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#i know people always say ‘make bad art!!!!!’ but i don’t know how to learn to enjoy making bad art?

saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ JUST YOURS — LYNEY.

contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!

lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.

“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”

magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.

word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.

lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.

“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”

for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.

you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.

you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.

you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.

“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”

“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”

“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”

“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”

“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”

“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”

lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.

“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”

“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.

“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”

“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”

“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”

“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”

“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”

“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”

“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.

and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.

lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.

you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.

“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”

“lyney—”

“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”

“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.

you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.

“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”

“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”

“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”

“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.

maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.

i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact angst

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hopelesswritergall · 7 months

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His muse

A/N :So many people wanted it, so enjoy

Taglist(Comment, ask or message me to be added or removed): @daenerysapologist @howyouloveyourdragon @simp-aholic @thisaccountisrandomsstuff

Aemond would not say he is obsessed. Does he go out of his way to see you? If you count coming to the museum only on the days you work? Yes, then definitely. He once asked what days you were working, which was an innocent question. He just wanted to know when he could show you some of his own drawings.. So now every Sunday morning and Wednesday midday he is sitting at a bench looking at the paintings, holding his sketchbook tilted so you can’t see what he is drawing, which infuriates you to some degree. You were curious as to what he could be drawing, seeming to be on a new page every single day you see him. How many variations of one painting can a single man make?

It was Sunday morning and you had just taken your place in your designated room. Checking to see if the alarms were all working, getting some water and then it was a waiting game. Waiting for that usual guy, Aemond you had recently learned, to show up. You didn’t quite know what intrigued him this much about the painting, but alas, a customer is a customer after all. It was just 10 minutes after opening that you heard the oh so familiar sound of his leather boots on the floor. The way the light that was supposed to be on the paintings almost seemed to gravitate towards him, as if he was the main attraction. You gave him a quick nod and greeted him politely. “Goodmorning Aemond, coming to see the same paintings again? For the twentieth time, it must be already.”

“But of course, the art always seems to be a little different each time I visit. It’s worth it, the paintings inspire me.” he would say as he grabbed his little sketchbook and supplies.

“To everyone their own I suppose. We are hosting a competition by the way, it is about artwork inspired by paintings here! Why don’t you submit your work? You’ve been practicing so long, I’m sure you will win.”

He would’ve loved to, just to see your excitement, but the only problem is that his drawings weren’t inspired by the paintings. They were inspired by his muse. You

“Oh well I don’t think that is such a great idea….” He would mumble, almost inaudible.

“Oh come on, I’m sure it isn’t that bad! Just show me, I’m sort of the jury, I can find you some advice in advance.” You offered to him, while speaking you had ascended from your chair and started to walk over to where he was sitting. Aemond however hadn’t noticed this yet, it was only when he looked up to study you some more that he noticed you weren’t at your usual place. He then felt a presence looking over his shoulder and he quickly shut his book. But it was too late, you’d already seen it. Now you would probably get a restraining order against him, finding him a creep, a weirdo perhaps even a freak. He was preparing himself to get yelled at. But to his surprise it never came.

Instead you pointed out “My hair isn’t exactly that colour. It’s a bit off, but it was a pretty drawing!”

“You aren’t freaked out? Creeped out by it?”

“Should I be? I think it rather endearing that out of everything that we have in this museum you pick me to draw! I think of it as a compliment!”

“Well you are kinda my muse after all… I just felt this connection the first time I saw you, and then I couldn’t help but draw you, and then again and again…”

“How about we go for a drink? After I’m done working? The white stag perhaps? And after that we could discuss a perhaps more professional drawing session. Where I’d model for you. How does that sound?”

“What time do you get off?”

#hotd x reader #hotd modern au #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond fic #aemond x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern hotd

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punkpandapatrixk · 1 year

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🪩Your World-Changing Talents — Timeless Pick A Card

First, you change something about yourself, because you see the value in doing so, then you change your worldview. Second, you devote yourself to your Personal Happiness, because you see that happy people create better, kinder worlds, then you pursue your Art. Third, you jump timelines and shift your Personal Reality, and as you create your Destiny, so you sprinkle the world with excitement that is like that of your own~!💅🏻👗👒✨🦋

SONG for all piles: Tsukema Tsukeru by Kyary Pamyu Pamyu

MOVIE for all piles: Kamikaze Girls (2004)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

Reading guide: For those unfamiliar with tarot meanings, your ‘8 of Pentacles’ devotion—the second segment of this PAC—revolves around your almost sacrificial determination to pursue your Art. Whatever you choose to do with your Life, to become something great in this world… anything worth achieving in this world… always requires a certain degree of sacrifice. Dunno who the fuck came up with that Law, but that’s how it is in most cases.

Whether or not your sacrifices will be worth your while, is a pondering you can only answer after you’ve walked the plank and made manifest all you thought would be important to you. But remember this tiny fact: your Life Force has a time limit. So I always say, ‘If you’re gonna spill blood sweat and tears for anything at all, make sure it’s something that’s important to your Soul’.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Flame of Vengeance Incarnate

VIBE: Yoyuu by AKKOGORILLA

your untapped superpowers – 5 of Cups

I think you’re someone who carries a pool of regrets in your heart. You don’t always swim in it, but it’s like a weird aquarium of all your disappointments in a world you’ve come to know, and dislike, which you carry inside of you. When you were a kid, you already had set expectations about what you want to be or do with your Life. I guess you weren’t allowed to be yourself; weren’t supported in pursuing your heart’s true desires. You thought to yourself, ‘It’s not like what I like is a bad thing!’

People’s failure to understand where you’re coming from broke your heart—perhaps also self-esteem. You could’ve been made fun of for your unique perspectives. Because you were different, people acted as if you were out of touch with reality—like you were insane for even having thoughts and desires that didn’t match the norms. Your behaviours, mannerisms and fashion could’ve also been a source of your getting ‘bullied’ or belittled, in a manner of speaking.

Do you actually understand why you’re viewed so differently like this? The truth is, you’re an alien. You’re an astronaut with a mission. Two scenarios: 1. You came here to play whilst learning to understand the unique limitations that afflict the world of the Humans, 2. You came here specifically to break down conventions and boundaries because the limitations of the Human world are causing its inhabitants to stray even further from the truth of the Divine GOD of All That Is.

your ‘8 of Pentacles’ devotion – 7 of Cups

In a manner of speaking, you came into this world with a specific desire to not fit in, because your Soul’s purpose is to add more layers, shades, depths of colours into the Human experience. I hope that makes sense, seriously. You’re not necessarily a fighter of sort (you could decide to be though), but you’re just wanting to show people: ‘Yo, there are many ways to enjoy a Human’s Life. You don’t have to be restricted like that. Damn!’

Of all the piles, your rebellious spirit is the loudest. You could identify as an Indigo, Crystal or Rainbow Child. You could also have been born in the 50s, 60s, or you’re just generally into the punk aesthetic of that era. It was an era of vulgar charisma. Something about the spirit of rebellion of many artists during that era speaks to your Soul and could’ve inspired a pressing desire for Freedom. You like your Freedom and you’d do anything in your power to protect that Liberty—your sheer dignity for being alive.

You shouldn’t (you know you wouldn’t) stop dreaming your ideal Reality, no matter the oppositions. The drabness of the world actually pisses you off, and you want to fight that grotesque by being exactly your weird and wonderful self. You are fuelled by some kind of rage about the ropes put around people’s necks when it comes to choosing their own dreams or other people’s. You seek to destroy those ropes and avenge those whose flames of passion have been dimmed by their societies. You know you’d never allow yourself to be ordinary because your very existence IS your vengeance.

support for you to thrive – 4 of Cups Rx

I know you’re afraid of cages and lethargy. You’re most afraid of living the same days over and over again and repeating the same routines that have nothing to do with your Soul’s truths. You’re afraid of living the rest of your Life being normal, vanilla, unaccomplished, and above all, insignificant and unmemorable. This particular fear runs in the background of your mind and could cause you to want to be changeable at all times. But living on Planet Earth, a little bit of structure is necessary if you want to maintain any semblance of sanity.

Rather than being always ready to try all kinds of venue—to challenge or prove yourself in all ways to all people—try to really know the few things that actually matter to you. If you could devote yourself to only a handful of things that you know you will never regret dedicating your lifetime and energy into, you could become a real master of something meaningful. And if you do care about what some close people think about you, perhaps this is the best approach?

I think you could really change your world the moment you decide to focus. But first you have to find the precious light bulbs that shine a Light on the things that are treasures to your Heart. You probably won’t have enough numbers in your years to try and explore all possibilities, right? So, focus. Focus on one or two things that really matter. Below essay may be of some use😉

☆°・. Devotion to A Vocation .・°☆ | Punk Girl Culture + Pick A Card

PARADIGM SHIFT🔻💗

raison d’être by your Oversoul – Red Astrologer (William Lilly)

manifesting with the Magic of your being – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – All-Encompassing Spiritual Courage & Creativity

VIBE: NEXT LEVEL by aespa

your untapped superpowers – XIX The Sun

Since you were a child, you have always been different in that you saw the world with a brilliance in your Third Eye that allows you to see the deeper truths—as well as deceits—of the world. Always wiser beyond your years, you were practically a child sage. You saw through the black and white lies of the adults around you. And you felt a cold disregard for the mundanity of the hobbies and activities children your age were into.

You saw quite clearly some really strange things about the Human world that were normalised. And you couldn’t wrap your head around all this normalcy that wasn’t normal to you. In your heart, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be absorbed into all that insanity. So you created a world of your own that had nothing to do with the one you were part of. The world of your creation had only the colours you liked. It was separate from your immediate reality, but this inner world contained everything that would one day become your real Reality.

Of all the piles, I think you’re the most likely to become a celeb of some kind. Probably even a superstar in the entertainment industry. But whatever your line of vocation may be, you are definitely someone who will be recognised vastly by the public. Mostly for what you do to shine a new light unto this drab world of deceit. You could become some sort of a whistle blower—sharing with the world hidden truths that would liberate the minds of many people.

your ‘8 of Pentacles’ devotion – Page of Wands Rx

I think you’re someone who’s always been clear about certain evil and malice in the world that you think you were born to fight. But if you had to fight anything at all, it was that you had to fight for your place in the world. You believed that when you get older, you’ll be able to do something about all that’s wrong, abnormal, about the world. I’m not even sure if you’re fully aware of this, but…

Do you struggle within yourself to make manifest simple desires that should come easily to fulfil your basic needs—for your psychological and spiritual wellbeing? Manifestation doesn’t seem to work in your favour as easily as it does other people. You may have wondered what you’re doing wrong in the world for God to disfavour you so much. You can’t really understand what others are doing right for their manifestations to come so quickly.

But… easy come easy go, right? Your Soul actually has a very particular interest in understanding how the Devil works in this Matrix of a world we are living in. That’s why you’ve dealt with some serious lethargy and lack at some point in your Life. All for you to truly understand limitations, lack mindset, and many other trauma issues that typically hold people back from making manifest a Life of their true desires. If you can fully understand how limitations are set in place, you can unravel them for good!

support for you to thrive – Queen of Wands

If you chose this pile, there’s a very high chance you’re a Starseed. That’s why you refused to be like your environment or upbringing. You had this NEXT LEVEL understanding of who you are on a Soul level. You believed you were higher than the folly of Mankind. Sounds like arrogance, but what can you do when you’re literally nobler than the rest of Humanity, whose main characteristics are destructive, deceitful and bloodthirsty? You’ve always known you’re better than THAT.

Of all the piles, I think you’d resonate with the idea of never having your own free will. To some extent, it’s quite true because you’re like this important agent of change whose mission is too important to fail. From the Higher Realms, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides were almost controlling your every step so you’d always be guided towards your Highest Destiny. From your perspective down here, some things may seem unfair. But if you could’ve seen things from your Higher Self’s perspective, you’d understand how supported you are in this messy Game called A Human’s Life.

If you’ve resonated with this pile, please acknowledge you’re a very special individual. You really came to Earth to be a trailblazer of sort. You’re definitely going to be famous one way or another. And although you may be worried about certain aspects of Life right now, there’s a secret here: knowing how much of your Life is dictated by your Higher Self, do you really think you could ever fail—at anything, really?

I’d recommend you read the previous segment again with this in mind😉

PARADIGM SHIFT🔻💛

raison d’être by your Oversoul – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

manifesting with the Magic of your being – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – No-Nonsense Happy Go Lucky Attitude

VIBE: 2 Baddies & Ay-Yo by NCT 127

your untapped superpowers – Queen of Swords

Okay, I think people underestimate you because of the way you look, or that you don’t talk a lot. But you’re a quiet engine. There’s a lot going on in that pretty head of yours. You’re really intelligent, in fact, so intelligent you’re literally a weirdo for doing things differently. You know what I mean? Prof Snape, when he was a student at Hogwarts, figured out unusual-but-effective ways to brew his potions more quickly, with results that were even more potent. He was a quiet weirdo, but he was a brilliant potion master. Potion making was his interest, after all.

Do you know what your hobbies are? Are you brave enough to admit the things that light up your world? You must have pride in the pursuits that give true spiritual meaning to your Life. It’s your Life anyway. If you’re a bit shy about having strange interests, try to really understand the reasons your fears/worries/anxieties arise in the first place. Whose approval do you seek and why do you care anyway? Babe, it’s up to you what you wanna do with YOUR Life. Always remember that. On another note…

Because you’re so cute, or small, or soft-spoken, or just really patient (maybe just on the surface?), people think your head is empty. Mean people get really confident thinking they can fool you with their stupid words and stories. But quietly, you always, always see through their bullshit. One way or another, you always figure out who’s been shit talking behind your back, too. Your intellect literally cuts through the stupidity of conceited people. People would never expect such sharp intelligence to be housed in such a pretty face.

your ‘8 of Pentacles’ devotion – 10 of Cups

When you want to do well in the world, I think you really want to do it for your community. Your community could be your family, circle of friends, or the world at large, really. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit for how much you care. I think people could see you as standoffish, always doing your own thing, at your pace, can be quite lonesome, but you do care, dang, from a distance.

I think you don’t really want to be in close contact with people because you feel constantly misunderstood by them. It breaks your heart and you’re just afraid your hatred would only grow if you allowed yourself to feel that way always. So you intelligently decided to be a little closed off—it’s all your own protection as you also protect people from your nastiness (when you get upset). I think you’re really smart in that you know how to strike a balance. You just want to live in a peaceful world.

When you’re alone surrounded by only the things you like, you’re at your best. You think people should all strive to be a little selfish but happy like that. I think you could really change the world via showing people how prioritising your mental health and peace of mind leads to a better personality LOL

support for you to thrive – 3 of Pentacles Rx

You definitely need to work on your own. At least, you need to have your own thing that you can manage just by yourself. You know, the world isn’t the same as 50 years ago. Nowadays, thanks to the Internet, there are so many ‘jobs’ that can be managed alone. You can be an Internet creative in all kinds of medium. You could also be a solo small business owner. You could also be an online freelancer. You could also be an NFT miner or something.

I dunno, the possibilities for the future of ‘jobs’ are evolving constantly now and I think you’d be happy to know there are so many ways you can maintain your independence whilst avoiding dying alone and penniless. You don’t mind being alone; you just don’t wanna be penniless. And here is your confirmation that it is possible for you to live like that LMAO

Though I really think, when you’re much older you’ll eventually find your Soul Tribe and do exciting things with them. But that path will be accessible to you only after you’ve founded a solid base for yourself doing something you’re genuinely enjoying doing for the rest of your Life.

PARADIGM SHIFT🔻❤️

raison d’être by your Oversoul – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

manifesting with the Magic of your being – Priestess of Luck

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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starshapedkookie · 2 years

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Grapejuice

→ Why must you make me laugh so much? It's bad enough we get along so well, just say goodnight and go

pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung x reader)

genre: strangers to lovers (?), art student jungkook, art apprentice reader, angst, smut, fluff, art university au, oc is older than jungkook (only by 1 year), kind of inspired by titanic(?? idk just bear with me lol) *also i went to normal college, no idea how art universities work*

warnings: swearing, feelings of being lost, thoughts of infidelity… infidelity, descriptive smut (oral fem. receiving, fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, jk is big y'all!), smoking (cigarettes & 🍃), themes of being lost, sad, nepotism, everyone is lowkey a villain lmao

summary: At 24, your life was lined up to be perfect; talented, nice apartment, amazing boyfriend, and a dream job. Working as an art apprentice for Kim Seokjin was the exact opportunity you needed to kickstart your art career. However, after you’ve hit a creative wall at full speed, you feel more lost than ever. It’s not until one person shows up with no brakes on in your life that not only changes your entire perspective, but takes your breath away in the process.

word count: around 36k (i was in a silly goofy mood💀🤓)

all feedback is very much appreciated! i hope y'all enjoy!

⏤

Jungkook’s hand that’s on the railing begins to tighten around it, his knuckles turning white as frustration pulses through his veins. You notice his tight grip and you place your own hand over his to relax him some. There’s mere inches between you two now, but it’s comforting and it feels like only you two are left in the world—the party raging down below and throughout the house drowning out. While your head is spinning from the two glasses of alcohol that you had sipped on earlier, you know that most of it comes from his intoxicating scent. He’s everywhere at all times and you think this is some sick joke manifesting itself into reality as you feel yourself leaning into him. When he says your name slow and calculated, you know that you’re a puddle in his hands, ready for all the consequences that may come with your decision. You just don’t know exactly how it could have reached this point.

1 Month Earlier

If there was one thing about being an artist—it’s that it can absolute torture. You hated to admit how right-brained you actually were. You felt as if your mind moved much faster and more chaotic than most people. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t function with—you had dealt with it your whole life, finding different outlets for your energy and itchiness. You couldn’t remember the exact age that you picked up a crayon, but you knew it was younger than most.

A lot of your childhood seems to be a blur, only a few memories sticking out like a bookmark at times. One of the most prominent being at age 5 when you took a few Sharpies and marked all over the dining room wall, drawing what you thought to be a field of flowers. Turns out, it was just a black scribbled mess that ended up with you hiding in your room, terrified of how angry your mother had gotten at you. You had learned your lesson that day that the wall should not be your canvas of choice.

Crayons turned to colored pencils turned to watercolor turned to oils turned to whatever you could grab and extend your talent further. You hadn’t taken the original school route—your dad putting you in a special junior school for artists, all the way up until you graduated high school. Naturally, this lead you to going to university to major in the fine arts. As you sit here in your studio now, you’re unsure if that was the smartest decision.

The funny thing about artists is that you’re sure they are the type of people who crave and desperately need the most validation of any profession. You valued positive reinforcement to the point it could be crippling. You’re sure that it stems from some type of child-like validation you never received from really either of your parents. They were always hard on you but your dad was the more lenient one of the two; your mom too selfish in her own abilities to look your way.

You glance up to the clock hanging on the wall. It’s nearing 3 in the afternoon which means you only have one class left for today. You were by no means a professor, however as part of your apprenticeship—it was required by your senior, Kim Seokjin, to assist some of his lectures. Like you, Kim Seokjin was a tortured soul with such talent that it was hard to comprehend as an onlooker. You were nearing 25, Seokjin was over 30 and he had built much more of a name for himself than you probably ever would. Despite the hundreds of artists just in the area surrounding the neighborhood and university, he was one of the best. He taught only the uppermost level classes at the university, handpicking the students himself to teach. You were lucky enough to have kissed his ass enough as an undergrad for him to accept you into his apprenticeship program. It didn’t pay much—starving artists was an absolutely true trope—but it paid the bills and at least you weren’t in a crippling, life-draining office job.

You give one last glance to the large canvas in front of you before throwing in your colorfully stained apron over an easel in the corner.

You check off the mental note to bring Seokjin the rest of the paint he wanted for today’s last class. You hurry into his own smaller studio/office that’s right near yours and pick up the tray of paints he’s set out. Afraid that you’ll be late for class—which was Seokjin’s biggest pet peeve, you hurry out of his office and back down to the main classroom. As you turn down the main corridor, you don’t even recognize what’s happened when you crash into a body, slipping backwards and letting go of the tray of paints, halfway falling backwards with a yelp until something—someone—manages to catch your fall just in time.

Your eyes are completely ignoring whatever stranger is holding you in a such a strong embrace that it’s taking your breath away and looking over at the colors which now paint the hallway.

“Fuck,” is the first thought that crosses your mind and when you finally look up at who’s got you—the second thing to cross your mind? Shit—who is this?

“Are you okay? Fuck I’m so sorry, I-I have to run these papers to advising before my class,” the stranger rambles on, his grip still tight around your body. He’s got you pressed against his chest, one of his hands around your waist tightly, the other holding your other arm out awkwardly, giving away that’s what he originally caught you with.

Your mouth slightly gapes open, confused and getting angrier at the second. Seokjin was going to murder you. That or just take the paints out of your next paycheck—which you honestly would rather take the former. With all of your might, you push yourself away from the man who you crashed into, feeling his grip on your arm even after he’s let go.

“I’m fine,” you spit out, running a hand through your hair in frustration. You bend down and start to pick up the paint that indeed survived the fall, placing them back on the tray one by one. To your surprise, the stranger bends down too, helping you place everything back into the tray neatly.

“I’m sure there are some towels—“

“The janitors will get it, it’s fine,” you interrupt the boy who keeps a mild expression on his features. It’s true though, spilled paint is nothing out of the ordinary for the cleanup crew. It was a school of arts after all.

You leave without saying another word to the stranger. You march towards the classroom, ready to hear it in front of Seokjin and all of his students. The thought mortified you, but it happened to his apprentices more often than you would think. Seokjin’s tactics are scary and intimidating but they are like that on purpose. He wants his students to be the best and he wants his apprentices to be even better. And your work as of recent and now this incident? You were surely not that.

Seokjin doesn’t acknowledge when you let him know about the spilled paints, giving you a dismissing—clearly annoyed—glance before he begins his last abstract painting class. The classroom space is large and bright filled with 11 students exactly. Six working spaces down each side of the rectangle, a lone working space in the back corner of the room. You remembered taking this class vividly, finding the abstract work natural to you and your paint brushes. While you enjoyed abstract, your speciality lied in realism—whether it be through pencils or oils or paints.

In many ways your role in the classroom acted similarly as a graduate student would at a normal university. You were there to provide help to the other students when needed, but the basis of your apprenticeship under Soekjin was to gain experience and build up your portfolio. Lecturing in art school is obviously quite different than regular university. Instead of an hour and a half of note taking, it was a simple debrief at the beginning of classes and then the remainder time was for working.

During Seokjin’s brief monologue, the back door of the classroom opens in a rush, the same stranger from earlier entering in, demanding attention away from the teacher.

