance, in that it was vacuum less and silent. Only the light dousing out, as Lewis’ wide shoulders zipped out the doorway. The embers once swirling his space extinguished altogether, plunging the room into total darkness.

 The catalyst must’ve been the racketing dog yaps, which entered onto the work floor. Soon after there was Vivi, racing over to the middle of the room and dashing her eyes around. Mystery was her guide, leading directly to the side wall where Arthur had remained hunched over. Arthur gave her the barest attention when she reached his side and leaned low. An exchange of words followed. Then, Vivi raised her sight to the office doorway.

 Without a word, Lewis approached the group, arms clasped behind his back. When Lance emerged from his quarters fully and the light ensnared him, Vivi set her eyes upon him, and they became saucers. In retrospect, it did explain some things, though not nearly enough if Lance was honest. Something about all this didn’t settle right, and at the core of this drama was his boy, Arthur. If he couldn’t enlist Vivi’s aid in this, he might have to pursue other drastic means. But it wouldn’t work to be reckless. Being reckless is what nearly got him socked in the face, by something that claimed to be Lewis Pepper.