“Sorry I’m late—I had to drop off some papers in the administrative office,” the stranger explains as he walks up towards Seokjin. They shake hands quickly, Seokjin introducing him to the class.

“Everyone, this is Jeon Jungkook—he’s just transferred in from another department, please welcome him in kindly.”

Jeon Jungkook. A few of the student’s eyes light up as he gives a small wave to everyone. You’re leaning against the wall a few feet behind Jungkook and Seokjin but suddenly Jungkook must have noticed your small movement of crossing your arms over your chest. He nearly does a double take as you make brief eye contact. He’s handsome, you can tell that much as you hadn’t paid much attention when he bumped into you earlier. Jungkook is giving you another apologetic look until you’re the first one to look away, gazing back over the entire class.

Once class presumes, Jungkook takes the empty workstation towards the back of the classroom, beside of Kim Jisoo and across from Kim Yugyeom.

“Y/N?” Seokjin says from where he stands, motioning you to come to him. You push yourself off the wall, sauntering over to your boss.

“Yes?”

“Meet me in my office after this class is over. I don’t really need you in here today so just continue working on what you need to,” he says only giving you a short glance. Your stomach drops. 99% of the time, if Seokjin wanted to meet in his office, it never really meant good news. Noticing some of his students who are sitting up front are listening, you only give him a short smile with a nod. The last thing you needed was his students talking about how shitty his chosen apprentice truly was.

You push yourself off the wall, your feet carrying you quickly out of the classroom. Little to your knowledge, the stranger from earlier only had his eyes on you as you disappeared from the classroom.

⏤

It’s only less than a couple hours later you find yourself standing in front of Seokjin’s office. You are gripping your tote bag tightly against your side, the rattling of your materials the only thing your mind can solely focus on. Sending a quick prayer up to whoever, you knock gently on the door and a hear a subtle noise for you to come in.

You force a small smile on your face as you enter the office, making eye contact with Seokjin immediately. He makes you so intensely nervous that it can be hard to stomach being around him—but the validation and credibility he gives your portfolio—it will be worth it in the end.

“Hi,” you say as he motions you to take a seat at his desk. He’s sat across from you, finishing typing away at his computer before he gives you any attention. His office is quite the opposite of what you would expect an artist’s office to be. It was all monochromatic and cream with touches of mahogany brown in the furniture and cabinets. There was barely any art on the walls, just a few small canvases that you recognized as his own pieces. You have to hold in a laugh at his narcissism.

“Thanks for coming by, I don’t want to keep you too late,” he says emotionless.

“No worries,” you shake your head, “Is everything okay?”

He hesitates before he responds, leaning back into his giant office chair that looks divinely comfortable.

“I actually wanted to present you with that question Y/N,” he speaks slowly, as if he’s studying you and your reaction.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Me?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue yourself.

“I-I don’t think I understand,” you stutter anxiously, feeling yourself getting hot in the tiny office. This is it—this is where you die. Over spilled fucking paint.

“Y/N,” he pauses to lean forward on his forearms, “You were one of my most exemplary students in undergrad which is why out of all the candidates, I choose you to be one of my apprentices. I just can’t help but feel you’ve been… well, lacking in the work you’re putting out..”

His words are slow and calculated, as if he has rehearsed them many times over before spelling it out for you. Your shoulders begin to slump and you now wish you were being reprimanded over spilled fucking paint. You don’t even know what to say, so you don’t. Seokjin takes your silence with respect, continuing for you.

“I just want you to be your best artistic self. I know what a slump feels like and if you need any help—“

“No,” you interject quickly, “It’s just—“ you pause, wanting to think about what you’re saying before you speak, “It’s just I’ve just been a little uninspired lately, but no I definitely don’t need help.”

The last thing you needed was for Seokjin to think you couldn’t handle your own. The world of professional art was ruthless. You figured this out by your early teens when your mother had a gallery that was quote “a crashing bore of monotone, desperately wanting to be something it’s not.” After that, she locked herself in her bedroom for 3 days. You needed to prove to yourself you could handle piece after piece by yourself. If you couldn’t prove it to you, who on the outside would believe you could?

Seokjin narrows his eyes at you and you’re sure he definitely doesn’t believe you. “The final exhibit is coming up, I just don’t want you to lose sight of it.”

Knowing today’s date, the final exhibit is coming faster than you would like. Nearly 2 months away, but Seokjin is right. Art takes time, patience, and inspiration. Three things that you’re running out of.

“I appreciate the concern,” you say as genuine as you can, gritting through your annoyed smile, “But I promise you, I’m fine. I’m sure you know how it is to be in a funk.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. If he wasn’t such an intimidating asshole, you would find him attractive. He seems to be content with your answer as he begins to nod slowly.

“Alright,” he responds, “If you eventually need help though, you have an abundance of students who would be willing to work with you. Great art doesn’t have to be born out of loneliness.”

You nearly snicker. The funny thing about artists is that we are so narcissistic, we can’t even see what we’re saying is just a crock of horse shit. You decide to leave the conversation at that, bidding Seokjin a simple goodbye and a wishful weekend. You pick your bag up off the ground, fishing your phone out of it quickly, leaving Seokjin’s office in a rush. You had dinner plans and you weren’t sure how much time you now had to get ready.

You’re scrolling through your messages to recall the exact time you were supposed to be there when suddenly you’re bumping—no crashing—into someone—again! You’ve let out a yelp and a curse word you shouldn’t repeat when you hear your poor phone collide with the floor. Luckily you managed to catch yourself against the wall as your heart beats with fight or flight adrenaline.

“Shit,” someone mutters and when you finally regain your orientation, you instantly recognize the voice. You realize it’s Jeon Jungkook—that new student who bumped into you earlier. He’s sitting on the ground as if he’s just been hit by a bus. It makes you narrow your eyes—you’re not that dense you knocked this man to the ground. How dramatic can he be?

“Can we stop meeting like this?” You say as you reach down for your phone. You hope and pray there aren’t any cracks. When you turn it over, you let out a relieved sigh when the screen is unharmed.

“That was totally your fault that time,” Jungkook pushes himself off the ground, fluffing up his dark hair some. Once he stands fully in front of you, you are now getting an essence of how big he is. He’s average height at most, but from your stature, you’re having to still look up at him.

“How was that my fault?” You press, taking a step away from him to give you space.

“Maybe you shouldn’t walk around with your head in that thing?” He motions to your phone with his eyebrows. His eyes are wide and doe like, his lips a little thin with a piercing on the right side, and a nose on the bigger side. You’ve always liked big noses. You normally wouldn't describe men this way, but he’s genuinely pretty. If he wasn’t standing right here, you’d blush a little.

“Maybe you shouldn’t sprint around this place like you’re being chased by a serial killer,” you argue back, your phone now buzzing in your hand.

This Jungkook guy laughs a bit, a soft smile growing on his face, “I’m Jungkook,” he says matter-of-factly.

“And I’m running late,” you point to your continually buzzing phone. You can tell it’s not the answer he wants, but you walk away before he can get that answer. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you walk away to answer the phone. You can feel his eyes still on you and his scent fulfilling your nose. It smells clean, musky, and like amber. It smells dangerous.

⏤

Carbone was easily one of the best spots in the city. The Italian cuisine was to-die for and with the way your stomach was growling—the thought of their vodka sauce penne was literally making you horny. In record time, you managed to rush home and throw yourself together a little more decently. Your hair was pretty greasy so you ended up throwing it up into a clip hoping that no one would notice. You’re playing with your so-called slut strands aimlessly as you stand outside of the restaurant waiting on your company. It isn’t much longer until you hear your named being called a little ways away. You look up from your phone, a smile beginning to grow on your face.

“Hey babe,” your smile only grows as your boyfriend approaches you. He himself begins to smile as he fully approaches you, engulfing you into a large bear hug.

“I missed you,” he breathes heavily into your neck before he pulls away, “You look nice,” he holds both of your hands and looks down your frame. You glance down at your simple tank and loose-navy trousers. The navy somewhat clashes with his black suit, but it didn’t bother you none.

“Thank you, missed you too,” you respond, “Shall we?”

He nods once, giving you a look of longing before pulling you inside behind him.

“Reservations for Kim Taehyung,” he smiles charmingly to the hostess. She seems awestricken by him as she fumbles around with the menus behind the podium. Once she realizes—or chooses to notice—you standing close with Taehyung, hand in his, her gaze immediately drops to her feet as she walks the two of you to the table. It’s a smaller two-seated table outside on their exquisite patio, twinkle lights tastefully lighting up around you and a small candle lit between you two. It’s still not quite spring so they have some outdoor space heaters which is nice on your exposed arms. The slight chill doesn’t bother you though. Your only focus is on Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung. How could you even describe Kim Taehyung?

As the two of you sit here now, him 27, you 24, you can’t believe how long it’s already been. You were naive and 20 when you first crossed paths with Taehyung. A mutual friend introduced the two of you at another friend’s birthday at the time. It was at some swanky bar in the fanciest part of the city and to your broke, aspiring starving artist kind; it seemed magical.

There was an immediate attraction to each other that both of you seemed to recognize. His strong features and sexy smirk had you pulled in the moment he opened his mouth. His looks were one thing, but once you got to know him for him, you were sure you had found your soulmate. He was charming, funny, smart, and a hell of a lot different than you. But you liked that. You had been around the mismatched artist-type your entire life—you craved something different. And he gave you that every time, even now 4 years later.

“How was your day?” You’re the one to ask first as the waitress ends up pouring out glasses of Chardonnay for the both of you. Taehyung always orders a bottle, citing glasses were the cheap way out.

He takes a sip before he speaks, “Pretty good. I think we’re finally getting close to a deal on my biggest client which will leave me a lot less stressful once that sorts itself out.”

Taehyung works in finance—specifically in private equity. When the two of you first met, he was a first-year hustling investment banker who worked long hours with high compensation for a 23 year old. Now, he works a little less hours with even higher compensation. One way that you two are similar is that you both like chaos—chaos that just manifests itself into different ways. Chaos for you comes in forms of paint, sketches, and a messy workspace. Chaos for Taehyung is working long, demanding hours, numbers, and making 50 year olds seem less experienced than him.

“You made it out of the office before seven tonight, that’s always a good thing,” you take a sip of your wine, hiding the scrunch on your face as best as you can. This Chardonnay was particularly dry and not quite what you thought you needed. A martini sounds real good about now.

“How was your Friday babe?” He asks with genuine curiosity. If there was one flaw about you is that whenever Taehyung would go off the deep end in explaining his private equity and venture capital deals, you somewhat zoned out. Him on the other hand, always seemed intrigued about your endeavors as a struggling artists. Perhaps you should work on your listening skills now that you think about it.

You’re about to answer until the waitress comes back to take your orders. You settle on the vodka penne, Taehyung gets cacio-e-pepe, and you two get a Caesar to split. Before you realize it, you’re adding in a martini to the bill. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you as the waitress leaves.

“Bad day?” He asks.

You have to laugh, leaning back into your seat some. “It was fine, it’s just,” you pause somewhat frustrated now that you’ve had a couple hours to marinate Seokjin’s words.

“Seokjin has just been hard on me lately and it’s kind of exhausting,” you breathe out heavily.

“Isn’t he always an asshole?” He raises a brow, leaning back in his seat to match your stance. His eyes don’t leave you as you command his full attention.

You half-laugh again, “It’s like he thinks I can just shit out new pieces every week. It’s not like every morning I wake up with a new idea that's riveting enough to turn into something.”

“I’m sure you’ve produced good things recently—you’re too hard on yourself Y/N,” he says, you assume trying to comfort or validate you in someway. It doesn’t work.

“What you think is good, isn’t what I, or Seokjin, or art critics may think is good,” you say stubbornly.

“Babe you really shouldn’t care about what those people think,” he says just as your martini arrives. You take quite a big gulp, a chill running down your spine. But it’s good, and needed.

“That’s easy for you to say.”

You don’t expect Taehyung to understand your perception of what you’ve always thought you career would be. Taehyung’s career was set for him the moment he walked across the graduation stage. There need be no inspiration or motivation for the work he does. He shows up, gets tasks and deals to negotiate, plugs and chugs numbers, and does it all over again. There’s no downtime in his field.

When it comes to art—there’s too much downtime. Too much time to overthink and drown into your thoughts. It’s easy to become miserable and wallow in self-pity as an artist. You don’t know why or where this rut came from, but you hoped that something would inspire you fast. Seokjin was right—you really didn’t have much time to begin putting together your exhibition pieces.

“I deal with people all the time who hate me and my colleagues—that doesn’t mean I don’t show up for the meetings. You’re going to deal with people who don’t like you but you still gotta get your shit done either way,” he shrugs and it’s like he caught what he said just in time before you could snap back at him—“Baby you know that’s not what I mean,” he suddenly leans forward and grabs one of your hands on the table.

You try to get past his last comment—as if he was implying you weren’t doing your job—relaxing as soon as his warm touch gets to you.

Perhaps one of the bigger flaws in your relationship with Taehyung is that sometimes he just doesn't get it. He can get very wrapped up into his world, unable to find a place of empathy for you and your craft. Sometimes, it feels like you're standing in a crowded room screaming yet no one turns around to see where the ruckus is coming from.

“I know,” you answer simply and luckily, your dinner arrives cutting the conversation at that.

As you two eat together, catching up on other mindless topics, and enjoying each other’s company, it makes your heart yearn for so much more with him. You’ve only had one serious boyfriend before Taehyung in high school which probably doesn’t even count at this point and only dating a couple guys casually before you ended up meeting the man across the table. He was edging 30, you nearing 25. You glance down at your ring finger, wanting nothing more than truly make that next step in your relationship. You two had talked about it many times and you were sure he wanted to marry you—you just didn’t know what he was waiting on.

Thankfully, you’re feeling a little less anxious now that you’ve ate a good meal and had some alcohol—not enough to where you’re drunk—but enough to feel a little buzz. After Taehyung’s paid (you’ve run your time trying to pay—also given Taehyung’s salary versus yours, it was sort of a given who would pay at fancy restaurants).

The two of you are walking around the semi-hustling streets, hand in hand as you’re making way back to his apartment. Friday’s were routine the two of you. Given his hectic schedule, the weekends are where you two found solace. There was the occasional mid-week lunch if he was on your side of the city where the university was, but Friday’s had been particular your days for years now. You loved your little routine together.

Taehyung has managed to pull you towards the city’s main river to a popular tourist watch site. On the weekends, there were the occasional events and water shows. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights, but there are a couple street vendors set up around the area. From the corner of your eye, you spot a vendor selling cotton candy and before Taehyung can stop you, you’re pulling him to the sweet treat. You settle on sharing a stick of the pink and cottony sugar as you take a sit down on the side of the river, trying to keep some distance from others.

You sit on the step below Taehyung, settling between his legs as you eat the candy in a comfortable silence. He offers you the last little piece but you shake your head, leaning back into his chest more. He glad eats it and then wraps his arms around your front, instantly warming you from the outside in.

“You chilly babe?” He asks and you shrug a little. You were a little chilly now, but he was keeping you warm enough. Given how he just knows you though, he ends up shrugging off his perfectly tailored suit jacket and draping it over your front. You give him a small kiss beneath his chin as a thank you.

“This is nice,” you say lowly, the sound of the running river and carb-loaded tummy making you a little sleepy.

“Mhm,” he agrees, settling his chin on top of your head, “You know I’ve been thinking recently..”

Thought he can’t see your face from this angle, your eyes slightly widen and your heart rate picks up significantly. Unsure of what to say, you make a noise that resembles a “hm?” Could it be?

“I know that both of our leases are ending soon,” he pauses, leaning back some. You take it to turn your body some to face him, a soft expression crossing your features. “I was thinking we should move in together.”

While your heart semi-strains painfully given it’s not what you thought he was going to say. But hey—he wants to live together! That’s the second biggest step before getting engaged, right?

“You want to live together?” You repeat his statement to make sure you heard it clearly.

He gives you a small smirk, “Isn’t that what I just said?” He giggles, “I’d just figured we already stay at each others places on the weekends… and if we lived together we would definitely see each other more often.”

He’s right. You think about waking up and going to bed with Taehyung everyday. You think about making coffee for each other and eating dinner together every night. You think about lazy morning-before-work sex and heavy, steamy sex in a shared bathroom. It seems perfect. You’re nodding before you even say yes.

“Yes, yes, of course!” You say enthusiastically, throwing your arms around him awkwardly. He laughs in content, holding you close as you both continue to watch the river. While it’s not what you were expecting, perhaps it was the final stepping stone until the relationship was to be taken further.

⏤

“I feel like tangerine is the superior shade of orange, right?”

You laugh a little as you take a step back from the canvas, looking over your shoulder to meet Sana’s gaze. She’s got a serious expression crossing her brows as she inspects your canvas and the orange color you’ve just slapped onto it.

“I prefer marmalade,” you respond sarcastically with a half-smile, justifying your color choice on the canvas. She tilts her head slightly, sitting back in the barstool type chair she’s in. She was much more the charming artist type than you. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons you two got along so well—you couldn’t be anything more than polar opposites. You were laid back and didn’t think about your work too much, whereas your best friend from undergrad went through every detail imaginable before her brush hit a canvas.

“I actually don’t give a shit about the orange,” she then says with a short laugh, “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You furrow your eyebrows, setting down your palette on the work table beside you. “What do you mean?”

She looks around your studio, the sun shining brightly thanks to the large windows on the back wall. You can tell she’s quickly inspecting every piece that you have finished up against the far wall opposite of you two. It’s only 3 pieces, but you can tell she’s about to rip them apart.

“It’s just,” she pauses to meet your gaze again, "I feel like there's no emotion in these pieces, it's all just the same in different fonts...”

You have a sudden open pit in your stomach, getting flashbacks from being in Seokjin’s office last week. You knew that she meant well—but like you said, she was the much more serious art type. She could read art better than anyone else you knew and to hear those words from her? It stung.

“Because there isn't," you chuckle, "I’m just in a funk,” you say, not even attempting to try to argue with her. For the past couple months, every stroke of your brushes have felt like a chore. Every sketch of a pencil felt like someone had a gun to your head, threatening you to draw or otherwise the trigger would be pulled.

“Isn’t your exhibition soon?,” she asks it like a warning but you’ve already heard that siren. “Is everything good with you?”

“I’m fine,” you say straight-lipped, “Just uninspired.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “Taehyung not dicking you down right?”

You roll your eyes, a small laugh emitting from you, “Trust me, that’s not the problem.”

Taehyung was great in bed—a gentle lover with rough hands. It would probably surprise people to know that you were the more dominant one in the bedroom.

She looks as if she doesn’t believe you, but she lets it slide knowing your sex life is none of her business.

“And he still hasn’t put a ring on it?” She glances down at your hands, which you shyly shove into the pockets of your jeans.

“You'd be the first to know Sana," you tell her pointedly, "Also what's the rush?” you say, a half lie on your part. Maybe no rush on his part, but you were feening for that commitment from Taehyung. “He actually wants us to find a place together.” You make sure to add, given it makes your heart feel a little better.

“Hm,” she pauses and you give her an odd look.

"What's that for?" you ask her, crossing your arms over your chest.

She shakes her head, "I just want you to be happy Y/N... I'm sure moving in together will be exciting," you can tell there's something else she's not saying. You can probably guess as to what she wants to say but you push it from your mind. God forbid she’s been the one on the other end of your drunken-crying nights, saying how much you wanted to spend more time with him and marry him. “Are you excited?”

You nod before you speak, “Of course,” you say, “I’ll just be happy to spend more time with him.”

“I can’t believe he’s still in his soulless finance grind after all these years,” she exhales heavily with a shake of her head. You honestly couldn’t believe it either—but he loved his work. Sometimes you’d argue more than he loved anything else—including you.

“Whatever makes him happy, makes me happy,” is what you leave it at. You didn’t want to have the same conversation with her again.

“Well,” she pauses, “I gotta run, but enjoy your lunch,” she motions to the bag of food she so graciously brought you on her own lunch break. Given she works at an art studio in the city as an art preserver, her hours are much more flexible than yours.

“Thank you,” you give her a quick hug, inhaling her sweet, floral scent. She’s always had that sort of nostalgic smell to her. One of those smells that you can’t pinpoint where you’ve smelt it before, but it makes you smile. Perhaps it just reminds me of sleepless nights in the dorm you two shared freshman year, watching endless drama's and Magic Mike nights.

“Are you gonna come to dinner with everyone tomorrow?”

“I’ll try to make it,” you answer, “Depends how long I’m stuck here,” you speak with your arms in reference to your working studio.

“You better be there,” she warns, “You haven’t seen Jimin and everyone in forever.”

“I’ll try,” you repeat with a genuine smile, “Thanks for lunch again.”

She gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Of course. Text me if you need anything,”

You watch her frame as she walks out of your studio, your shoulders sinking in relief. You loved Sana, you really did, but the last thing you need is another person down your throat about your art. You were in a stupid, uninspired, funk but it will eventually go away. Even if you have to claw your way to finishing pieces for the exhibit—they will get done. You weren’t the type to just give up and throw in the towel.

You haven’t even realized you’ve completely zoned out until you hear footsteps coming into your studio. When you fixate on who is hesitantly standing toward the door, a confused expression crosses your face.

“Jungkook?”

“I’m late?” He jokes, retorting your smart ass comment from the other day. You can’t help but laugh some as he approaches you. He’s curiously looking around your working space with wide doe eyes. “The lighting is great in here,” he comments.

“I held Seokijn at gunpoint for this room,” you attempt to make a joke. He giggles so you’re satisfied. You’ve only been in class with him once since his first day last week. From what you’ve distantly observed about this Jungkook guy, it’s that he’s quiet and reserved, but quite talented. Seokjin must be feeling very sorry for you given he hasn’t needed you in class the past few days. That, or he’s just pissed that you haven’t done shit and it’s him telling you to get the hint.

“Everything good?” You ask him to break the silence, trying to be a “teacherly” as you could. Perhaps he had a question that Seokjin wasn’t available to answer. Or needed to know where certain pigments were. Or just needed a second opinion on a piece he’s started. Jungkook has made his way over to you, leaning at the table where Sana was just sat.

“Seokjin needs you to work the afternoon class by yourself,” he explains and you’re a little confused.

“Okay…?” You trail off, looking at him curiously. He’s dressed in a large short sleeve shirt, baggy jeans, and a slick pair of Nike’s. As he crosses his arms over his chest, you take quick notice of an array of tattoos covering his right forearm. It makes something deep within you stir.

“Is he busy? Did he send you to tell me or something?” You ask.

He’s staring at you intently with purpose. You’re suddenly insecure under his gaze, knowing you cannot possibly look put together with your hair thrown up and smudged glasses.

“I volunteered,” he shrugged, his eyes looking over to the current painting you’re working on. It’s not too large of a canvas, so it sits on your large easel with ease. His words make you stir again. “This is a nice color,” he compliments.

You laugh out of your nose, “It’s shit.”

You can feel his eyes on your profile as you look at the painting. The orange you’ve laid down is only the base color and you don’t even know what you’re going to turn it into.

“Do you specialize in realism?” He asks you, again with a burning curiosity in his tone. This is the most you’ve heard him speak since he’s showed up. His voice is soft and smooth like honey, unlike Taehyung’s where—

“Yes,” you cut your thoughts off.

“Me too,” he responds as your gaze meets his. You give him a small smile in unity. You’ve nearly forgotten lunch that Sana has brought you until a grumble goes through your stomach. You cross your arms over your stomach, feeling embarrassed under his gaze.

“See you this afternoon?” He says, getting the signal for him to let you have your lunch break.

“Will do,” you nod, “Thanks for letting me know.”

He pushes off the table, “Of course.”

His gaze breaks from yours as he walks away from you and your workspace. Just as he is about to walk out, you stop him.

“It’s Y/N by the way,” you call out formally. He stops in his tracks, halfway turning to you again with a subtle smirk on his face.

“I know.” And like that, he’s left. Something even deeper inside you not only stirs, but intensely electrifies you. You’re devouring your salad before you can let any other thoughts consume your brain.

⏤

“Cheers!” Jimin is smiling eagerly as you all hold your shot glasses up in the center of the table. You all down, up, down the shots of soju before you quickly tip them back. It burns going down your throat, but it felt too good. Sana was right—it had been way too long since you’ve been able to catch up with everyone. Sana sits to your left, Jimin across from you, Hoseok to your right, Jennie beside Jimin, and Namjoon at the head of the table.

“Never gets easier,” Hoseok makes a face as he quickly takes a sip of his soda for a chaser. You tease him by bumping his side, going back to eating the meat in front of you. Jimin was at the helm of cooking the meats and as always, did a fabulous job.

The Korean BBQ place wasn’t too far from your studio apartment and the university. It was yummy, cheap, and some of your friend’s favorite. It was a no brainer for all of you to meet up here after a long day. Thankfully you were able to finish your work early today, but only because once again, nothing of substance was spawning on your canvas.

“Namjoon,” Sana says, “When are you leaving for New York?”

“Next week,” he says as he sips on his light colored beer.

“Oh! Taehyung’s going this weekend,” you add into the conversation.

“Work trip?” He asks you, nodding in confirmation. It wasn’t anything new—Taehyung made bi-monthly trips to Wall Street. “If he’s staying long enough we’ll have to get a beer together,” he says.

“I’ll ask him for you,” you smile, though it fades away quickly. You felt that twang in your chest when you thought about Taehyung leaving for work trips. Not because you didn’t trust him—you just missed him. Then again, he’s building a life of security for the two of you, so you couldn’t blame him too much.

“How’s the apprenticeship going Y/N?” Jennie asks you as the others talk amongst themselves.

“It’s going,” you try to sound light-hearted and that it’s actually not killing you. “I’m done after this semester,” you add.

She nods—Jennie worked in social media for a fashion company. She was creative for sure—but not to the level of you and Sana. The three of you had known each other the longest, the other three boys tagging along as the college years went by.

“Are you going to free-lance after?” She asks. As much as you know she doesn’t mean harm—any question about the future makes you anxious. You had no idea what you were planning on doing after your apprenticeship was up. You were just hoping working under Kim Seokjin would stick out enough on your resume that something would fall into your lap. With your parents consistently down your throat, something had to fall into your lap. Hell, you would even pull the nepotism card if you had to.

“We’ll see,” you shrug as you continue to eat your food. You were feeling a little bit of a buzz at this point and you knew that you should probably slow down on the drinks.

The six of you all continue talking amongst yourselves aimlessly. You find yourself zoning in and out as you continue to think about Seokjin, your art, Taehyung, moving in together—your brain was cloudy and you felt stuffy. Something’s gotta give soon or you were sure you were going to explode. You didn’t understand—you have a good life, a good boyfriend, a talent not many people possess, fun friends—you didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You end up excusing yourself, the alcohol inside you making you need some some fresh air. You try to ignore everyone’s concerned glances coming your way as you stand. You take your phone and head towards the front door. As you push the door open, the chilly spring air feels divine on your skin.

Deciding to get out of sight of your friends given the large glass windows, you make your way to the side of the restaurant, where an alley separates it from another small business. Luckily the area was safe, with no alley being too dimly lit to make you uncomfortable.

As you round the corner, the smell of cigarettes fill your nostrils and you’re stopping dead in your tracks. Leaned up against the side of the restaurant, scrolling through a phone, and a cigarette hanging from their lips—is Jeon Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. He quickly responds by looking up from his device, looking somewhat startled. He looks panicked as he quickly removes the cigarette from his mouth, about to let it drop to the ground before he drops it.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” you shake your head as you slowly step towards him, “My mom smokes when she paints.”

He raises his eyebrows at you slowly putting the cigarette back between his lips, “Is she an artist too?”

He’s wearing slim-fitted jeans and a multiple colored pullover, with a prominent shade of orange through the middle. It reminds you of the conversation you had with Sana yesterday. His hair is tousled a little, but still fairly straight and dark. He plays with his lip ring until you answer him.

“Both my parents are,” you respond, settling against the building opposite of him. He’s already got a few inches on you, but with his fancy tennis shoes, it gives him even more height.

“That’s gotta be rough,” he laughs while blowing out smoke away from your direction.

You laugh with him, settling for a short nod, “What about your parents?”

He hesitates before taking another drag, “My dad is in banking, my mom stays at home.” While he’s answered your question, he doesn’t seem enthusiastic about it. You wonder what type of banking his father is into, so you ask him.

“Investment and private banking,” is what he says. Your boyfriend’s face flashes into your head, but for whatever reason, you don’t mention him to Jungkook. He’s practically your student—he doesn’t have to know every detail about your life.

“Does he enjoy it?”

He quickly shakes his head, “He’s been miserable for as long as I can remember, my mom even more so,” he says it like it’s a joke, but it makes something in your chest squeezes tightly, your mouth dries up, and your hands go clammy. Though he doesn’t voice it, he senses a demeanor change so he offers you a drag from his cigarette.

You don’t hesitate to say yes as he passes you the little nicotine stick. Your fingers brush against his when he passes it off to you. Again, you have to ignore whatever is stirring deep within you. As you inhale the smoke, your head buzzes even further, settling your worries the tiniest bit. There’s no way that would become you and Taehyung. No way.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Meeting some friends for drinks,” he explains, “But everyone’s late, as usual,” he laughs.

“I hate when people are late,” you mutter, taking another drag of the cigarette. Jungkook agrees with you, asking what you’re doing here. “I’m with a few friends, we haven’t all been able to see each other much recently.”

You reach out to give him back his cigarette but he shakes his head, “It’s yours,” his eyes have a glimmer in them that’s innocent but provocative all at the same time.

“Thanks,” you say and nearly rolling your eyes at how much you probably look like your mother right now. You wouldn’t really take that as a compliment.

“You did well teaching yesterday,” he completely does a 180 on the subject, but the praise makes you smile at him. Positive reinforcement—works every time.

You thank him again, “I was actually pretty nervous.”

“I don’t think any of us would have thought that,” he pauses, examining your face closely, “Have you thought about teaching when you’re done under Seokjin?”

You shake your head, “Not really,” the cigarette is down to the butt so you throw it out, stepping on it with your white tennis shoe.

“Maybe you should,” he says it with a genuine tone it almost makes you think it’s something you should consider.

“I feel like this is you trying to take my job,” you raise your eyebrow at him and he only smirks through his laugh. Under the dim lighting, it really does excentuate how attractive he is.

“Is it that obvious?” He cocks his head to the side quickly, glancing down your front in the process. You know absolutely nothing about this man except his dad is an investment banker and he’s Seokjin’s student. Despite that, you feel too comfortable with him and you know you shouldn’t. Goddamn; you were sure you were losing it at this point.

You’re about to say something else before your phone vibrates continuously in your back pocket. You pull it out of your trousers, cursing under your breath when you see Sana’s name pull up on the screen.

“Hey! Are you still here?” You can tell she’s still inside the restaurant given the commotion in the back. She also sounds even more drunk than when you left her. As much as you love your friends, you knew that going back inside was not what you needed. Jungkook watches you intensely, but you can’t keep his gaze continuously.

“I uh,” you pause trying to think on your feet, “I actually wasn’t feeling too well so I ended up leaving.. would you kill me if I just sent you a Venmo for my food?”

“Oh! Are you okay?! Of course I don’t care! Did you get a ride home?”

You answer all of her questions in order quickly, wanting to get off the phone before she actually realized you were still there, just standing outside in the alley with your “student.”

“Text me when you make it home!” Is the last thing she says.

After you hang up, Jungkook is still looking at you curiously.

“Ditching you friends?”

“My social meter has about run out… I need to head home anyways,” you trail off, leaning back against the wall behind you.

“Do you live around here?” He mirrors your actions, leaning back and watching you. His gaze follows you like the Mona Lisa. You settle with the fact you don’t mind. His eyes look like they hold stars and you’ve always liked stargazing.

“Yeah, not too far from here,” you say.

“I’ll walk you home then.”

You furrow your eyebrows, protesting heavily, “No, no it’s all good I promise! Your friends are waiting for you.”

He’s suddenly giving you a smile where one side of his lips tug upwards before he’s biting his lip ring again. You don’t know why but you like that too.

“Lucky for you, my social meter has run out too.”

⏤

You know that having Jungkook walk you home would probably look extremely bad to someone if they knew the situation. Jeon Jungkook, senior art student for Kim Seokjin, and you, apprentice for Kim Seokjin, walking you home alone on a Thursday evening. It wasn’t that you thought he was attractive that it would look bad—that could be kept secret—more so just the power dynamic may look bad. The two of you have been talking aimlessly about random things, nothing too deep, until he says—

“How’d you get into art?” He asks as he walks beside you, about 6 inches separating you two. “I know you said your parents were artists, but why’d you follow the same path?”

It’s a question you’ve pondered yourself many times as of recent. You wonder if Jeon Jungkook can read your mind.

“I guess it’s just that,” you half-laugh, “It’s just something I naturally picked up so young and as I got older I just wanted to learn more mediums, create more, perfect the craft…” you trail off, still unsure if you’ve answered his question. He looks at you as you walk, but you’re looking forward so you don’t notice.

“What did you start with?” You know exactly what he means.

“Well like most kids I started with crayons and watercolor,” you pause and he nods in agreement, “Everything really changed for me though when I started doing realism through pencil and charcoal work when I was like twelve, which eventually moved on to painting.”

He hums like he finds this information fascinating. Even if he doesn’t, it makes you feel like you’re being heard. It’s hard for non-art friends to understand the process of moving from one thing to the next, your brain constantly trying to find something new to work with.

“Funny, you and I must have been on parallel paths,” he says it like its a joke and you end up smiling.

“Where are you from?” You turn your head up to ask him. You find his eyes already looking at you.

“Busan, just by the sea.”

“And that’s where our paths are different,” you’re nudging his arm with your elbow before you realize it and you immediately regret it, pulling away quickly. It’s a habit you have when you’re talking to someone you’re comfortable with, specifically Taehyung.

"Did you move here just for school then?" you ask him curiously.

He shakes his head, "No my family and I moved here when I was quite young, due to my dad's job," he explains.

"What do your parents think about you being an artist?"

The older you got, the less of a choice you felt like you had in terms of your career and path with your parents consistently down your throat. You'd love to know what it was like to actually choose this path of constant praise and validation.

"My mom is very easy going... she doesn't have much of an opinion about it," he pauses, moving closer to you slightly to dodge a pothole, "It's definitely not what my father would have chosen for me, but since my older brother went to school for business, I think it's lessened the blow for me," he laughs.

You decide right here that you think Jungkook's smile is probably the most beautiful you've ever seen. You don't even realize how long you've been staring at him in silence until his eyes meet yours again.

You clear your throat, “You really didn’t have to walk me home.”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pullover, “It’s no big deal, I don’t live too far from here either.”

“Do you live alone?” You don’t know why you’re asking such personal questions.

“Yeah, just got my own place actually..” He says it with a faint smile. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” not for long. But again, you don’t mention it.

“I’ll have to come see it one day,” you’re positive he’s not even sure what he’s said. Given how he said it so nonchalantly and natural though, tells you differently. You’re stunned to speak for a moment, until you finally find your voice that comes through like a weakened child.

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate given my relationship to you,” you try to make your answer seem cool and collected. You think it comes across this way and you hope he thinks it came across that way.

“Aren’t we friends?” He muses, something hidden behind his tone.

“Are we?” You retort. What do you mean, is his next question. “We’ve just met as of last week and I don’t know much about you…”

Again, he looks at you cheekily as you turn left down the street that leads to your apartment complex.

“That can be easily changed.”

At this point, you’re sure he’s flirting with you. Flirting with his goddamn teaching apprentice assistant. You have to shoot it down—fast. You don’t like how the idea of another man flirting with you makes you feel—mainly because it’s not a negative feeling.

“I’m just up here,” you motion toward the large complex you live in. It’s a nice, private community that luckily you can afford on your apprenticeship salary. Your parents will help you from time to time which is something you can’t complain about, but for the most part, it’s just you and your gray tabby—Sushi.

“Thanks for walking me home again,” is what you say as he leads you up to the main entrance.

“No problem,” he responds as he stops walking as you continue forward up the short set of stairs. You turn around, looking down at him two steps up from him. The wind is blowing some, his hair looking soft and touchable. Tuggable, even.

“Sorry if I took you from your friends,” you don’t know why but you can’t find it in yourself to walk away from him just yet. You’re unsure the last time a stranger was this nice to you. Despite your first two crashing meetings, Jeon Jungkook seems like a genuine soul.

“Back at you,” he nods before his chest rises slowly, his gaze not leaving yours, “I enjoyed this more.”

A faint smile spreads across your lips, unable to hide it. You don’t even want to hide it. He’s been so nice to you that it makes you feel giddy on the inside. It’s reminiscent of when you had your first date with Taehyung. The single thought of him, drains all emotion from your face when you realize what you’ve just thought.

You need to leave.

“I’ll see you around,” you finally murk up the courage to dissolve this evening, “Thank you again, Jungkook.”

He holds your gaze, a glimmer in his eyes as they reflect in the street light. Definitely looks like stars.

“Anytime.”

⏤

Unlike most Fridays, this one had your mood shifted in the dumps. Straying from your normal routine, Taehyung’s flight for New York was leaving this evening. You hadn’t even seen him since last weekend, but you tried your well not to dwell too much. This was just another part of your routine together. He would be back before you knew it.

You are currently sat with a few of the students outside on a coffee break of your own, them on lunch break. There was a large section of the rooftop that was flat with tables and extravagant plants along the sides of the roof. It was probably the most peaceful and serene part of this entire side of the university.

You’re sat with Jisoo, Lisa, Yugyeom, and Jungkook around a circular table. The weather is getting so nice and the sun’s vitamin D feels too good against your skin. You’re sat sideways in the chair, your legs hanging off one side of armrests, an iced coffee balancing in your lap. Despite you being older than all the students here, a one year difference truly isn’t anything. Sometimes you still felt like you were in university when hanging out with all of them.

“How’s your exhibition pieces going Y/N?” Yugyeom is the one who asks the question. You’ve taken notice him and Jungkook have become good buddies in a short amount of time. You can feel the latter’s eyes on you, but you intentionally ignore him.

“Awful,” you don’t even attempt to sugar coat it. You know that they’ve probably heard Seokjin’s scoldings recently.

“Really? But your winter exhibition pieces were so good,” Lisa pipes in. Your stomach sinks and you wish you could curl into yourself even more.

“I thought so too,” Jungkook’s voice suddenly appears and you turn your gaze to him. He’s sat to your left, but Jisoo is in between you two.

“How’d you see them?” You don’t mean it to come off harsh, but given he’s transferred here in the middle of the semester, there’s no way he could have seen them.

“I was in Park Kihyun’s department before I switched to Seokjin’s,” he says, leaning back into his chair as he sips on what looks to be banana milk. Today he’s wearing an all black ensemble of a black t-shirt and baggy black sweatpants.

You make a noise of understanding. That makes much more sense. Park Kihyun was another highly respected artist and professor at the university. Probably even more than Kim Seokjin. He was head of the honors department of the university which is a cult of its own. You were talented as hell, but not even Kihyun would consider you for the honors program, let alone an apprenticeship. He was by far the hardest professor you ever, ever had which is why you only took one class from him. You learned your lesson fast. Though it’s quite impressive to hear Jungkook was in his department. You wonder why he switched, but you probably already know too much about Jungkook, so you leave it.

“I’m sure everything will work out Y/N,” Lisa gives you a reassuring smile from across the table.

“It’s just a funk, I’ll break out of it,” you shrug your shoulders. At this point, you’re hoping if you say it out loud enough, that the funk will indeed be broken.

More talk occurs between everyone, though Jungkook doesn’t say much. When he does speak, he contributes a funny joke here and there. He’s deliberate with what he says and you understand that. One of your better traits is that you don’t act out of pure emotion. You want what you say to matter and no get lost in translation. Perhaps another parallel between you and Jungkook.

“Y/N!” Someone bellows from behind you, “You’ve got a visitor!”

Your eyebrows furrow as you swing your legs down, to turn around to see who is your so-called visitor. You put a hand up above your brows, to close out the sun. When your vision focuses, your heart swells at the sight. It also lurches with anxiety.

“Taehyung?” You ask him as he’s approaching you with a bag of food from what looks to be your favorite sushi restaurant down the street, “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

You stand to meet him once he approaches the table. You can feel everyone’s eyes burning holes in you. Everyone here knows you have a boyfriend, having seen Taehyung many times. All except one.

“I wanted to surprise you before I left,” he sets your food down on the table before waving to everyone, “Hey guys.”

Everyone doesn’t miss a beat in greeting Taehyung before he turns back to you, pulling you in for a hug. He places a kiss on your temple gently just as you meet Jungkook’s eyes from your stance. He watches you curiously before they flick to Taehyung, his tongue playing with his lip ring.

“My coworkers and I decided to get lunch on this side of town and I wanted to bring you some,” he says while looking down at you. Of course he’s dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit and shined shoes, his hair a little slicked back today. You would love nothing more than to hop onto a plane with him to NYC, but unfortunately investment bankers don’t get plus ones on business trips.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you’re speaking in a lower register, hoping that your lunch group’s own conversations drown out yours.

“I wanted to,” he smiles, one hand squeezing your waist in reassurance, “Listen um, my trip may be a little longer than I expected,” his voice is low and deep, hesitant even.

Your heart feels like it clenches in your chest and you’re sure whatever color was in your face is gone. So this is why he wanted to come see you.

“How much longer?” You whisper, trying to keep your composure. You’re sure you can feel a certain someone’s eyes on you, but you can’t look at anyone but Taehyung.

“Maybe two weeks, max,” he says quickly and trying to remove any doubts from you. You look down at your feet for a split second before you glance back up.

“That’s okay,” you grimace, knowing you can’t control it so why is there reason to be upset? “Namjoon’s gonna be there… you guys should meet up.”

He nods with a small smile, his eyes searching yours deeply. He knows you and he knows that you’re not happy right now, but Taehyung had no choice. Work calls and work calls hard and fast. You both knew that. He gives you another temple kiss, this one a little longing.

“I love you,” he says, giving you a hug. You don’t even care to be embarrassed of PDA in front of the others. This was your boyfriend of years—you could hug him in public if you wanted.

“I love you too,” you pause, “Have a safe flight.”

Taehyung speaks to the rest of the gang for a couple moments. He’s only asking how everyone is since he recognizes everyone, even if he can’t remember everyone’s names exactly.

“I don’t think we’ve met?” Taehyung questions the dark haired boy a couple feet from him.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says, his voice slightly cold, “I just transferred into this department.”

You watch the interaction carefully, your palms sweaty and your heart rate up. You can’t pinpoint why you feel nervous like this in front of Jungkook. More specifically, in front of Jungkook with Taehyung right here. You were sure if Taehyung knew Jungkook walked you home last night he would have been thankful, but another part of you thinks it would have made him pissed, given you weren’t with him at the restaurant to begin with.

“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung smiles before glancing at his watch, “Alright, I gotta run babe. I’ll text you when I get to the airport.”

You tell him okay before he pecks you on the lips, leaving swiftly after. Jungkook looks away, a hand of his finding its way to the back of his head to scratch it awkwardly. You seem to be stuck in place, unable to sit back down until Lisa grabs your attention. As much as you appreciated the sushi, the last thing you felt like doing was eating.

As you sit down, Lisa asks if everything’s okay. You don’t miss a beat when you say yes, shrugging off your apparent sadness. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s briefly and you can tell he doesn’t see through your bullshit. You can’t tell if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’re grateful for it.

⏤

Your phone dings, prompting you to set down your pencil. You open the a text from Taehyung, smiling down at your phone. When you expand the photo, it’s a picture of Namjoon with Taehyung holding a beer out in front of him. It’s clearly from last night, given it is early morning in New York now, but still charms you. Namjoon worked as a writer for an art magazine—hence why he traveled the most of all of your friends. From Paris to NYC to Amsterdam—Namjoon has been there, done that.

You respond with a simple Miss you❤️

It’s been a few days since he left now and thankfully, he’s been pretty responsive and active on his phone. In the past, some of his work trips have been so busy there were days in which the two of you wouldn’t talk at all.

You stretch your legs out on the small sofa you have in your workspace. You grab your sketch book from your lap, tending back to what you were drawing. You liked doing pencil work in between the major pieces that would actually be submitted for galleries and exhibitions.

“You’re still here?”

A voice startles you, jumping slightly in your position. You crane your neck to the door where you find Jungkook has made his way into your space. Given you had the door open and Jungkook has become a good acquaintance to you, you don’t mind—but a knock would have been nice.

You glance down at your watch. It’s almost 8 PM, the light outside barely poking through the darkness now. You honestly hadn’t even noticed. You stayed cooped up in your work space pretty much all day.

“And you’re still here?” You retort, watching as Jungkook saunters over towards you. He looks tired, his bag looking a hundred pounds on his shoulder. You scrunch up your legs to give him a signal he can sit if he wants. You notice he has on black converse, matching the ones on your feet. You’ve always liked when guys wear converse, though you know Taehyung wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them.

He lets out a deep sigh as he plops down on the small couch. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a yawn. You have to fight your own as you watch him.

“Long day?” You ask him.

He nods slowly, “I was nearly finished with the piece I’ve been working on but I wasn’t paying attention and ended up streaking my canvas.” he explains.

"Aren't those just happy little accidents?" you quirk an eyebrow and he lets out a deep laugh.

“Seokjin made me start over, so no," when his eyes meet yours, you catch your breath.

You scrunch your nose up, “Sounds like Seokjin,” you give him half a laugh.

“Why are you still here?”

You look around the now dimly lit room, with a shrug. You picked up a paint brush for 10 minutes four hours ago. You had no idea why you were still here.

“Lost track of time,” you shut your sketch book, stretching your arms slightly. “Is anyone else here?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “Not that I’ve seen,” he pauses, “This feels like the start to a horror movie.”

You laugh with a sputtering of your lips. Jungkook made a good point. A late Wednesday evening, two people alone in a huge university hall, pretty much all lights killed, and quiet enough to hear a pin drop. It was the perfect storm.

“As long as we’re both virgins, we should be safe right?” You raise an eyebrow at him, a joking tone to your voice. Luckily, he understands your reference as he laughs with a side smirk.

“Totally,” he licks his lips which you watch shamelessly, but quickly looking away not wanting him to see you stare. “Need a walking buddy home?” Is his next question.

As much as you should refuse, given the time and proximity of your and Jungkook’s apartment from the school, it only makes sense. It’s not long after you’ve gathered your things that you and Jungkook are locking up your studio, headed towards the direction of your apartment.

The entire walk is peaceful and comfortable. You walk with your hands shoved into your sweatpants pockets, Jungkook mirroring you, keeping a good distance between you two. You talk about random things, with each conversation flowing easier than others. You feel as if Jungkook is quickly moving from student acquaintance to actual friend. You were friends with most of the people in the classes you assisted, but you had never interacted with them as much as you had Jungkook. He just always seemed to be there—though you didn’t mind his company at all.

You’re currently laughing at something he’s said about a childhood story about him and his brother. You now know the reason for the faint scar on the left side of cheek. You would have never taken Jungkook as a competitive person, but getting to know him a little more day by day, he most definitely is.

The two of you have almost made it to your apartment complex when sudden, heavy raindrops begin to fall from the sky.

“Shit,” you mutter as you two have taken brief cover under a business awning.

“C’mon,” Jungkook encourages with a short laugh, grabbing your forearm to pull you behind him. It’s hard to keep up with his quick steps, but you manage.

While you two ended up at your complex entrance faster than you would have at your previous pace—you both are still soaked. The rain has also chilled the air, sending a shiver down your spine. Jungkook is muttering something about how Busan has always had much better weather when you get a full look at him. His hair is wet and flat to his head, but he’s pushing his fringe back to expose his forehead. His white t-shirt sticks to his chest, his silver chain grabbing the light. You gulp, a familiar stir in your tummy.

“Do you want to come up and dry your things? Or a least grab an Uber or something to get to your place?” You’re mouth is offering the words before you can think about them. Fuck—that was stupid.

As Jungkook looks down at your frame, he’s contemplating your offer, but then says—“No, no it’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

You counter, “No please, I definitely have sweatshirts big enough for you.”

He looks back out at the rain that has only seemingly got worse. He lets out an exhale before nodding, thanking you in the process.

Once you cross the threshold of your apartment, you instantly feel warmer but also more claustrophobic. This had to have been a horrible mistake. Your apartment was your safe haven—with very few people ever getting the chance to see your space. Taehyung and Sana were the only regulars in your home. You’re hyper aware glancing around the kitchen room and living room area, thanking yourself for cleaning up last night. Jungkook has already witnessed how much of a mess your art is, the last thing you need is for him to think your home is a mess too.

You excuse yourself to retrieve a sweatshirt for him and a new t-shirt for you to throw on. After you change, you nearly stop in your tracks when Jungkook is pulling the wet t-shirt off his frame. His back is to you, but god—it’s a hot back. His frame isn’t that big, but he’s got defined muscles well, everywhere.

You approach him slowly, alerting him that you have a sweatshirt for him. The two of you trade items of clothing, gaze holding anywhere but him. Luckily for him, you pretty much only bought sweatshirts double your size, so the Nirvana sweatshirt fit over his frame nicely.

“Your place is nice,” he comments as you throw his t-shirt into your dryer.

“Thanks,” you give him a smile when you walk back into your kitchen. He’s sat at one of your barstools, watching your frame intently as you rummage through a cabinet above your microwave. Your eyes widen at the sight, stomach grumbling the process. You hadn’t ate in hours and you were sure you could eat a horse at this point.

“Do you want one?” You look over your shoulder as you stand on your tip-toes to pull down an instant ramen cup.

“Was my hunger that obvious?” He laughs and you roll your eyes, grabbing him a cup too. You whip up both of your instant ramens in less than 5 minutes, handing him a pair of chopsticks when you’re finished.

As you’re about to rip open the flavor packet and squeeze it in like your normally would, Jungkook’s method has you stopping in your tracks. He’s got the flavor packet carefully tucked between his teeth, a chopstick on either side of the packet pushing out every drop of the sauce you could possibly get.

“That’s fucking genius,” you marvel at him, mouth still slightly agape. “Did you come up with that?”

He laughs, his nose scrunching up in the process, “Probably not, but I’ll pretend I did just for that reaction.”

You ask him to help you, knowing that you will now be using this ramen hack till the day you die. He carefully tears a small rip the packet for you, telling you to take the corner between your teeth. You follow suit with the chopsticks and you’re simply amazed again as you watch the flavoring all dump into the noodles—none of it wasted.

He laughs at you as you continue to rave about the genius of this ramen hack, questioning whether or not Namjoon knows about it given he’s the smartest person you know—even though he has no idea who Namjoon is. Then suddenly, Jungkook jumps slightly in the barstool, looking down at his legs.

“You okay?” You ask with concern as you put your chopsticks down.

At Jungkook’s feet is a little grey tabby cat—a little chubby, but cute as hell—staring up at him as it rubs its head against his ankle.

“I see you have a cat,” he comments, looking down at it with an endearing expression.

“Oh! Yeah,” you pause, taking a couple steps around the kitchen island to see him, “His name is Sushi…” you trail off, not believing the sight in front of you, “And he seems to like you?”

“Hi Sushi,” he says with a mouthful of noodles before he swallows. It's cute. “Does he not like people?”

“He usually just doesn’t like men,” you watch in awe as Sushi then lays down right at Jungkook’s feet, continuing to stare up at him. “He’s just gotten to where he can stand Taehyung, and I’ve had him for two years.”

You don’t know why you tense up when you mention your boyfriend. Maybe it’s because you know Jungkook probably shouldn’t be in your apartment. Maybe it’s where Jungkook’s presence makes you feel nervous, yet a little too comfortable. He doesn’t know you as a friend who’s been in a serious relationship her entire 20’s. He knows you as the friend who happens to be his teacher’s apprentice.

Jungkook though, uses this as a window of opportunity.

“How long have you two been together?” He chooses his words carefully, not wanting to come off too strong or curious—though he absolutely was. After your boyfriend had come visit you last week, he had an array of questions.

You take a deep breath in and out, leaning against the counter, “Almost five years.”

“Damn,” is what he says after a moment of silence, “That’s half a decade.”

You laugh at his comment, “Sounds longer when you put it like that.”

He finishes his ramen, “Thanks again,” he says as you take his chopsticks and stick them in the dishwasher. You then turn your back to throw away the cup. “How’d you meet him?”

You pause momentarily as you open the cabinet where your trash can resides, clearing your throat, “Through mutual friends.”

You turn around and Jungkook nods knowingly, taking another glance around your apartment. Your apartment is decorated simply, but he can read the flares of a scatter brained artist easily. You have olive green cabinets, a cream sectional sofa with mismatched colored pillows, a funky shaped coffee table that’s a pink marble, and a corner of your living room that’s a bit of a clutter with art supplies. It makes him smile inwardly, as he has a similar clutter up in his own living room.

You watch him as he studies your apartment carefully. Deep down, you hope that he likes it. After all, it wouldn’t be much longer that this space wouldn’t be yours anymore. As his eyes come back to the kitchen, something in particular catches his eye. You can pick up on it, giving the widening of his pupils and straightening of his posture.

“You got tickets Yayoi Kusama’s exhibit?” His says almost stunned. You follow his eyes over to the small bulletin board you have hung up in your kitchen. You stick important reminders and other tasks for you on it, but what Jungkook is looking at are two tickets tacked the board.

“Yeah, Taehyung got them for my birthday.”

Your heart sinks as the words leave your mouth. You couldn’t’ even imaged what Taehyung paid for the tickets, but he knew once he realized the exhibit was coming to the city, he had to get them for you. The two of you were going to go together, making an entire planned Saturday around the exhibit. Now, those plans were shot out the window given he was going to be in New York until next week.

“Shit, I can’t imagine what he paid for them,” he seems to be speaking his thoughts, which coincidentally match your own. “You’ll have to take pictures, I’ve always wanted to see it.”

As your shoulders fall, eyes looking down at your ring finger again—an awful habit you need to break.

“I’m not going anymore.”

“Wait, why not?” His voice is rushed and confused. It’s just then when your dryer dings, signaling his shirt is now done. You give him a small smile as you leave to retrieve it, hurrying back the kitchen.

“Taehyung’s still on a business trip, he won’t be back until next week,” you explain as you fold his shirt with crisp, clean lines. You slide the fabric over to him, his hand brushing yours as he grabs it hesitantly.

“You should still go,” he says, leaning on his elbows. His gaze his heavy, but he’s mesmerizing so you can’t look away.

You start to shake your head, “It’s alright,” you say with a half laugh, trying to make it seem as if it doesn’t bother you.

Jungkook perhaps regrets his next words and how fast he says them but—“I’ll go with you.”

Your mouth slightly parts, unsure of what to say. If you acted on emotions all the time, you would have jumped to say yes, of course! But as your boyfriend’s face flashes across your eyelids every time you blink, you hesitate to answer.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” he laughs, breaking the awkward tension in the room, but as you glance at the tickets again—you know you can’t say no to him.

“No, no, you’re fine,” you smile at him softly; the kind of smile that girls give Jungkook that drives him crazy. “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jungkook is good a reading people—which scares you. Jungkook can sense every change in people’s breath, demeanor, and language. You’re sure he could read how you fell sad thinking about not going to the exhibit, but you also didn’t want him to tag along out of pity for you.

“If you want to go, I want to,” he pauses, leaning towards you from across where you stand. “If you don’t, then I don’t,” it’s almost a challenge coming from his lips. He chews on his lips ring as he waits for your answer.

After a few moments of debating internally, “I’ll let you know,” is what you leave it at. Jungkook seems satisfied with your answer, not pressuring you any further to give in to his proposition. Jungkook goes in an Uber soon after since the rain has not given up. Sushi meows as he leaves, even allowing Jungkook to hold him for some quick cuddles. Once he’s gone, the only traces of him left are his faded scent in your sweatshirt and his number in your phone.

⏤

It’s now Saturday, you and Jungkook standing in line for Kusama’s exhibit. He met you here about thirty minutes ago and luckily both of you didn’t arrive any later. The line was moving fast, but the amount of people that’s accumulated behind you goes on for what seems like a mile.

It was quite warm today, opting to wear a white, polka dotted midi-dress and a pair of high top converse. Your hair was down and a bit messy, curls from the other day having fallen slightly. A compliment was the first thing that left Jungkook’s mouth when he saw you. You absolutely hate the bubbly feeling his gaze and words leave in your stomach. It’s reminiscent of how Taehyung left you when you first met. You know you should ignore it, but it’s so hard when he’s standing there looking like that—seemingly always saying the right things.

Today, he’s dressed casually in a pair of baggy jeans that you’ve seen him wear before, a yellow t-shirt, and a black bucket hat. You can’t help but glance down at his tattooed arm every once in a while. You think about how you’d love to hear the stories behind them all. You also think about how is pain tolerance must be insanely high, given his shirtless escapade at your place, you noticed how the tattoos traveled all the way up to his right shoulder

After both of your tickets are scanned and a map of the exhibit is given to him, he opens it, his eyes scanning over the paper quickly.

“Where should we go first?” He asks as he lean over to peak at what’s to see. Unlike most art galleries which are quiet, this one has softer music accompanying each room, making it less awkward to talk if need be.

“This one,” you point to the biggest, most famous room that you’ve heard all about. It’s a dark room, with intricate lights throughout. You hoped that pictures you’ve seen of it we’re only doing it half-justice.

He laughs a deep rumble from his chest, “Shouldn’t we do that one last?” He looks down at you with a small smirk on his face.

You furrow your eyebrows, “No, it’s the most famous one, don’t you want to see it?”

His smirk spreads to a smile, “I know that,” he pauses, “Let’s do that one last so we have something to look forward to, and maybe there won’t be as many people in there by the time we get to it.”

Okay, you think, fair point.

The two of you settle on starting at the All the Eternal l Love I Have for the Pumpkins. As soon as you walk into the room, you are completely in awe at the magnificent work. Despite it being mid spring, the “pumpkins” on display along with fall-oriented music in the background, makes you desperately wish for the cooler weather of October. Jungkook is fascinated too as his eyes only get bigger as he takes in each and every detail.

The two of you make your way around the exhibit slowly, having to wait for some of the rooms to open since the gallery is quite crowded. The next room you go into is called Dots Obsession—Love Transformed into Dots. It’s got a pink hue to it, large white balls with black dots on them.

“I think you stole her idea,” Jungkook comments as you take pictures, his eyes scanning down your dress. You flip him off, which he responds with a laugh.

Phalli’s Field is the next room. Unlike the previous rooms, this one is bright with what looks like a field of while, red-dot phallic shaped objects. Jungkook ends up taking a mirror selfie of you two in this room and you make a mental note to ask him to send it to you later.

The next one is called Love Forever, another dark room with a changing light color pattern that’s abstract in nature. This one makes you think of Taehyung and rightfully so. You know that he would have enjoyed this, given that he likes art that’s stimulating and not “boring”—his words, not yours. You snap a picture of this one for him, hoping that he’ll like it and the name.

The second to last one is called Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity.

“Jesus,” you say after you read the name of it, “Realist much?”

Jungkook laughs as he follows you into the room. It’s dark again, with twinkling yellow colored lights filling the space. It reminds you of a fire. The yellow flickers to a slight orange shade every millisecond, giving off a summery feel. It makes you think of your childhood, when your parents would take you to the beach and roast marshmallows over an open fire. The thought makes you a little sad, knowing that those times would never come back. That was before you knew about loss of innocence and the high standards of your parents that would come.

Finally after a couple hours of diving into each room, along with reading each story behind the pieces, you reach the room that you’ve been itching to get to all day. You’re welcomed into the room and an immediate gasp leaves your lips.

“Wow,” you whisper as you take a big glance around.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook says behind you just as the door is closed. You realize that it’s just the two of you here in. He definitely made the right call about waiting.

The Souls of Million Of Light Years Away is simply breathtaking. It’s dark again, but this time with what looks like actually a million lights twinkling in all different forms of colors and shapes. Each light bounces off the mirrors and you imagine this is what being in space is like. A dark void with a million galaxies around you. It’s oddly peaceful even though you can barely see your hands in front of you or Jungkook behind you. You don’t notice, but Jungkook quickly snaps a photo of you in the light, your silhouette showing up with the millions of lights behind you. He’s smiling at his phone when you turn around, and you ask him what’s up.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “This is just amazing.”

You hum in agreement, not wanting to leave the room. As you find Jungkook’s eyes, another tiny gasp leaves your lips. If you weren’t confident enough before, you’re sure that his eyes are made of stars now. The light bounces off his brown, doe eyes, blending into the gallery seamlessly. He licks his lips before he asks if you’re ready to go. Hesitantly, you slowly nod, your feet heavy as you leave the room and follow him out.

When you make it back outside, it’s still light outside which makes both of your eyes sensitive since you’ve just spent a little over two hours in the dark. Since the exhibit was on the opposite side of the city, both of you opt to take the subway back towards your respectable apartments. Both of you are sat together at the back of the car, looking through your pictures again, marveling at the exhibit.

“Thanks for coming with me,” you say with a smile. You’re sitting at the window seat, your body turned to Jungkook. He’s slightly turned towards you too, one of his legs curled under his body.

“I kind of invited myself,” he chuckles, leaning onto his hand that’s support his head.

“And I accepted your invitation,” you retort, “Taehyung would have loved it,” you add, a little bit of sadness to your tone.

Jungkook watches you intently as you break away your gaze, to stare at the rumbling floor of the subway car. He’s chewing on his lip ring again, a habit he can’t break ever since he got it pierced months ago. He doesn’t know anything about your relationship with this Taehyung guy, but he senses that something is off. Anytime you’ve spoken about him, your eyes drift off and your attitude shifts. He can’t help but be more curious.

“What does Taehyung do?”

“He works in finance,” you say, “Private equity.”

Jungkook nods slowly as he receives this information, knowing exactly what you’re saying. His own parents relationship flashes in his mind and it suddenly clicks for him. Long hours in the office, holding out for the weekends—which even then aren’t guaranteed, high stress levels. That type of financial work is no joke—it takes a toll not only on the person doing it, but everyone around them. His heart suddenly feels for you and for a brief moment he feels as if he is talking to his mother.

He suddenly wonders why a person like you, would be with a guy like that. You have so much light and fireworks within you, he doesn’t know why you would subject yourself to a relationship that’s seemingly all black and white. People like his father and Taehyung see the world in black and white. You and Jungkook see the world in vibrant color.

“I’m assuming he stays quite busy then,” Jungkook’s words are calm; understanding even.

You give him a tight lipped smile before you nod, “I’m sure you know.”

His eyes study your face closely, “As long as he makes time though, it’s all that matters,” he pauses briefly, “That’s just always been the issue with my parents.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying what he’s saying. Internally maybe he sympathizes with you? Wants to make you feel less alone? Whatever it is, he doesn’t like how your demeanor completely changes when your boyfriend is mentioned. It’s like you’re the flame of a candle and when Taehyung is mentioned, you’re blown out.

Though Jungkook’s words are sweet and genuine, you can't help but still feel bitterness towards Taehyung right now.

“Clearly makes time,” you chuckle sarcastically with an eye roll, before you realize what you’re actually saying. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be ranting to you about my boyfriend,” quickly covering your tracks with another laugh, this one lighthearted.

“Isn’t that what friends do?” He nudges your leg with his own, covering any of his own transgressions towards your boyfriend smoothly, “Listen to other friends rant about their boyfriends?”

You smile at him before looking up at the subway to car to see how much longer you have until your stop. You’ve still got 10 minutes.

“Are you telling me there’s a boyfriend I haven’t heard you rant about?” You raise a brow at him attempting to make a joke with him.

He chuckles, “I don’t discriminate,” he says pointedly, “But no, no one to complain about at the moment.”

“That’s a little surprising to me,” you tell him honestly. He makes a humming noise in question, “I mean you’re funny, talented, attractive—“ you stop yourself, your heart twisting embarrassingly at your words.

A playful smile crosses his lips, “Don’t inflate my ego too much Y/N.”

You immediately shove him playfully telling him to shut up underneath your breath, “You know what I mean though.”

His eyes look away from you as he looks to the front of the subway car. An exhale leaves his lips, shrugging his shoulders, “I dated a girl for a couple years but we broke up last semester,” he explains.

You’re friends with Jungkook, so you don’t mind asking your question. “What happened?”

He purses his lips in contemplation, his lip ring catches the reflection of the moving train, “I think I was more serious about the relationship than she was,” he clears his throat and you shuffle a little awkwardly in your seat, “I think we just wanted different things at the end of the day. It’s hard to make something like that work long term, you know?”

His words send your heart rate skyrocketing and you can’t help but ask yourself if that’s the situation you and Taehyung are in. Though you and Taehyung have voiced a life together—actions speak louder than words. You look up again. Five minutes.

You nod in response, unable to form any words.

“It’s fine though,” he says, “Everything happens for a reason.”

“Yeah, including meeting a guy who knocked me on my ass the first two times I met him,” you say jokingly, though you mean every word. You’re sure Jungkook was placed in your life for a reason; like a blossoming star in the galaxy burning bright to light up a universe.

“You actually knocked me on my ass one of those times.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “That was all dramatics Jeon Jungkook, I can see right through you.”

He smirks with playful eyes, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I don’t know… is it?” Subconsciously, you bite your lip under his gaze. It drives Jungkook nuts.

He quirks an eyebrow at you with soft eyes, “You tell me.”

His gaze his heavy and there’s palpable tension between you two as the train comes to a slow. Thank god.

“This is my stop,” you announce.

“I can walk with you if you want?” He offers, not wanting to leave you alone if you really don’t want to be alone.

You shake your head softly since it’s still light outside, “I’m alright, thank you though.”

He nods, not pushing you any farther. After the train stills fully, he stands up to let you through. Your chest brushes against his as you shimmy between him and the seats behind you. Unable to look away from him as you maneuver, you feel the tension increase with no space between you two. God, why does he have to look at you that way?

“Let me know when you get home,” he says as you get by him. You nod, waving him a final goodbye, a familiar heaviness in the bottom of your stomach.

It takes about seven minutes to reach your complex from the subway station and as you’re walking into the main lobby, your phone pings.

[Jeon Jungkook 5:23 PM] image.png

The image takes a moment to load, but a smile spreads across your face when you open it. The mirror selfie is cute as hell and it almost looks couple-ly. Jungkook is standing behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder as you lean into him. You’re soft smiling into the camera, a peace sign in your left hand. You save the image to your camera roll immediately.

[You 5:25 PM] Thank you :) I just got home btw!

He sends a thumbs up, before another picture is sent through. This one loads faster since you’ve just walked into your apartment and his words leave you feeling like something is clogging your windpipe.

It’s a picture that you had no idea he took of you—though you can’t really see any details of yourself, it’s stunning picture. Your silhouette in the dark with the surrounding lights is simply beautiful.

[Jungkook 5:27 PM] I think you’re beautiful enough to fit into that exhibit

[You 5:27 PM] You too

Yeah, you’re fucked.

⏤

For anyone else it was just another Monday, but for you—there had been a new page turned. You have no idea what conspired in your brain from Saturday to now, nevertheless something changed. Well, there had been a couple changes since then, however you’re trying to not focus on that.

You woke up early this Monday with an itchiness to your body. You ended up going to a spin class at 6 AM, before hurrying to shower and getting to the university by 7:30. Before you could rethink your decision, you were throwing out every piece of artwork that you had finished in the last two months. A part of you was already regretting trashing the canvases as you hauled them overhead into the large dumpster bins. The major part of you felt relief and a sense of newness—for the first time in months, you felt inspired.

The only way you knew you could take advantage of this newfound creative impulse, was to rid yourself of anything holding you back. That meant getting rid of the shit pieces you thought you would submit for the exhibition.

You manically texted Sana a picture of your now empty studio and she responded immediately.

[Sana 8:17 AM] what the actual fuck did you just do

[Sana 8:17 AM] Y/N it’s literally 8 AM are you okay

You can’t help but laugh at her words as you sit in the floor of your workspace, typing a response quickly.

[You 8:18 AM] A new me has awakened… that or I’m just very sleep deprived and acting out

[Sana 8:20 AM] i think it could be the latter

[Sana 8:20 AM] where has this new me come from?

You purse your lips, trying to block out the scene from your brain.

[You 8:21 AM] My therapist lol

You know that’s not it, at least not all the way. Sure talking to her was always a highlight of your week when you did, finding a new perspective on your childhood and need for outside validation—but that was another story for a different day. A new wave of emotions—confusing, chest-tightening emotions have crawled through your veins in the last two days. Even if you know it’s so wrong—you’re holding onto them for the sake of the exhibit and your own sanity.

It’s not long after when you pick out a new, clean fresh canvas for you to work on. You set it up on one of your larger easels, facing it towards the sunlight as best as you can. You decide to take a page from Sana’s book by creating a rough sketch of what you want to eventually put on the canvas. The ideas in your head are so particular, and so—heart wrenching—you wanted to ensure you translated it well.

It takes about an hour to sketch the rough outline for the painting. You knew that painting this first piece would probably take a few days if you were consistent with it, wanting to add as much detail as possible. Realism was your speciality, but it never gets any easier. The slightest mistake can make a face, or hands, go from looking like a photograph to a cartoon character. You didn’t know what you wanted to call the piece yet, though you had a few ideas rummaging through your brain.

Seokjin is calling you in for his 11 AM sketch class which you help with regularly. As you leave the serenity of your workspace, sudden anxiety fills your body. Your hands are clammy, your throat feels as if it’s constricting on itself, and your tummy is doing flips. Seeing him is the last thing you need, but you know his schedule very well at this point.

A week ago, you wouldn’t have cared. Now, you feel as if an invisible line as been crossed.

As you step into the classroom, your mouth goes dry. Jungkook is sat in the middle of the classroom beside Lisa, both of them looking a little tired and chatting randomly.

Seokjin looks at you with a small smile, “You were here early this morning,” he comments.

You give him a smile back, hoping he doesn’t murder you after you say your next words, “I threw out my pieces.”

His face drops, all color leaving it, “You did what?” He looks stunned as you grimace at him with an apologetic look on your face. He glances down at his watch which says it’s now exactly 11 before he says under his breath, “We’ll talk about this later.”

It sounds threatening, but you know if you explain yourself well enough—he’ll let it slide. After all, he clearly wasn’t a fan of what you presented to him recently. You’ll prove to him that you’re new stuff will be ready for the exhibition, and more importantly—present a much better side of your art.

“I hope everyone had a good weekend,” Seokjin greets everyone, with a few tired responses back. “Just a reminder for all of you participating in the exhibition, your pieces will be due at the end of this month, so make sure you’re staying on top of your deadlines.”

You zone out of Seokjin’s housekeeping information for the class, letting your eyes wander around the classroom. Sketching was one of his larger classes, with students in other departments also taking the class as an elective. It was personally one of your favorite classes in undergrad. You were happy to help this class, given you felt you could actually help the students if they needed it.

A breath hitches in the back of your throat when your gaze meets Jungkook’s from the front of the classroom. He’s staring at you with purpose, though his gaze soft and curious. You hadn’t spoken to him since your last text after the art exhibition. That wasn’t the plan, but given your mind wandering to places it shouldn’t have, you felt if you did talk to him—he would see right through you.

You quickly break his eyes, unable to hold it without feeling too hot.

A fucking sex dream.

A fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook.

A fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook who happens to be your subordinate.

A fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook who happens to be your subordinate in which you woke up in a panic, then having to use your vibrator to release the tension in your tummy.

A fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook who happens to be your subordinate in which you woke up in a panic, then having to use your vibrator to release the tension in your tummy—all while you have a boyfriend who’s away on a work trip.

You’re unsure if you have ever had a dream so realistic and so blissful—even with Taehyung. Every time you closed your eyes since Saturday, all you could see was Jungkook’s face buried in between your thighs, your back arching off whatever surface you resided.

You force yourself to stop thinking about it—you’re in the classroom for fucksakes. The last thing you need is for people to notice you squeezing your thighs together under the desk you’re sat.

“Y/N, are you good with that?”

“Hm?” You mumble, realizing you’ve daydreamed through whatever Seokjin just explained.

He looks annoyed as he lets out a deep breath, “Being the hand model today?”

Your eyes widen, your mouth parting as you look down at your hands. Thankfully you got a manicure last week, though the almond acrylics have already grown out some. Even though Seokjin was posing everything as a question, you knew you had no choice. Especially if you didn’t want him on your ass about throwing out your paintings, you really had no choice.

You nod slowly, Seokjin soon setting up the projector and camera for you to place your hands under.

“Take as long as you need, turn in your sketches here,” Seokjin taps the corner of the large desk you’re sat at.

You’re given free rein on how you position your hands, so you settle on something feminine and simple. You lay your left hand over your right delicately, your right palm flat against the wood. You feel a little insecure with your hands being projected as 10x the size above your head, but you relax knowing it’s just what you artists do. If you were in the students position, you would have much rather sketched your hands than the one time Seokjin made you all sketch someone’s feet one time in undergrad.

The classroom stays pretty much silent, pencils and erasers against paper the only sound radiating. Time goes by slowly as they all continue to sketch, your eyes having not really left anything in close proximity to you.

That changes when you hear a throat clearing, a tone you could pick out in a crowd.

“Do you care to move your left hand a little forward, Y/N?”

Jungkook’s voice is smooth through the silence. Instinctively, your eyes meet his again. You give him a nod as you reposition your hands slightly. It takes him a moment to get back to drawing, his gaze heavy on your eyes. You have to break away, your thighs itching for more relief. You look down at your hands, wondering how they would look around his cock. You imagine he’s thick, veiny—stop it, you idiot!

Whatever was going on in your head, it needed to be stopped and fast. You just didn’t know if you actually wanted it to.

⏤

Taehyung comes back Friday morning, giving you a call as soon as he lands. You’re finishing up the piece you started on Monday when your phone rings.

“Hi baby,” Taehyung greets you and you can hear a smile in his tone. It makes you smile in return. “Happy Friday,” he says knowingly.

“Happy Friday to you,” you respond, taking solace on your small couch for a small break. “You just land?”

“About an hour ago, just got into my ride, heading to the office,” he explains.

“You just got back from a two week trip and they’re making you go in office?” You ask him with confusion lacing your tone. You had no idea how he kept up with the demands of his job—if anything, the older you two get, you feel sorry for him. You knew he loved his job, but goddamn—it has to be too much sometimes?

“Only working a half day today,” he pauses, “When do you finish today?” He asks eagerly.

“Hmm,” you look at your watch, a nice gold piece of jewelry Taehyung actually got you a couple years ago for Christmas, “I’ll probably leave around three today.”

“I’ll come to your place then,” he says, a particularly suggestive tone to his voice. You find yourself smiling as you relax into the couch some, letting out a deep sigh. “Roses and a bottle of champagne included,” he adds.

“No need for all that,” you bite your lip in anticipation, “Unless we’re celebrating something?”

“Lots to celebrate baby,” he says, “You and I have a fancy date tomorrow.”

“Do we?” You press, chewing on some skin around your thumb nail but quickly stop, not wanting to ruin your cuticles. You then bring your left hand up, staring at your ring finger.

“Oh yes,” he says hurriedly, “Listen I’m about to go into the office, but I’ll give you more details when I come over okay? Love you.”

“I love you too,” you say before he’s ending the call. While your heart swells at the thought of “celebrating,” something, you can’t help but be a little skeptical. The rush in Taehyung’s tone shows there’s something he’s nervous about, but you take it as a good thing. Nervous about proposing? You could only hope.

The rest of the afternoon you finish up your painting, a relieved sigh coming from your lips as you sign the bottom right corner with your initials. It’s just how you imagined it—the bubbles leaving the girl’s mouth and nose as she screams under the water, her hands clawing for the surface, but the weight of a cinderblock tied to her ankle sinking her down in an abyss of dark water.

You settle on calling it Drowning for the Sake of Drowning.

⏤

As you’re gathering up your belongings to get ready to leave, you exhale in relief. You’ve kept the door to your workspace closed all week unlike usual, indicating for no one to bother you. Sana brought you lunch a couple days ago but aside from that, little to no interaction has occurred with anyone.

You’ve managed to fully avoid Jungkook this entire week after the sketching class on Monday—which is exactly what you’ve needed. The boy with the lip piercing has taken up too much space in your brain recently. You like having Jungkook as a friend, but that’s all he can ever be and until your brain can separate that and whatever feelings you’ve garnered for him over the last few weeks, avoiding him like the plague is your only solution.

Of course, nothing in your life ever goes to plan which is why you nearly knock yourself over when you run right into him as you leave your office.

“Shit, you okay? We really have to stop doing this,” He asks you with a slight laugh. It takes you a moment to nod in response as you stare up at him with parted lips. Any progress you’ve made of pushing him out of your mind, crumbling entirely. He’s in your brain again, his face in your thighs, hands gripping your hips—

“You’re leaving already?” He asks as he observes your tote bag held tight to you, the door to your space closed.

You clear your throat while simultaneously clearing your head, “Y-yeah, I finished my piece early,” you pause, debating if you should say your next sentence, but you know morally you should, “Taehyung came back today.”

Jungkook stiffens, scratching the back of his head, “Can we talk?” His voice is timid, but stern in what he wants.

If you hadn’t thought about your answer, you probably would have gladly invited him back into your workspace and god knows what would have happened.

“I can’t right now,” you say, “I’m meeting Taehyung around three,” you explain, your feet picking yourself up to brush past him. It’s close to 2:45, which means you don’t have much time to get home.

Jungkook startles you when he grabs your forearm to stop you, “Y/N, wait,” his voice is rushed and desperate as he turns his body to face you, you pressed flush against his chest. You jerk out of his grip, taking steps backwards.

“Jungkook,” you say warningly, “I can’t do this right now,” your voice is weak and unconvincing as you turn around, rushing away from him.

Jungkook decides on letting you go giving a frustrated tug on his hair as he watches your frame disappear down the hallway.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, kicking the closest wall to him, ignoring any pain that shoots up from his foot.

⏤

You’re standing in front of your large mirror, examining your dress to ensure it’s smooth in all the right places. It’s a silk midi-dress that’s a light sage green color complimenting your skin tone beautifully. There’s small, tasteful cutouts on the side that leads it to an open back.

“Wow baby,” Taehyung gives you a pretty smile as he enters your bedroom, “You look great.”

You’re in the process of lacing up your heels around your ankle, throwing him a small smile.

“Thank you, you look handsome.”

He’s wearing another one of his immaculately tailored suits, though he’s ditched a tie and vest, opting for a more casual look—well casual for him being that it’s a work-sponsored party.

Turns out, the big fancy date Taehyung referred to yesterday was an invite only company party at Taehyung’s boss’s, boss’s, boss’s estate. While it wasn’t a typical Saturday night for you two, with a chance to dress up with free food and booze, it was something you couldn’t say no to. (Even if you wanted to say no—you really had no choice—you were there to support Taehyung.)

“Will you help me with this?” You ask him as you hold up a necklace. He obliges, stepping towards you, he gently grabs the necklace ensuring any stray hair pieces were out of the way as he encircles to clasp it around your neck. Once he’s finished, he wraps two strong arms around your front, pulling you flesh against his front.

“You smell good,” he inhales your scent as he nuzzles into your neck, pressing his hips into your backside.

“Taehyung,” you laugh, fighting away from his grip, “Our ride is almost here,” you turn around giving him a pointed look. He pouts with a groan, but you give him a quick peck to wipe the sour look off his face.

The estate is about thirty minutes outside the city and being in such a fancy car with a driver, you already feel slightly uncomfortable. One of the reasons you were attracted to Taehyung was because of how different he was from you and your upbringing. You felt as if you desperately craved something different from what your parents had. You liked the idea of simplicity—black and white. No chaotic artsy types. However, as the car continues its drive to the fanciest suburb of the city, you can’t help but feel the differences swallowing you whole.

Taehyung’s busy on his phone seeming to be answering emails—yes, at 8 PM on a Saturday night. Your foot is tapping nervously against the floor, an uneasy feeling settling again in your tummy. Ever since Taehyung showed up at your apartment yesterday—a man of his words—with roses and champagne, something deep within you felt off. Flashes of another set of brown eyes strike across your lids each time you close them.

You obviously hadn’t had sex since Taehyung had been gone, almost a three week dry spell, and it was just… okay. You found it hard to relax the minute Taehyung initiated it, your muscles tense as he undressed you slowly wanting to make love to you after one glass of champagne. Maybe it’s where Taehyung is still keeping secret on whatever you two are supposed to be celebrating or it’s Jeon Jungkook himself—your body physically wouldn’t let you come in Taehyung’s presence. Two rounds of sex ended with you having to use your vibrator to finally get off and the third round this morning, you ending up faking an orgasm—something you haven’t done in years.

The driver is in queue for drop off service, letting you and Taehyung out as soon as he could. You eyes are marveling at the sheer size of the home. It almost makes you sick when you think about people having this much money. There’s not one, not two—but three fountains just at the front of the house. Two are positioned beside the large entrance and the third is in the middle of the circled driveway.

From what you can tell, there are a good amount of people inside already, the large windows indicating that.

“Whose house this again?” You say in awe as Taehyung grabs your hand.

“The President of our company,” he says, keeping his voice low as other people are walking in around you.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself when you cross the threshold, immediately greeted with flutes of champagne.

Taehyung smiles down at you as he takes a sip, “Get used to it baby,” he comments with a light-hearted tone, but you know he’s being serious. You don’t like it.

The inside of the home is just as lavish as it looks from the outside. It’s modern, with clean lines and sharp contrasts of whites, creams, browns, and blacks. The large foyer is an open concept, the house opening up in multiple ways. There’s two staircases that lead to the upstairs, corridors that lead elsewhere to the left and right, and if you continue straight, that’s where the main party seems to be. The living room is large and open, warm ambient lighting filling the space. There’s a 70’s inspired conversational pit with a large plush couch that’s the center of the room. It’s absolutely stunning.

You two haven’t been in the house for two minutes until his coworkers and others are coming up to greet Taehyung. He introduces you with a big smile, holding you by the waist as he does so. You sense you’re one of the younger ones of the groups you go around to, sometimes forgetting that Taehyung has almost four years on you. His words come naturally to him and you try your best to converse with people and their plus ones—but you find it hard, unable to find any common ground with anyone.

Taehyung is talking to one of his closet coworkers that you’ve met many times—Jaebum—before the latter’s eyes widen.

“Shit Tae, there he is,” he speaks lowly, his head directing what he’s referring to.

“Who?” You ask curiously, looking around to find someone special but everyone seems to look the same. Clean cut, nice suits, hot women and men as their dates, a few children even running around freely.

“The President,” Taehyung explains, “Shit and he’s coming over here with Minwoo,” he sounds nervous, Jaebum visibly shifting his weight in his shoes. Minwoo was Taehyung’s boss—luckily you remember that from previous work tangents.

As Minwoo and the president approaches the small group of you three, you suddenly feel a little insecure when Taehyung takes a step away from you. A large smile spreads across his face as they approach and your feet hurt a little more now that he’s not letting you lean on him. Is he ashamed of you? Why did he step away?

“Kim Taehyung, Lim Jaebum, the two greatest assets to my team,” Minwoo smiles widely as he enters your circle.

“Minwoo, how are you?” Taehyung reaches out to give him a handshake, then bowing to the President.

“Can’t complain about anything,” Minwoo has a great smile, “Who is this beautiful lady?” His eyes have gravitated to you.

“This is Y/N,” Taehyung introduces you with a nervousness to his tone, “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet both of you,” you smile with a small bow of respect.

“These are the two I’ve heard so much about, eh?” The President speaks with a cadence that sounds familiar but you can’t place your tongue on it.

“Like I said, the very best in the Seoul office,” he smiles, “Have either of you met President Jeon?”

It’s as if your entire world shuts down instantaneously. It can’t be—there’s no way.

“I can’t say we’ve ever had the pleasure sir,” Jaebum nudges Taehyung and suddenly you have never felt more uncomfortable, more out of place, than ever.

They all speak briefly before suddenly, President Jeon’s attention is set on you. As you study his face, you feel your nightmare coming true. Finance, the eye shape, the nose—

“So what do you do Miss Y/N? Are you involved in business too?” He asks with a smile, though you’re unsure if it’s just a facade.

You’re nervous to answer, but you finally muster to shake your head, “No sir,” you start, “I’m an artist, I’m under apprenticeship with someone right now.”

His eyes suddenly light up, “Really? Which artist do you work with?” He sounds fascinated and you hate where you think this may be going.

“Kim Seokjin, I’m not sure if you know of him,” suddenly in need of a glass of something stronger than champagne.

“Do I know Kim Seokjin?” He nearly laughs, “If you walk the halls of the house I’m sure you’ll recognize some of his pieces on the walls,” he says boastfully, your nightmare coming true, “One of my sons actually goes to university where he teaches, you may know him… Jeon Jungkook?”

For whatever reason, the mention of this name catches Taehyung’s attention who is caught up in conversation with Minwoo and Jaebum. He’s listening to the original conversation in one ear, the other trained in on yours with the President.

“I don’t think I do actually,” you lie smoothly trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.

“Ah, that’s a shame, though he can be a pain in the ass sometimes so that might be a good thing,” he jokes with a laugh before turning his attention back to Taehyung and Jaebum.

When you look back up at Taehyung, he’s staring at you with an intense glare, his jaw slightly clenched. You furrow your eyebrows, asking him a silent, “what’s wrong?” He ignores it, his face relaxing back to normal when he looks at his superiors.

“Well, I truly hope that after the move you two only continue to move up in the company as quickly as you already have,” Minwoo says a you zone back into their conversation. Wait, what?

“Ah yes,” President Jeon says, “The office in Chicago is nearly finished and to be able to fill it with analysts of your caliber, it will only continue to grow this great company.”

Chicago?! Your face falls, your eyebrows furrowing as you look over at Taehyung. His body is tense, but he’s refusing to look at you. You suddenly feel dizzy and sick to your stomach, your hands clammy as if you’re going to throw up. Before Taehyung can stop you while his attention is elsewhere, you excuse yourself, attempting to find the nearest bathroom.

The house is gigantic and it doesn’t take long to find a one as you’re sure there are probably 20 on the entire property. You balance yourself on the sink, turning on the cold water water quickly. You grab a towel to wet it, carefully applying it to your chest to cool off.

Taehyung’s being moved? Is Taehyung choosing to move? When was he going to tell you this?! Is this the sole reason he asked to move in together?! But meaning in Chicago, not here?!

You needed a fucking drink. You throw the towel in a waste basket, exiting the bathroom quickly. You hold onto the wall as you walk down the hallway, looking for the nearest open bar. You manage to find one set up just outside, which overlooks a large entertainment area and pool. If you squint, in the distance you can see the lights of the city. God—you wanted to go home.

You settle for a glass of a dark red wine, sniffing it before you take a large sip. It instantly relaxes you, the alcohol moving past your tongue easily. If anything—it tastes like grape juice.

Wanting to avoid Taehyung at all costs, you mosey around the party, finding a staircase outside that leads back into the house. You slowly take the stairs, your mind racing a million miles per hour. You’re sure Taehyung has tried to call you at this point, but your phone is buried deep in your shoulder bag on purpose. You don’t think you can face him at all right now. After this glass of wine, you’ve decided you’re going to call an Uber and get the hell out of here.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you stop dead in your tracks. Right in front of you stands Jeon Jungkook. He’s bent at the waist, leaning over the railing with a wine glass in hand. His gaze was looking out into nothing but since he’s heard heels coming up stairs to his right, his head turns to find you.

He nearly drops his wine glass—which would have definitely injured someone below—or at least severely stained a shirt or two.

“Y/N?” He asks, standing up tall. Goddamnit, you think. He’s dress immaculately in a thickly-striped suit with a white button up that’s slightly undone at the top. His hair is slightly parted back off his forehead and you feel yourself spiraling.

“What are you doing here?” He asks after you’re unable to speak. After meeting Jungkook’s father, you’re definitely not surprised to see him here—but if anything, you feel as if you could break down in tears at any moment.

You realize that you’ve seemingly walked up to a balcony that enters into a large bedroom. You wonder if it’s Jungkook’s bedroom, or just a random guest balcony he’s found solace in.

“I—“ you cut yourself off, trying to keep your composure, “I’m with Taehyung,” you manage to croak out. You can see the puzzle pieces clicking together for Jungkook in his head despite the darkness surrounding you two. However, it’s not that he cares about—

“Y/N… are you okay?” He asks with genuine concern, stepping towards you slightly.

He notices the way your wine glass subtly shakes in your hand, your breathing uneven, your lips tucked away as you begin to shake your head no. He makes no time in rushing over to you steadying yourself against him.

“What happened?” He asks as his brows lace with confusion as he settles you some against the railing, feeling a worry creep into him like he’s never felt before.

You’re more even with Jungkook’s height in your heels now, your eyes bearing deep into his. His presence is calming you down and you feel safe right here. You open your mouth to speak, though nothing comes out. He’s patient and gentle with you, waiting for whenever you’re ready.

You take another sip of your wine before speaking, “I think Taehyung’s been lying to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls, “What do you mean?” He asks in a rush.

“It’s not important,” is what you settle on. You don’t know if you’re in the mood to explain anything to Jungkook—let alone if you want to explain anything.

His face goes straight, letting out a deep breath, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he pauses, stepping away from you some to lean against the rail whilst facing you. “But I’m here if you want to talk… I want you to be okay.”

His words feel like a warm hug wrapping around your heart. You lean back on your elbows, staring up at the stars. Deep breathes, you tell yourself. When you look back to him, his gaze hasn’t left you at all.

“How can I be okay in a world like this?” Your voice breaks off as you bat tears away in your eyes. “All of this,” you motion with your hands, referencing all the luxury and extravagance, wine dangerously swishing around, “Wasn’t supposed to be the plan… why does my partner of almost five years feel the need to not tell me about him moving six-thousand miles away for his fucking job,” your voice now bitter and angry as you break his eye contact.

Shit, Jungkook thinks. He bites his lip ring, contemplating his words and emotions. He hates to compare you to his mother—you’re much more of a strong-headed person than her—but it’s so reminiscent of his childhood and listening to her on the phone with her girlfriends and the arguments with his father.

“It’s only ever about work with him,” you continue, a fire burning deep within you, “Why should I have to be the one to drop everything in my life to cater to him? Have the past five years of my life been a fucking waste?” again, you have to be conscious of your center of gravity as you feel tears wanting to brim over.

“Don’t say that,” he quickly interjects, his tone soft and calm.

“Well it sure fucking feels like it Jungkook,” you spit back at him, though he remains calm and collected. “He won’t even fucking marry me yet he’ll drop everything for this job and all the fucking fake extravagance of it all.”

When you mention marriage, Jungkook is slightly taken aback. Obviously he’s picked up that your relationship has been long and serious, but there’s been no indication of thoughts of marriage. Hell, Jungkook didn’t even hear you mention Taehyung until weeks after you first met.

Your voice trembles as you speak, unable to fight your emotions anymore, "I want friendship in my love for Taehyung but I don't want just a friend," you sip on the wine slowly as Jungkook watches you closely.

"I want to be cared for, and protected, and indulged⎯⎯" you pause again, trying to make sense of your words, "I want to be chosen everyday... is that too much of me to ask?"

Jungkook shifts in his position to fully face you. He shakes his head, one of his hands brushing a piece of hair behind your ear gently.

"It's never too much to ask," he says, his words careful yet understanding. He's felt these emotions all too well himself. He chose his ex-girlfriend everyday, yet she seemingly never chose him. It's an excruciating pain when you love someone more than they love you.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” you mutter, downing the rest of your wine glass to avoid a spill.

“Y/N, you know I care about you,” he says with a careful tone. You meet his gaze again, which now is a little more harsh as if something is stirring inside him, “Can I be honest with you?” He raises a brow.

“Always,” you whisper, slightly afraid of what he’s about to say. Mirroring you, he downs the rest of his wine too for some confidence.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong and out of place. I mean this is where I fucking grew up,” he lifts a hand, a laugh emitting from him, “I think you’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. Y/N, you posses a talent that people can only dream of. You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and so fucking beautiful,” he pauses as he clenches his jaw, “You walk into a room and all I see is you. You radiate a spark that I can’t even begin to describe how special you are and if—“

He cuts himself off, afraid he may take it too far, but when you’re still fully attentive, he says it anyways.

“And if you marry someone like him, I’m afraid that spark will go away,” he pauses, “I know it will go away… because it happened to my mother,” his voice is barely a whisper as he finishes, him being the one to break eye contact with you. “So no, it's not too much to ask. You deserve someone who chooses you, puts you above everything—“ he cuts himself off before he can continue on, sighing deeply as he glances away from you.

You’re simply speechless as his words sink into your bones. Your breath is shaky and you can tell Jungkook thinks he’s overstepped his boundaries. You don’t think he has, but his words do feel like someone has cauterized your insides. It hurts to hear a harsh truth, but as his words sink in, you can’t help but wonder if he’s right.

“Sorry I just—“

“It’s okay,” you speak softly when you interrupt him, “I want you to know that… I think you’re special too, Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” he says again as he’s now got you trapped between his body and the railing, your nose is brushing against his and you’ve never experienced a want so badly in your life, “We shouldn’t do this.”

Your breathing is rugged and nervous as you look into his eyes.

“I know,” you whisper back, your throat feeling like it could close up any second.

You have no idea who leans in first, but when your lips touch his—it’s a spark that might as well be made of lightening. It’s terrifying the way it took only three seconds to melt into him and get a groove. He feels like he’s been dipped in honey and you’re eating him sweet and slowly. He inhales deeply through his nose as he deepens the kiss by opening your mouth with his tongue, his lip ring slightly cold against your skin. He tastes like red wine, furthering intoxicating you against the railing. Your hands slide up his chest, tangling into his hair as you pull him flush against you.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, looking you in the eyes again for another silent question of consent. You nod quickly, missing the feeling of him on you. This time, he kisses you a bit rougher as one hand digs into your waist, the other halfway choking you. God—this is so wrong, so morally wrong—but every bone in your body is screaming yes.

You don’t think you’ve experienced anything of this magnitude in years. You feel him growing hard in front of you, which only further escalates your feelings towards him. When you drag your hand down and over his growing bulge, he breaks away quickly.

“Shit Y/N,” he breathes away grabbing your hand away from his most sensitive area, “We need to stop.”

You shake your head, never wanting this moment to end. He continues to kiss you feverishly, unable to get enough of you.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you breathe out heavily as his forehead rests against yours.

“I know baby, I do too,” his use of the word baby sends a jolt down your spine, “But we can’t.”

His voice is strained and it’s painful for him to stop whatever was about to happen. He wants nothing more than to bury his mouth in between your legs and then stuff you full of his cock thereafter—but it has to stop. Not only is your boyfriend at this party, probably looking through hell and high water to find you—but Jungkook’s father is your boyfriend’s boss. This can’t happen.

A small whine from rejection leaves your throat, but you know he’s right. Not only did you just cheat on your boyfriend of nearly five years—said boyfriend was still at the party you were his date at.

Fuck.

“Are you going to go home with him?” He asks suddenly. You honestly hadn’t thought about it since being away from Taehyung. You were still angry and frustrated with him, unsure if you even wanted to see him again tonight.

You push Jungkook away from you a little bit to shrug off your shoulder bag to retrieve your phone. To your surprise, you only have two texts and one call from Taehyung, which honestly make your heart drop. You were expecting more, but you assume that work calls and he was too busy to try and actually find you.

[Taehyung 9:02 PM] Are you okay?? Where did you go?

[Taehyung 9:37 PM] We should talk when we go home. Call me when you see this.

Jungkook watches you bite your lip nervously, feeling a bits of shame fall over your body. You meet his eye contact before saying that you should go.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, which you don’t refuse. You’re not sure you could find your way out of here. There’s an awkward silence between you and Jungkook as he floats through the halls of his childhood home easily. You end up recognizing two of Seokjin’s pieces on the walls and you have to roll your eyes—there’s no escaping him in your world.

You still can’t believe Jungkook grew up to be who is he when he was raised like this. Beautiful, creative, and free—all from this stuffy background when he could have easily turned out to be a nepotistic douchebag. It makes your feelings towards him only grow even deeper.

At this point, there's no trying to fight it. You've fallen for Jungkook, your kiss with him the final seal of the deal.

The two of you have reached the foyer where you first entered and you instantly spot Taehyung up near the front door talking to another one of his colleagues. You feel like you could throw up and you almost change your mind—wanting to turn around and hide with Jungkook somewhere in this mansion. But, both of you have created a mess at this point and you’re going to have to clean it up.

Taehyung’s eyes have traveled all over—looking worried—until they land on you. He looks relieved but as soon as he spots who you are walking with, he visibly tenses up.

“You should go,” you turn to Jungkook, stopping in your tracks briefly. He looks down at you with an expression you can’t read, giving you one nod before he’s turning on his heel away from you.

You don’t waste anytime looking at him not wanting Taehyung to be suspicious of anything, continuing your march to him.

“Hey—where have you been?” Taehyung’s voice is calm, a sweet smile spreading across his face when you reach him. He doesn’t bother introducing you to the other guy and his date, ending the conversation and practically dragging you outside by the hand in a tight, rough squeeze and pull.

“Taehyung you’re hurting me,” you manage to get out, Taehyung immediately dropping your hand.

“Shit,” he runs a stressed hand through his hair, “I’m sorry babe,” he grabs it kissing it gently as the driver pulls up the car, “I’ve just been worried about you—“

“Only two texts and one call worried?” You retort, an offended look crossing his face. “Or are you too worried about your impression at this fucking party to worry about me? Too worried about your move to Chicago to worry about me?” Your words are fiery hot, not caring if anyone around hears you.

His eyes narrow at you, a visible gulp in his throat.

“We’ll talk about this at home,” his own voice is seething and you’re unsure if you’ve ever heard him this angry. As the car pulls up, his eyes flicker back over to the front entrance of the house. You promptly follow them, your heart stopping when you realize Jungkook is leaning against a column at the front of his house, lighting a cigarette in the process.

As you get into the car, the last thing you see is Jungkook’s eyes in the dark and the glow of his cigarette. Taehyung gets in after you and you know for sure that you’ve made a wrong decision.

⏤

“How could you hide this from me?!” You’re voice is shaky as you watch as Taehyung stands in the kitchen of his apartment, leaning on his palms, unable to keep eye contact with you. You two hadn’t spoken once in the car on the way back to his place, but as soon as you crossed the threshold—you’d been at his throat. Rightfully so.

“Y/N I was going tell to you—“ he pauses as he looks up at you, but you interject before he can say anything else.

“When Taehyung?!” You’re fighting tears at this point, “When you got on the fucking plane to leave me here alone?!”

He makes his way over to you and the only thing you can do is step away from him—you could barely look at him right now, let alone want him to touch you. He opens his mouth to say something back, but closes it quickly, trying to think more about his words.

“I didn’t know how to Y/N,” is what he settles for, “I swear I was going to tell you soon—I-I wanted to let you know and for us to get excited and start looking at places to live!”

You feel a tear fall from your left eye and you know that you’re done for, your jaw shaking as you try to take deep breaths in and out. You begin to shake your head, unable to form sentences.

“Y-you should have t-talked to me about it first Taehyung, do you not understand that?” More tears fall down your cheeks and you brush them away roughly. He opens his mouth again but you stop him—“No Taehyung! Just shut up for two seconds!” Your outburst startles him, letting you continue, “We’ve been together for almost five years—five years Taehyung, you’ve continuously put your career over everything. Your family, friends, me—“

“I’m doing this for us Y/N!” He interrupts you which only makes you even more pissed off.

“What if I don’t want it Taehyung?!” You push back, “All I’ve ever wanted was just… you. I don’t need the fancy parties, tailored suits—all the money and status, it’s all bullshit! All I needed was you and now you’re leaving your life here, expecting me to just drop everything I’ve worked for, just for you! Do you not realize how fucking selfish that is Taehyung?!”

You can tell he’s about to cry now—a rare sight. His jaw clenches as he looks away from you, hands on his hips in frustration. When he doesn’t say anything, you take a step towards him, putting a finger to his chest.

“You’ll go halfway across the globe, that committed to your job and you won’t even fucking commit to me—after five years—you don’t want to fully commit to me, and that’s what’s fucking killing me right now Tae…” your voice trails off, a full on sob escaping your lips now.

“Baby you know that’s not true,” he rushes out, grabbing your wrist in desperation, “I love you so much, so fucking much. There’s never been anyone so perfect for me,” he chokes out.

His touch is comforting, but it feels strange. You feel like you don’t know the person standing in front of you.

You’re shaking your head slowly, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” you pause, looking at him through watery eyes, “And this is one of those times.”

“Y/N, baby please don’t cry,” he leans down, his forehead touching yours, “We can work through this, we’ll build a good life together I promise… I just have to make this move for me, our life will be so good…”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

Your heart feels like it’s being ripped to shreds in your chest. It’s like you’re drowning, unable to come up for air. Your eyes close firmly as you lean into him.

“Taehyung I love you so much,” you whisper, “But I’m not leaving my life here,” you pause, opening your eyes again, “I can’t do it.”

Your words feel like gunshots to your own chest, choking on your mild sobs. Taehyung is shaking his head in denial, his own emotions becoming too overwhelming.

“No, no, no baby please,” he’s begging you, pleading with you, “Don’t say that to me please,” his deep voice is so shaky you can barely understand him, “You’re breaking my heart right now.”

“So are you,” you can’t talk louder even if you wanted to. You felt your entire body being broken in half, as if a piece of you is being ripped out from under you, “I should go,” you wiped your face as you try to pull yourself away from him.

He pulls you back, “No, Y/N, please don’t do this right now.”

You fight against him, pushing yourself off of him, “I need to go home Tae.”

He doesn’t fight you anymore, watching as you gather your purse and phone off his kitchen counter. He whispers your name again as you open his front door to leave. You turn over your shoulder, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“I love you,” his voice is weak and tired.

You nod, “I love you too.”

You find yourself sitting on the steps outside of Taehyung’s apartment building, knees to your chest as you continue to sob to yourself. Taehyung lived in one of the nicest parts of the city in one of the nicest apartment complexes, so you weren’t wary of anyone sketchy finding you on the steps. The only thing you could think about was getting out of this dress and heels—a hot shower to cry in—and curling into a warm blanket for sleep, ignoring everything that just happened.

Was this a breakup?

Should you go back upstairs?

Would you really not move with Taehyung?

So many questions are spinning in your head that you need to be distracted from. You pull out your phone, calling the one person you'd want to see right now.

⏤

You walk into the threshold of Jungkook’s apartment a little after midnight. Lucky for you, he answered on the second ring, on the way back from leaving his parents home. He’s been worried sick the entire drive back to his apartment. You’ve barely spoken a word, tears and choked sobs emitting from your lips. He made the effort to hold your hand the entire drive, which you gladly accepted. He sets down your heels at the door with his own shoes, following in behind you.

Thankfully, you’ve calmed down significantly on the drive over. You take in your environment, inhaling the familiar scent on Jungkook. His apartment is a studio and its spotless, abate a corner filled with art supplies in his living room. The entire right side of his apartment is exposed brick, his bed situated closer to the large floor to ceiling window, a large couch a few feet over, partitioned by a desk and plant. His apartment is much more modern than yours, grey and cream being the prominent color he’s chosen to utilize.

“Thank you,” you turn around to meet his eyes which have the same concerned look in them since he’s picked you up.

He nods, not wanting to press any hard questions to you just yet, “Do you want some water? Anything else?”

You nod, “Sure, water is good.”

He quickly grabs you a glass, filling it with his Brita in the fridge, handing it over to you as fast as can. It feels good as you drink it, your throat raw from all the crying and voice raising.

“Do you want me to take you home in a bit?” He asks hesitantly as he shrugs off his jacket.

“I—I was hoping I could stay…” you trail off, “I’ll take the couch,” you add quickly, “I just don’t really want to be alone right now.”

He gives you a soft smile, a small dimple forming on his cheek, “Of course, I’ll take the couch, don’t worry about it.”

Jungkook makes you feel right at home, offering you a shower and clothes. You happily take them both, turning on his shower as hot as it can go. His bathroom impresses you even more with how clean it is and you finally feel like you’re able to relax after this hellish evening. You don’t wash your hair, only scrubbing your body and makeup off, but it’s still a good shower. Jungkook’s products smell good and you like the idea of smelling like him.

Once you’re out, you quickly change into the large long sleeve t-shirt he’s giving you. The sleeves go way past your hands and it hits you around mid-thigh. It’s soft and comfy, reminding you of many nightgowns you have back at your place. He even has some body lotion in the cabinet and you run some over your legs just so you don’t wake up ashy.

You hang up your towel on the rack before heading back out into the studio space. You find Jungkook sitting on his couch, manspread slightly with his phone in one hand, a glass of wine in another. He must have just opened a bottle, given the cork and bottle are on the coffee table.

He notices you when you get close, sitting down beside him with a heavy sigh. Your mind and body are exhausted. His couch is comfy and you could fall asleep right now with him by your side. He offers you a sip of his wine, which you gladly take.

“Red or white?” You ask him curiously.

He purses his lips in contemplation before answering red, “It reminds me of grape juice,” he adds.

You give him a small smile, the universe continuing to give parallels of your and Jungkook’s lives.

After a few moments of silence and finishing the glass of wine together, Jungkook finally asks, “What happened Y/N?”

Your breath is shaky and you quickly ask him to pour another glass of wine for you two.

“I think Taehyung and I may have broken up,” you don’t believe the words as you say them yourself. Your eyes are fixated on the floor, your leg bouncing up and down to keep your composure.

“You think?” He questions further, confusion lacing his tone.

“H-he,” you pause, holding in any further tears, “He’s really moving,” you confirm from the conversation earlier, “He’s moving six-thousand miles away from here and just thought I would be okay with it,” you regain your consciousness, looking to your right into Jungkook’s eyes, “I don’t have to be okay with that, do I?”

Jungkook rests his head against the back of his couch as his eyes soften for you, “No, you don’t,” he shakes his head.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I called you, I shouldn’t—“

“Hey,” his hand finds the side of your face and you lean into his touch, “You’re my friend, you could call me anytime and I’d answer.”

You don’t know who put Jungkook into your life or why, but the timing was immaculate. He was put in your life when you seemingly needed a breath of fresh air and a new ray from the sun. You’re thankful for it.

“I’m sorry about earlier too,” you say, referring to the kiss you two shared on the small balcony.

Suddenly a playful smirk spreads on his face, “I’m not,” he says biting his lip ring. You can’t help but let out a laugh, him matching you as you both down the second glass of wine. Jungkook opens up an arm for you and you cuddle up next to him, leaning into his body and scent. You’ve done a complete 180 in the last hour, all thanks to the man to your right.

The two of you continue to talk about random things, him trying his best to make you feel better through lighthearted jokes and other things. Neither one of you mention Taehyung again which you’re grateful for. It’s not long until you find your eyes drifting to sleep, unable to keep them open any longer, you fall asleep curled into Jungkook, his head leaning on yours, wishing that he could stitch up every single wound in your heart.

⏤

You wake up the next morning pretty early, your head slightly hurting. Did you really drink that much last night? You’re warm and comfortable, the bed under you molding to your frame perfectly. When your vision finally focuses, a panicked thump of your heart occurs. Wait—you lean up on your elbows sightly looking around the apartment. Everything from last night comes rushing back into your head and you look over to your left to find Jungkook sleeping peacefully on his tummy, his face halfway buried in his pillow.

The sight makes you smile as you maneuver underneath the covers to reach over and grab a sip of water from his small nightstand. You wonder why Jungkook is in bed with you, but then as you go through every scene in your head, you briefly remember Jungkook carrying you over to his bed, eyes barely open. You then remember telling him to stay with you, that he was warm and you were cold. Of course, he couldn’t say no.

“Mm,” a noise comes from Jungkook garnering your attention. When you look over at him, he’s got one eye open looking at you, a small smile playing on his face, “Come back to bed,” he mutters.

And it’s exactly what you do. You finish the small amount of water left before you situate yourself back into his sheets. Jungkook moves onto his side, opening his arms for your frame. You press your back to his chest as he pulls you close, spooning you from behind comfortably. His scent was everywhere, he was everywhere, and before you know it, you’re falling back to sleep together.

It’s a couple hours later when you wake up again, feeling much more rested and your head not pounding anymore. Jungkook’s arm is still around your front resting just below your belly button as he holds you close. The shirt that you wear has bunched up around your hips, your bare legs touching his covered in sweatpants.

You consider yourself to be very hyper-aware of your surroundings. You always have been—taking in every detail of every moment carefully and calculated. Sometimes you use it to your advantage, sometimes you don’t. This is one of those times where you’re feeling every detail, a breath hitching in your throat.

Jungkook is half-hard behind you. Whether it’s that, or how dangerously close his hand is to your pelvic bone, there’s a jolt of lighting that pulses through your veins. You bite your lip in contemplation weighing through options in your head.

Taehyung and you may have broken up—a grey area still there and growing. Despite how you’re possessing guilt about last night, you’re not sure if the relationship can be salvaged—whether the kiss with Jungkook happened or not. You love him, have loved him for so long—but he’s leaving and you’re not going with him.

You definitely know you need to speak with him again, sooner rather than later. If you do nothing, you still have to speak with him.

Jungkook has been a ray of light in your life the past month. Ever since the friendly date at the art gallery, there’s been a tension between you two that was briefly explored last night with a simple kiss. You’ve been very self-aware of your feelings for Jungkook. You know he makes you feel inspired, seen, heard—but still, if you do nothing, you still have to talk to Taehyung.

If you do something, you’ll still have to talk to Taehyung.

But right here, right now, it’s something that you push to the back of your mind, deciding on the latter.

Feeling a little nervous, you push your hips back into Jungkook, though slightly moving in his grip to not make it too obvious. He doesn’t budge, so you try again. This time, Jungkook stirs behind you slightly, cortisol levels increasing with anxiousness.

You wait a few moments before you carefully press back against him for a third time, a heavy intake of breath right near your ear. You slightly freeze when you think he may awake now, but a bundle of excitement runs through your nerves.

When you push your ass backwards again, you feel him push himself forward—yup, most definitely awake. Jungkook’s hand that’s resting just below your belly button suddenly trails down the side of your thigh to rest just above your knee, his fingers facing inwards, gently rubbing at your exposed skin.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out heavily, desire coating his name as you say it. You look back over your shoulder to find him with his eyes still closed, but he’s biting down on his lip harshly.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, his hand now making its way back up to the inside of your thigh as you press your ass into him fully. Before he reaches where you feel yourself pooling for him, his eyes open giving you an intense stare.

He’s asking for consent, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows heavily. Instinctively, you open your legs slightly before saying, “Touch me, please.”

He hesitates before he sits up a little behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder gently. Finally, his hand meets your center, your nipples hardening as you let out a sigh. Two of his fingers rub in circles delicately over the fabric of your panties, blood already rushing down to your clit as he does so.

You spread your legs a little more, your left hand supporting the back of your thigh as he continues to work against you. Your panties are a flimsy thong, barely covering your lips anyways but the moment he finally moves the fabric out of the way, a shutter leaves your lips.

“Fuck,” he says, his fingers feeling at the wetness, “You’re soaked baby,” experimentally, he dips one finger in quickly and back out to run your slick over your swelling clit.

“Mhmm,” you mumble, “Fuck I need you Jungkook,” you say honestly, your breath slightly unhinged. He moves himself a little, to get a better look over his shoulder.

“Move the sheets baby,” he says with a groan from the back of his throat. You do as you're told, both of you now fully able to see when he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Oh—“ you breathe out heavily as he slowly begins to move in and out of you.

He rubs your g-spot inside of you a few times before he begins to curl his fingers inside you. Jungkook continues to only grow harder as he fingers you—your hot slick inside making him too excited. A familiar yet naughty sound of your slick against his fingers begin to fill the room. It’s visceral and hot, leaving your body wanting more.

With your free hand, you grab one of your breasts, stimulating your nipple through the material of his shirt.

“Shit,” he says, “Let’s take this off,” he says and you quickly oblige as he pulls out his fingers to let your rid yourself of the fabric. Your tits bounce free and Jungkook swears he could come right then and there.

His fingers descend back into your cunt, this time a faster pace as he rolls you on your back some. His mouth latches over your left nipple, a content exhale coming through his nose. A hand twists into his hair as your moans continue to get louder once he begins a steady pace against your clit with his thumb. Your breathing is picking up rapidly, your back arching off the mattress as he works his way to making you come.

“Jungkook—fuck I’m gonna come,” you tell him through bated breath as his mouth works against your breast, your neck and earlobe, and finally meets your mouth hungrily.

“Come on baby,” he says into your mouth and as if on cue, your orgasm is tipped off the cliff, your face contorting as it shudders through your body.

“Ah, ah!” Your body twitches against his as he works you through your orgasm, telling you just how good you’re doing and how pretty you look. When you finally feel like your body has given everything it’s got, you lean up to crash your lips onto Jungkook’s, whose body is still behind of you as he leans over to kiss you.

With your thighs now closed, you two have no space between each other, his cock straining against his sweatpants to be free. You reach behind you, pushing his pants down, unable to wait any longer.

“Wait, wait,” he breathes heavily, his hand grabbing yours before you can fully push his sweatpants down, “Are you sure?”

A strained whine leaves your lips as you nod quickly, “I need you so bad Jungkook,” you say which is all he needs to finish taking off his pants, underwear-less, his beautiful cock springing out against his tummy. He’s bigger and thicker than you could have imagined, veiny and a pink tip the color of his lips just waiting to be sucked into you.

“I have condoms in the nightstand,” he says. You quickly reach over since it’s on your side, digging one out quickly. You tear the packet open with your teeth before you hand it over to him. With the little space you’re giving him, he’s rolling down the condom, a sharp intake of breath as he touches himself.

You’re about to roll onto your back before he stops you, “Stay on your side baby,” he instructs as he presses himself against your back again. His left hand lifts up your leg, your cunt now fully exposed to the colder air, a shiver sent down your entire body. He rubs his tip against your slit, an explicative falling from his mouth when he finally begins to push inside you.

He so big—the stretch slightly burning as he works into you. There definitely could have been more foreplay involved, but the desire for this man was too strong to wait anymore. You don’t even realize that you’re holding your breath until he’s pushed at the hilt, his pelvis against your backside fully.

“It’s okay baby, I got you,” he manages to say as he relished in your slick warmth, “God I’ve dreamed out this so much,” he says as he pulls out slowly before even slower pushing back in.

“Me too,” you breathe out truthfully as you hold his head close to your own; shit it burns, “Is it living up to your expectation?”

He licks his lips with a slight chuckle, relishing in a heavy moan you’ve just let escape.

“Turns out my imagination isn’t as good as I thought,” it’s the last thing he says before he picks up his pace inside you.

He hooks his arm under your leg to open you up even further, looking down the front of your body to watch himself go in and out of your pussy. He fills you up to the point where it’s dizzying. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm earlier, your mouth slack as he pumps himself with a good stroke.

“Fuck,” he groans heavily, “You’re so perfect baby,” his breath is hot over your neck, unable to form words yourself—whiney moans emitting from your lips.

You crane your head to look back at him, your noses brushing together before you reach up to meet your lips together. It’s a messy kiss—wet and hot as you breathe into each other’s mouths, his tongue working against yours. With your free hand, you bring it to stimulate yourself from the outside against your clit, a shudder going through your breath.

“That’s it baby, touch yourself for me,” he watches as you circle your clit, your pussy squeezing around him tightly. You already feel another orgasm approaching you, but Jungkook suddenly pulls completely out of you, leaving you breathless.

“Jungkook?” You ask as he turns you flat on your back, his lips trailing down to your pussy, his tongue meeting your center.

“Didn’t want to come yet,” he explains as he begins to eat you out as if its his last meal. His lip ring is cold against your sensitive skin. He open mouth licks, kisses, and sucks all on you and your clit. Your hips arches off the mattress, explicative falling out of your mouth. You taste sweet and Jungkook’s sure its the best he’s ever had.

As Jungkook focuses on your clit, sucking in with harsh lips you tell him you’re going to come again. Your mouth falls open when you feel yourself reach the peak of your climax again, quickly falling as you moan shamelessly loud. You’re seeing white behind your eyelids as you grip onto the pillow at your head, biting on your lip to quiet yourself. It’s no use given it’s one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. He continues to let your ride out your orgasm and it’s becoming too much. The over stimulation bringing on a familiar uncomfortable sensation as you tell him to quit. He obliges but is then lining himself up with your entrance again, entering in you flush all at once.

This time, Jungkook’s pace is fast and rough as one of his hands grip where your hip meets your torso, the other around your neck as he fights to not kiss you. As much as he loves your lips, he loves the noises coming out of them and wants you to be as loud as you can be.

“Jungkook I can’t,” everything is sensitive, a pleasurable pain pulsing through you as he slams against you relentlessly.

“Yes you can baby, come on,” he’s whining too as this point, “Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he says it like a warning, but you want nothing more for him to do just that.

“Yes, yes, yes,” whispered chants leave your lips, Jungkook’s own moans mixing with yours loudly before he releases the pressure off your neck, lips crashing down on your own. Someway, somehow, you come a third time as his pelvic bone grinds into you, a muffled scream into his mouth as you do so.

This is what sends Jungkook over the edge, his hips slamming into yours harshly as he comes into the condom, a strangled groan emitting from the back of his throat.

“Fffuck Y/N,” he stills inside of you, both of your hearts racing and sweaty in the sheets. He collapses on top of you, your arms wrapping around him protectively as he places intimate kisses along your collarbone and chest.

Your whole body is aflame and as he looks up to you, his eyes full of stars. You brush his fringe from his face slowly as the two of you kiss gently in the haze of the morning. You’re sure that Jeon Jungkook is a disguised angel fallen from heaven.

⏤

“Sit still,” Jungkook laughs as he looks up from his sketch book briefly, a lazy smile playing at his lips.

You laugh while biting your lip, “I am still!” You fight back as you rest your head in your hand, looking right at him longingly. He sets down his pencil for a moment, inhaling a small amount from the joint you two were currently sharing. You hadn’t smoked in a long time, but when Jungkook offered after having sex, you couldn’t refuse.

Both of you are a little high not just on the flower, but each other too. You don’t know what time it is or how long both of you have been laying around at his apartment since you’ve been awake. On his bed, he’s sitting criss-crossed apple sauce across from you as you lay on your side as his model. He begged to sketch you for nearly 20 minutes before you finally agreed.

You take another hit from the joint, “How’s it going?” You muse and he smirks slightly, chewing on his thumb nail as he continues to draw.

“Do you ever shut up?” He says and you flip him off deservedly so.

It’s only another 10 minutes until Jungkook proclaims he’s finished—at least for now. He says he’d add more details later when his brain was a little more clear. Though when he hands the sketch pad over to you, your eyes widen.

“Oh wow,” you marvel, “More details?” You ask in disbelief. Though the sketch was tad a messy, not perfect, it still looked exactly like you. Almost frighteningly so. You were wearing his shirt again, your hair fallen and messy after the sexcapades earlier. Even the details of your hands are immaculate despite how minuscule they are in the drawing.

“You like it?” He asks, his eyes a little wide, tone seeking validation. You give him a hazy-eyed smile, giving him a nod of approval.

“I’ll sketch you one day, to return the favor,” you say with a peaked brow as you hand him back the sketch book.

“A favor eh?” He bite his lip ring, “I had to beg you for this.”

“Exactly—I always repay for charity work,” you laugh when he rolls his eyes, moving over to your frame.

He lays on his side mirroring you as he props his head up on one of his hands. He inhales the joint once more with his tattooed hand, offering it to you once more. You shake your head, already feeling a good enough high to enjoy yourself and not go into full panic mode.

“You have so many tattoos,” you comment as your eyes trail from his hand, up his forearm into his elbow, bicep, and finally, the top of his shoulder.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, clearing the ashtray from his bed, setting it on the floor for now.

“Which one was your first?” You ask him; your curiosity cute to him.

“Hmm,” he thinks about it as he brings out his arm a little to look over each one, “I think this one,” he says, referencing to the Chinese characters on the back of his elbow, “Or maybe the ones on my hand, I don’t really remember,” he laughs, his memory falling short in this moment.

“Do they all mean something to you?”

He nods immediately, his eyes finding yours again. You ask him which one is his favorite.

“Probably this one,” he points to the orange tiger lily on the inside of his forearm, “It’s one of the ones I drew myself.” It’s detailed immaculately, with words blended in behind it, “It’s my birth flower,” he explains. You think he told you once his birthday was in September. Him being a Virgo makes sense to you.

“What does it say behind it?” You ask as your free hand grabs his arm to bring closer to your eyes so you can see the details better.

“Please love me,” he answers after a moment of watching you slowly turn his arm to marvel at all the ink. His words make you freeze though, your heart strings tugging towards him.

You smile at him shyly, “Is Jeon Jungkook a romantic?”

He smiles back at you fondly, “Only when I want to be.”

“Mhm, sure,” you mumble, your hand finding his. His is much larger than yours, covering yours protectively.

“You don’t have any tattoos?” He asks. He’s just seen you naked but his attention was exactly looking at certain places on your skin for ink.

You shake your head, “I’ve always been too scared,” you tell him honestly with a laugh.

He laughs clearly amused, “It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

You roll your eyes, “Says the person with an arm covered in them. I’d trust someone who has like one or two… they’re more likely to be truthful about the pain.”

“Well if you ever want one, I’ll go with you just so I can say I told you so,” he suddenly moves closer to your frame. He throws an arm over your waist, pulling you to him.

“Never gonna happen,” there’s a lame attempt to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. It doesn’t stay, still too short.

“I like you in my clothes,” he comments, brushing his nose against yours. He slowly closes the gap between you two. His lips are still so soft and each time he kisses you—it feels like the first.

“It’s comfy,” you say once you break away from him, your nails scratching the back of his head gently. He relishes in it like a puppy, a relax smiled on his face.

“You look better out of them though,” is his next comment which garners a giggle deep within you. One thing leads to the next and you’re having sex again. This time you’re on top of him, on your tummy, legs over his shoulders—and he makes you come each and every time. You’ve had many blissful moments in your life, but this has to be up with one of your most.

⏤

Reality hits you when Jungkook drops you off at home that evening. Whatever bliss you experienced this morning and afternoon, it all feels like a dream that didn’t happen. You make sure to feed Sushi his wet food as soon you get home, as well as clean his litter box for him. Your phone is what makes you the most anxious. You’ve got missed texts and calls from a few people. Taehyung obviously, Sana, Seokjin, and even your father.

[Taehyung Yesterday 11:13 PM] Please let me know when you get home. I love you.

[Taehyung 12:09 PM] Did you get home okay?

[Taehyung 7:21 AM] Y/N please call me, you’re worrying me.

[Taehyung 10:32 AM] Please text me when you see this. I haven’t slept all night. I love you so much.

4 Missed Calls

Your throat constricts, feeling guilty that you didn’t even have the minds to look at your phone after Jungkook picked you up. You feel sick to your stomach as you continue through your messages.

[Sana 8:23 AM] hey is everything okay?? taehyung texted me this morning and asked if I’ve heard from you

[Sana 8:26 AM] did you two get into a fight? are you home?

[Sana 1:15 PM] hello… are you alive????????

6 Missed Calls

You opt to deal with the others later, giving Sana a call back immediately. Also, just unsure of how to deal with Taehyung right now. She answers on the first ring.

“What the actual FUCK have you been up to?!” She’s screaming and you have to hold the phone away from you as she continues, “You have me worried fucking sick! Why haven’t you answered me or Taehyung! Are you out of your fucking mind!?”

“Sana please, I’m fine,” you say after she’s cooled off some, “I need you to come over as soon as you can.”

She hesitates, “Is everything okay?” She sounds worried, all malice gone in her tone.

“I don’t know,” you whisper over the phone. Now that you’re going to have to face whatever mess has been created, your heart thumps and your chest is tight. She agrees, dropping whatever she’s doing hanging up just as fast.

You decide to text Taehyung, knowing you’ve worked him up sick.

[You 4:23 PM] I’m fine. Slept a lot last night and today, ringer was off.

[You 4:24 PM] love you too

You add the second text without hesitation, despite a bubbling substance of guilt in your tummy. You know your relationship with Taehyung can’t continue. Whatever hurt he’s caused you and what you’ve done with Jungkook—it’s all down the drain. And it’s this reality that makes you break down, sliding to the floor in choked sobs.

Sana finds you this way, nearly hyperventilating as she hurries over to you.

“Y/N!” She exclaims, “Oh my god, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she kneels beside you, her arms throwing themselves around you tightly. You lean into her touch, trying to make sentences but nothing comes out. Just incoherent jumble as you choke out tear after tear.

Sana is literally the best of friends you could ever ask for. As you lay curled up on your couch, she’s fixed you a cup of hot tea and a bowl of ramen for you two with the works—pork belly, an egg, and green onions.

As she serves up your food, she’s got the most worried look on her face and you can’t blame her. You probably look horrifying—horrifying with an after sex glow.

“Babe,” she says after you begin to eat your food, “What’s going on? You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

You slurp a noodle, “Sana,” you groan, “I think I fucked up, but also Taehyung fucked up, fucked up, and I think we broke up but th—“

“Whoa whoa,” she stops you, “Broke up? W-what do you mean?” She’s utterly stunned as you relay this information.

So it’s when you tell her. Tell her everything your life has succumbed to in the last month. From meeting Jungkook—no inspiration—Taehyung putting work before you—the date with Jungkook—the fucking sex dream—to the real reason Taehyung asked to move in with you—the kiss with Jungkook, feelings for him—Jungkook’s dad being Taehyung’s main boss—everything up until after the party.

“How long has he known about the move?” Sana is angry as you tell her all this information.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “We kind of blew up at each other last night and then I just left…”

“Shit,” she mutters, “Well that’s really fucking shitty of him to do that to you Y/N. You’ve been together too long for him not to give you a heads up about that.”

You nod as you set down your bowl of food on the coffee table, “I know and like I said I think we broke up but I’m not exactly sure and now—“ you cut yourself off, your stomach churning at the thought. She looks at your curiously as if she knows what you’re about to say will make her disappointed in you.

“What did you do?” She says slowly to brace herself.

“I wasn’t answering my phone last night because I wasn’t here.”

You can’t even look at her as you continue.

“I was with Jungkook.”

Sana doesn’t say anything as she lets your words process, all the puzzle pieces coming together in her head slowly but surely. She doesn’t look angry or confused, but her face is emotionless which is honestly scarier to you.

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” She already knows, but she wants to hear you confirm it yourself. You nod slowly, adding in not just once—but three separate times. She runs a hand over her temple, her brain clearly working overtime.

There’s a heavy moment of silence that falls between the two of you. You don’t regret hooking up with Jungkook at all—if anything, him and his company has been the light of your life the past few weeks. You just can’t help but feel whatever grey area that Taehyung created, you separated it into black and white without him. Was that fair to him?

“So you had sex with Jungkook, kind of broken up with Taehyung after a fight, but not for sure… and you haven’t talked to Taehyung since last night?”

“Yeah…” you sigh heavily, putting your head in your hands.

“God Y/N,” she mumbles, her hand running up and down your back, “Well you for sure have to talk to Taehyung sooner than later… you have to tell him—“

“Sana—“

“Y/N you’ve dated and loved this man for five years—he deserves to know, even if you two truly were broken up,” she’s harsh with her words, but you know she’s right. “So what do you truly feel for Jungkook?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. Truthfully, you hadn’t put any thought into it since you’ve been home.

“You clearly have developed feelings for him over the last few weeks, faster than even Taehyung,” she pauses, “Do you want something out of him? Or do you think he was just there to comfort you when you needed it?”

You look up from your hands, looking at her in your peripheral, “Fuck Sana, I don’t know,” you feel tears threatening to spill over again, “I think being with Taehyung for so long, I never thought there would be another person I could actually develop feelings for, but he’s kind and gentle, he listens to me, makes me feel heard, and he’s so much like me but that also fucking terrifies me.”

“Why is that scary?”

You lean back into your couch, meeting her gaze, “I always thought I wanted someone so different from me, different than my parents relationship—and I found that and I love him so much,” your voice is strained, “But I’m not sure if different is what I actually needed.”

She puts a hand on your knee for comfort, “Can I be as honest as I can with you?” She’s a little unsure of your reaction, but as soon as you nod she gives you a reassuring squeeze, “I know that you love Taehyung and I know that it’s been hard with his job… I don’t think you should have slept with Jungkook so soon but…” she pauses, “I’m not going to try to make excuses for you but, I get it,” her words aren’t expected and your shoulders relax.

“I think someone like Jungkook was going to come into your life eventually, it just happened to be when you were with someone else… I think you’ve always been scared to be like your parents, but you’re not trapped in a box, you have free will and you’re allowed to do as you please. I don’t think you needed different either, I think you’ve always just wanted someone to give you the same amount of love you give them,” her words are so true that you feel your chest constricting again.

“I’m not going to sit here and say you crossed a boundary because I don’t know if you did, only you know that yourself… but Taehyung deserves the respect from you to let him know and you deserve someone who works in the relationship equally. I feel like this may have been unfair to Taehyung but he's also been unfair to you, for a long time now,” she adds in a breath, “I don’t think you and Taehyung can be together anymore, but I also don’t know if you should be with Jungkook right now either.”

Sana’s words cut through you like a freshly sharpened knife. She’s your best friend for a reason. She’s supposed to support and love you, but she’s also supposed to hold you accountable. You don’t even say anything else as you crawl over to her, both of you embracing in a tight hug.

“I love you,” you mumble to her, honestly coating every word.

“I love you more,” she responds. And you know she does.

⏤

It’s been almost two weeks since your shitshow of last weekend. You’ve barely interacted with anyone aside from Sana and an occasional text from your parents, asking about your final exhibition dates. You told Seokjin that you needed to work from home this week, citing a change in scenery would be stimulating. Obviously, he didn’t know it really was a ploy to keep you away from Jungkook.

You hadn’t spoken to him since sleeping with him. He reached out to you once over text, though you ignored it, needing your head clear of your demons before you faced him. As time has passed, you still don’t regret hooking up with him. The only thing you feel is shame; afraid that your advances came off in bad taste, only using him as a distraction. Luckily as you’ve come to learn, Jungkook is extremely good at reading people and when you didn’t respond to him—he never texted again. You obviously wanted space and he was going to respect that.

What you couldn’t keep running away from was Taehyung. It’s why you’re meeting him now at a park that’s not too far from your apartment. It’s middle of the day on a Thursday, which is surprising that Taehyung agreed to meet now when you reached out. You assumed that he would have been at work but it's when he shows up in casual jeans and a t-shirt, that he must not be.

You’re sitting on a park bench, dressed casually in a sweatshirt and sweat-shorts anxiously waiting for him to show face. When he comes around to sit down, he startles you slightly, but his presence brings a comfortable warmth.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, turning your frame to him. He didn’t look good—his eyes baggy and dry, lips a little chapped, and his hair a little messy.

“Hey,” is what he chooses, his own tone sounded a little off. There’s an awkward space between you two on the bench.

“How have you been?” You ask, your eyes kind of darting any and everywhere, unable to hold his gaze for too long.

His lip trembles as he sighs heavily, “Not the best,” he says honestly. You nod slowly, agreeing with him.

Somedays you’re fine. You go through your day and normal routine of spin classes and painting, cuddling Sushi, and going to bed early. Other days have been horrible—up late unable to sleep due to stress and crying, no productivity in sight. While you and Taehyung have texted over these last couple weeks checking in on each other, being in front of him right now feels like there’s a spotlight on you and you’re scared to fuck up. You haven’t been ready to talk until now, but now you’re here and going mute.

“Listen Y/N—“

“Tae—“

You speak at the same time to which you both smile at each other.

“You go first,” you offer, still feeling like you may chicken out of what you actually need to say to him.

He nods once, biting on his lip nervously, “Y/N I’ve been thinking the last couple weeks and um,” he pauses taking in a deep breath, “I realize I fucked up so bad. I thought about what you said and you’re right, I should have never assumed that you would have been okay with moving and never talking about it with you first…”

As his voice slightly weakens as he continues to talk, it only breaks your heart even more. You have to tell yourself not to cry.

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you at times and I always thought if I could give you nice things, take you out to nice dinners.. that it would somehow make up for the time we’ve lost over the years, but now I see that’s not what you needed at all.”

You now have tears streaming down your cheeks—god, if only he recognized this sooner, maybe this wouldn’t have fallen apart the way it did.

“I just love you so much and I get it if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” you watch a tear fall from his cheek, “But I just want you to know that I never intended on hiding anything from you and I’m sorry that I did. It was never my intention to hurt you and put you in a hard position, I just—fuck,” he stops, tugging on the roots of his hair. “I’m fucking sorry for everything Y/N, I just can’t move on and make this move if you hate me for the rest of your life.”

Your face falls and you chest feels like it’s cracked open. You quickly close the space between you two, placing a hand gently on his face so he would look you in the eyes.

“Taehyung I could never, ever hate you,” you tell him truthfully, “I have loved you for so long and I don’t think I’ll stop anytime soon…”

He nods in your hands, relishing in your gently grip. He doesn’t say anything else, so you take it as your time.

“I did and still do feel hurt about you keeping this from me,” you pause, dropping your hands, “I know that this had to have been a hard decision but the fact you left me out of it isn’t okay and I’m glad you recognize that… and you’re right, I never cared about the jewelry and the dinners and the flowers and wine, all I ever wanted was just you and me, against the world,” he chokes out a deep sob at your words, breaking your heart all over again.

“I just, I truly can’t leave behind what I’ve worked for and the goals I want to accomplish here,” you shake your head, “It’s just not fair to me, but that doesn’t mean I will ever hate you or stop loving you.”

He nods slowly as he takes in all of your information, his breath shakes as he breathes out.

“Taehyung,” you brace yourself, “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

He looks at you with a panicked expression as he mutters a hm?

“I lied to you too about something,” your cadence is slow as you look down, picking at a loose piece of skin on your thumb, “I didn’t go home when I left your place after our fight.”

His eyebrows deeply furrow and you can see his brain working in overtime. Taehyung’s a smart man and it doesn’t take him long to piece together what you’re saying.

“You went to his place, didn’t you? Jungkook? Seokjin’s student?” His jaw slightly clenches as he says it. You nod to confirm, feeling uncomfortable with how he's framed his words. “Jesus fucking Christ Y/N,” he suddenly stands up from the bench, another stressed pull of his hair, “We get into one fight and you run off to fuck someone who is basically your student?”

“What?” You fight back, “No—no,” you rush out, though your heart sinks given you’re lying at this very second while trying to tell the truth. “Taehyung no, he’s just a friend I swear.”

He turns back to you, eyes narrowing at you, “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me nothing happened with your fucking friend then? Is that why you lied to his father about knowing who he was?”

You stare at him with your lips slightly parted, your heart thumping deep within your chest, “We kissed,” you whisper, wincing at your words internally.

“Is that it?” He asks with a tone that’s a mix of anger and desperation.

There’s a lump in your throat and you realize that you truly are a coward and can’t tell him with words, so you do what a coward would do and shake your head. An entire new wave of shame enters your body now that you’re sat in front of Taehyung. His face falls, the line officially crossed. There’s no going back in this relationship. His jaw is unsteady as he fights whatever emotions are brewing inside him.

“I need to go,” he says looking around the empty park. He loves you, he really does—but right now he can’t look at you. Your fight may have unofficially ended things between you two, but the fact you ran to Jungkook for comfort is what breaks his heart. What did Jungkook have, that Taehyung didn’t?

“Taehyung,” you stand up trying to stop him from walking away, “Please can we—“

“No Y/N,” he says, springing away from your grip that you had on his shirt, “We can’t.”

It’s the last thing he says as he walks away. It’s feels almost a little too poetic. Not only is he leaving this city, but he’s leaving you here in it. Alone and heartbroken. Almost like how it was going to end up the entire time.

⏤

It’s another week until you make it back into the studio in person. You’ve camped away in your apartment with Sushi for long enough—Sana, Seokjin, and others worried about you and your absence. You’ve had a lot of time to reflect as you been alone. You’ve been able to gather your thoughts and understand your rights versus wrongs.

You haven’t seen or spoken to Taehyung since the other week ago in the park. You’ve attempted to call him a couple times to see if any peace can be amended, but to no avail. It’s been a weird transition for you—going from having everything in your life in order to everything blowing up in front of you so fast. Of course you’re sad, angry, frustrated, annoyed, and more. Your emotions were all over the place the last couple weeks. You had yet to feel closure with Taehyung which was killing you on the inside. You just hoped that he would eventually come around before he moved. You had no idea when he was leaving—but you needed to see him one last time before he goes.

You’ve also been reflecting on the common denominator of the blow up of your life in the last two months. Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook came into your life full speed unafraid to crash into the brick wall in front of him. You know that you let your feelings for him get out of control but you also knew that wasn’t exactly something you could control. Consistently, he was just always there when you seemingly needed company. He says the right things, understands you, hears and listens to you. You’ve never had a connection with someone like that so quickly. However, he’s disappeared from your life almost as fast as he came in it. He checked in on your one more time after the first time, only this time you ended up responding, telling him that you were okay and just working from home. You weren’t fine, but the latter was true.

Which is why you’re shocked when you come in on Tuesday morning to find him sitting on the floor outside your studio. You look around and listen in carefully—Seokjin isn’t even here yet and you came in early on purpose. It’s been your routine to avoid people—mainly Jungkook himself. You come in around 7 AM and leave by 3 PM, sneaking out before anyone would notice you were here.

“J-Jungkook?” You ask, unable to believe that he’s here at this time.

He looks up from his phone looking a little startled. He stands quickly, brushing his hands off on his sweatpants.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, keeping a distance between you two. You feel a little insecure in your paint-stained denim shorts and white t-shirt that you actually slept in last night.

He opens his mouth quickly, “I just,” he pauses closing his eyes for a moment, “I just wanted to see to you. I missed you," he admits a little shyly.

Your hands go clammy, heart quickening, but you’re nodding, silently agreeing with him. He steps aside to let you unlock your studio space, the sun already bright shining in. He follows in behind you, closing the door for privacy. You set down your bag on the small couch, watching him intently as he looks around. If there’s been one positive about your absence, it’s been how much work you’ve got done.

You’ve finished approximately seven paintings in three weeks, an eight almost finished, which means you’ll finish just in time for the final exhibition next weekend. As much as you love apprenticeship life, you were more than ready for something new.

“What do you think?” You approach Jungkook from behind as he stares at the finished paintings along the wall you’ve been hanging up to dry completely.

“They’re exquisite,” he says with his mouth slightly agape, “A little sad,” he adds.

He’s staring at Drowning for the Sake of Drowning and Forward—a black and white charcoal piece of a female figure, hunched over with her face away, clearly distressed about something. You named in Forward in hopes that you can soon move past the stage of hiding and crying away alone. You don’t even realize Jungkook’s looking at you as you stare at the piece a little too long.

“I’ve been worried about you.”

You look at him when he breaks the silence, his eyes indeed looking confused, anxious, a little sad.

“I know,” you say weakly. He turns around to face you, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off in a rush—“I’m so sorry Jungkook.”

He looks taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion, “F-for what?”

You’re confused as to why he’s confused, “I..” You pause licking your lips since they’re dry from you picking at them nervously, “For one I’m sorry for not being responsive. I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess. I came to you when I needed comfort but I feel like it came across that I was taking advantage of you in those moments—I don’t want you think that I was just trying to sleep with to make me feel better—“

“Is that what you think?” He cuts you off, stepping towards you.

You don’t move, your feet frozen in place, “Well.. yeah?” You pause, “I don’t know I just didn’t know how to talk to you after what happened and with Taehyung I just—“

“Hey, hey,” he steps forward again, his hands grabbing the side of your face. God, his presence and touch were so comforting, “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” his voice is low and steady, “I’ve been so worried that something happened to you and I wanted to help but I knew that you wanted space. And for fucksakes, don’t ever say sorry for something like that Y/N,” he breathes out heavily and you almost feel tears spring in the corner of your eyes. You grab onto his wrists to steady yourself.

“Jungkook I just feel like my whole life has been a shitshow the past couple months and I don’t know how to fix it,” your voice falls off, unsteady and unconfident.

He shakes his head slightly, “Y/N you don’t have to ‘fix’ anything,” he says, “Life isn’t linear, we all have shitty times and we all have good times,” he pauses, “What’s important is how you deal with those things… shutting yourself off isn’t a way to deal with it,” his words almost have a humorous tone and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself. He looks at you confused again before asking what?

“You just always know what to say. It's annoying.”

He laughs to himself, his hands moving away from your face to pull you into a hug. You return it happily, forgetting how nice his body feels against yours.

“Thank you,” you mumble to him.

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

⏤

Your heels clank against the hardwood, feeling like it sounds similar to bricks being thrown into a dumpster as you feel extra sensitive to noises today. You’ve just entered the art exhibition that resides in a large gallery building downtown closer to the city. All the art has been transported over the last few days from all different departments. From Seokjin’s, to Park Kihyun’s, sculptors to oil-based paintings, to everything in between.

You had yet to find where they displayed your artwork, going through the gallery slowly by yourself taking in everyone’s work one at a time. Again, your steps are heavy, anxiety rushing through your veins. This was always one of the worst parts of being an artists—displaying your pieces for everyone to critique and pick apart. Unlike the student’s art that was being displayed, you weren’t getting a grade but you still felt tremendous pressure for people to like your work. Art was all about getting people to like what you put out, which was much easier said than done.

You run into your usual lunch crew; Lisa, Jisoo, and Yugyeom—sans Jungkook. You wondered where he was.

“Y/N,” Lisa gives you a quick hug, “When did you get here?”

“Like, ten minutes ago,” you tell her.

“Have you seen your pieces?” She says quickly, almost too quickly.

“No, why?” You respond in panic, “Did something happen to them?”

Jisoo then laughs, “Nothing happened… they’re amazing. There was some man who was asking around for you, seemed to be important.”

Your shoulders relax at the word of nothing bad happening to your pieces, but more anxiety creeping into your skin about the latter information. You let them know you’ll go check everything out soon, still wishing to look around before you found your own. You had looked at them enough the last few weeks—you needed a change of scenery.

You walk into a smaller room where a particular name catches your eye. Jungkook’s artwork is in display with Yugyeom's. You wonder if they asked for that on purpose, a smile growing on your face as you stare at his work.

Jungkook’s art works similar to yours—clean lines, realistic, the only difference is he utilizes a lot more color than you ever would. It matches him well though—he’s vibrant and commands attention in any room he walks into. One piece in particular catches your eye—Grapejuice Blues.

It’s white sheets—similar to the ones on his bed—and a large, dark rouge staining them as a wine glass lays in the background. It’s almost painfully simple but it could easily be mistaken for a photograph. The familiar stir in your tummy occurs and you have to fight a smile.

When you leave the alcove where Jungkook’s works reside, you decide to make it your mission to find your work. It doesn’t take you much longer, though you stop dead in your tracks when you do. Is this who Jisoo was talking about?

You’d recognize his frame and head of hair through a crowd of hundreds. But there isn’t a crowd of hundreds and it’s definitely him—his tailored pants and dress shirt gives it away. He’s also holding what looks like a bundle of flowers. Your heart swells as you approach him.

“Taehyung?” You ask. He turns around immediately, his warm eyes meeting yours, “What are you doing here?”

He smiles slightly, looking down awkwardly at the flowers in his arms. He hands them over to you, “It’s been in my Google calendar for months, I didn’t want to miss it.”

You heart thumps, but you’re a little confused, “Aren’t you mad at me?”

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. You gladly return it, not caring if the flowers between you are squished a little.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him genuinely. It feels good to see him.

“Of course,” his voice is deep as you pull away from him, “I was hoping I could run into you so I could give you this,” out of his pant pocket, he pulls out a folded up piece of paper. Your brows furrow as he holds it out for you to grab.

“What’s this?” You ask him, taking it hesitantly. You start to unfold it before he stops you.

“Don’t read it here—that’s my only request,” he laughs, his boxy smile peaking through a little bit. “Listen I have to run into the office this evening so I gotta go, but I’m glad I could see your work. It’s beautiful.”

“Wait Taehyung,” you speak quickly, “I’m confused—when are you moving? We should talk…”

He gives you a straight smile and you can tell he’s holding himself together for public. You are too.

“Everything’s in there. We can talk soon,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek delicately, “I’ll love you forever.”

He gets lost in the crowd as he walks away from you and whatever type of note he’s written you feels a thousand pounds in your hand. Your feet are about to pick you up to leave, giving it feels like you're heart was a glass castle and it was completely shattered. You suddenly felt all too claustrophobic surrounded by the art and people.

You turn on your heel but this time you nearly run smack dab into someone. It’s a man who is dressed nicely but also has a touch of that specific art touch to him.

“Are you Miss Y/N?” He says as you take a step back from him. You’re staring up at this random man, unable to find your voice.

“Uh,” you pause, “Y-yeah, w-who are you?” Your throat is dry. You need to get out of here.

“I’m Min Yoongi,” he speaks confidently, “I’m an art curator at a contemporary gallery in Gangnam, I was hoping to get your information to set up an interview. I was recommended to take a look at your work, but obviously I needed to see before I jumped to any type of deal. But I think your pieces are superb and I think I have some clients who would be interested in your work.”

Your eyes widen, your breath taken away from you. And there it is again—life not being fucking linear. Two seconds again you felt on the verge of a panic attack, paper heavy in your hand and now you’ve forgotten about any of that as you speak to this Min Yoongi.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was observing the interaction from a distance, out of sight from either one of you. You look angelic in the white dress on your frame; it’s short, fitted in all the right places with an off the shoulder bodice. While Jungkook necessarily didn’t fit into the mold of his family, he was lucky to be apart of the Jeon family name. His father had connections everywhere. Jungkook wanted to help you as much as he could since he knew that if any apprentice here deserved an art career, it was you.

Jungkook is currently staring at the final piece you had finished last week, a small smile growing on his face as he takes it in. It’s an odd, more abstract piece from you. The use of color was what really struck Jungkook as different for you. It’s a human heart shaped out of orange tiger lilies. Given his dress shirt was rolled up on his forearms, he looks down at his own tiger lily tattoo and he swears his heart leaps from his chest. He couldn’t put a label on what the relationship with you was, but he knew that you were special to him.

When he glances back to where you stood with Min Yoongi, you’re gone. His eyebrows furrow, taking once last glance at your pieces before his feet carry him to find you.

You’ve found solace outside, the warm air comforting on your exposed arms and legs. The flowers he gave you are beside you on the ledge you jumped up on to sit. Your hands shake as you read through Taehyung’s letter; fighting tears, smiling, and laughing through it all.

It takes Jungkook about 10 minutes to find you and when he does, he can tell you’re upset. He hesitates going up to you, but you look like you needed a hug. You don’t even notice Jungkook approach you as you’re sat with your head in your hands, the letter read and laying on the other side of you. You’re not crying—thank god—but you’re feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions running through your veins right now.

You're excited about the prospect of working for a gallery, wondering who exactly recommended Min Yoongi to come to the exhibit and look at your pieces. You're sad at the fact yours and Taehyung's relationship has come to its finality. It's weird having such contrasting emotions going through you, each one fighting for your attention.

When you see a pair of black dress shoes appear in your vision, you slowly look up to find Jungkook looking at you longingly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. He takes your breath away in his black dress shirt and checkered cigarette pants.

“Hey,” he says simply. You don’t even think as you pull him by his arm into a bear hug as he settles between your legs. He laughs as you do so, hugging you back tightly, resting his head on your exposed shoulder, “You okay?”

You shake your head, “Yes,” you say but then, “No—yes, I don’t know,” you groan into him, inhaling his scent. Your hands meet behind him around his waist as you squeeze him tightly.

Taehyung’s not mad at you.

Taehyung loves you. And he always will.

He says he hasn’t reached a place of full forgiveness yet.

But he knows that you have a right to be mad at him.

He’s moving at the end of summer.

He wants you to reach out with anything you need.

He acknowledges that you two have grown into differences over the last five years.

But he will always love you and he’s grateful for you.

You know you’ll always love him too.

You pull away from Jungkook slightly, thankful for his presence right now. He’s the best drug you've ever tried—warm and comforting—addicting and easy to get lost into.

“Your work is beautiful Jungkook,” you tell him honestly, trying to get your mind off of the things bothering you. Today was a happy day.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he responds slyly with a nose scrunch and you pinch his butt, “Quit it,” he laughs, pulling you off the ledge you’re sat on.

“What are you doing?” You whine as he pulls you to him, his hands resting on your waist.

“We're gonna dance,” he says simply as he pulls you flush against him.

“Why?” You laugh as he begins to sway, your hands finding their way around his neck.

“To make you feel better.”

“How do you know I don’t feel good?” You fight back.

“Because I know you,” he pauses, “And I know what you look like when you’re happy and when you’re sad.”

You feel your face get hot, a small smile growing on your face, “Well then what else do you know about me?”

“Hmm,” he muses, “I know what you sound like when you like something,” he raises an eyebrow at you as you two continue to sway with no music or anything. You roll your eyes, a laugh emitting from you. “There it is,” he pinches your side as you swat away his hand with another laugh. He loves your laugh.

“Stop it,” you tell him, stepping away from him some, your hands interlaced with his in between your bodies.

“Feel better?”

You shrug, “A little,” you say, studying his face. His expression doesn’t seem satisfied so you say as he scrunches his nose, “Yes, I do. God you’re so impossible.”

He chuckles back at you, kissing your knuckles sweetly, “What are friends for?”

“You’re really running this ‘friend’ thing into the ground aren’t you?”

He freezes for a moment, chewing on his lip ring, “Only until you’re ready.”

You mirror him as he readjusts your hands in his, “Ready for what?”

He studies your face intently, a small smile growing across his features, "You know."

You think you know exactly what he means. You tell him you do and he smiles in content, placing a kiss on your forehead through his smile. If there's one thing you're for sure about, it's that Jeon Jungkook is indeed, very special to you too.

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acotar-taylorsversion · 2 months

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So for some reason I got lost in the Elucien side of tik tok and, of course, they are convinced they are endgame. They are the ones who think Elain avoids Lucien because she’s trying to suppress her attraction to him and what not, but I just think that’s silly. Even though I agree with them about how we don’t know what’s going on in her head, I just find that theory ridiculous, especially when you look at the overall text that surrounds Elain and Lucien.

I am an Elriel supporter and have been since 2017, but I always have that “what if” in the back of my mind because we all know Sarah can just completely forget about what she’s written and do something totally different. My biggest fear is that I won’t ever accept Lucien. Like, I only really support him when I read those tiny moments when he’s talking about or with Vassa, because I can see that. But I’m scared I won’t ever accept Lucien or Elucien because of what we know.

I’ve never truly connected with Lucien. I always saw him as the annoying one. I never could understand why everyone finds him attractive or charming. I moved on quickly when we learned about his history, it didn’t really affect me. He’s just annoying to me. And I know he’s not a bad guy, like I don’t hate him. I just don’t care for him. I literally forgot all about his character in acomaf until he showed up again to kidnap Feyre, and I was totally dumbfounded when he said Elain was his mate. It was the most random thing to me. I remember reading that part 3 times because I thought I was crazy. And I was so so happy when he volunteered to go search for Vassa because that meant he was going to be gone for a while in acowar, and then I forgot about him again unless he was brought up. He’s just a very forgettable character to me and it’s going to take a lot for my opinion to change. Like I honestly hate that someone like Elain got mated to someone like him. It’s the most random thing.

Like 3 brothers x 3 sisters just makes so much sense to me and it’s so perfectly even and symmetrical. 2 brothers x 2 sisters, 1 sister x random guy, 1 brother x random girl just doesn’t make sense at all.

I don’t think I could enjoy the series anymore if Sarah has planned for Elucien and gwynriel all this time because why spend all that time building up Elriel? And I’m sorry, but people who say that they didn’t see Elriel moments as romantic clearly didn’t read them. I know we interpret things differently, but y’all are just delusional if you can’t see that.

I’ll go ahead and say it. The main reason I support vassien is because it gives Lucien a happy ending while elain is free to love who she wants and not who she is told to by the cauldron or whatever. I hate that she is being forced to make a decision that she should never have to make. And it’s not like we don’t have a reason to support vassien, there are some cute little moments between Vassa and Lucien. But even, with a vassien pov, I don’t think I would enjoy Lucien’s part. Another thing, I could totally see him dying. I’ve always thought he would seeing how he was becoming feyre’s friend and what not. That usually happens to that type of character in fantasy stories.

Who knows, though 🤷🏻‍♀️. I’m just over all these things with the fandom here lately. From the doxx threats, forcing artists to quit creating art for us because of the hate they receive, the teasing from Bloomsbury, and this stupid ship war, I’m just mentally exhausted from it.

Sorry for the rant, guys. I’ll be more positive next time, hopefully lol 😆

Hope everyone is doing good after all that’s happened ♥️

#acotar #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #anti el*cien #anti e/lucien #sarah j maas #just some late night thoughts #i hope it gets better #i’m not gonna lie #I’ll be heartbroken if Elriel doesn’t happen #it’s hard for me to like Lucien #i just don’t see it #I’d rather read an entire novel about Eris before Lucien and I don’t like Eris #at least Eris is interesting though #I think he’s kinda like Rhys and hides his true self from everyone a lot

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ffc1cb · 3 months

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new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle.

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right.

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation.

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change.

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down.

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

#salt talks

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bvidzsoo · 10 months

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Nowhere we won’t go

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Word count: 27, 401

Summary: Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, “She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.

Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

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ladyveronikawrites · 3 months

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LOST IN THE CONCRETE JUNGLE CHAPTER ONE Bad Omens x Star Wars Pairing: Zebastian (Noah Sebastian) x F!Reader CW: pet play if you squint, oral (male receiving) Summary: You are the perfect senator's daughter- next in line to become his aide to learn everything about the Galactic Senate. But on your 21st birthday, your perfect life changes forever when the mysterious masked man you met at the nightclub was not who you thought he was. A/N: POV switching from second to first occurs often in the story. Shout out to my amazing beta team @mysticdoodlez, @cyrusunderscore, and @nerdraging4point0 your insight and cheerleading has been invaluable. Word Count: 2k Crossposted: Wattpad & A03 Cast list

May the Force be with you✨

You wake up to your wrist comm beeping. It’s your best friend in the entire galaxy; Skylar, messaging you to wish you a happy birthday.

*BEEP BEEP*

_____________________

Sky: Wake up, Bitch it’s your birthday! LET’S PARTY!

Sky: WAKE

Sky: UP

SKY: Remember the plan for tonight, 2300.

___________________

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, ripping the covers off the bed and stumbling into your en suite bathroom. You look in the mirror at your reflection and inwardly groan. You rub your tired eyes and splash cold water on your face in a feeble attempt to wake yourself. It doesn’t work. You hurriedly apply makeup to your face to look presentable in front of your family.

It’s your 21st birthday and on each and every birthday your family makes a big deal about it, especially your father. You are his only child of course. His precious little princess. You aren’t so little anymore. And you don’t like being called ‘princess’.

You rush around like a tornado; getting dressed for your usual birthday breakfast. When you open the door you hear your parents calling for you.

“Happy birthday, sweety!” Your parents say in unison.

“Thanks,” you feign enthusiasm for their benefit; not your own.

You can feel your parents' excitement ooze from them as they present you with your birthday breakfast. It makes you want to vomit. But you know they love you.

Your wrist comm beeps again to remind you of today's martial arts class. You thank the stars above that you have something to distract you from your parents- at least for a little while. You quickly shovel food down your throat, very ungracefully of course, while apologizing to your parents for leaving the table early. Your father still has strict rules about eating together as a family, because it's your birthday so he lets it slide this time.

When you return home you find the house to be empty. As you roll your eyes, you think about how your parents are always busy- even on your birthday. Why can't I just get one day to spend time with them? You may find their expression of love for you to be suffocating, but they are the only family you have. You shake the thought from your head and sprint up the stairs to prepare for the evening. Unsurprisingly, you find a light gray dress lying on your bed. Gray is your family color which seeps into everything your family does: what you wear, the color of the walls and furniture is gray, to the car your family travels in. The dress is made from the finest cotton from Naboo. Despite its simple high neck and long sleeves– which your father deems modest–, it will still show off your curves. After a quick shower, you curl your hair and put light makeup on to compliment the outfit.

As you ascend the staircase to the main level of your family’s elegant Coruscant apartment, you feel your heart flutter with anticipation. Remember the plan: get through this party, sneak out undetected, and meet up with Sky. What could go wrong? A warm smile spreads across your face as you catch a glimpse of your parents laughing with someone you don’t recognize. As you make your way to your parents, more and more unfamiliar people are filling your home. You wonder if they are here for you, or to get closer to your father, the senator. As you approach your father’s side, you plaster on a perfectly crafted smile. As your father introduces you to the gentlemen, your whole body freezes as you force yourself to shake the man’s hand and not recoil in fear. A fuzzy memory from your childhood pops into your head of this man and your father in his office. Lots of yelling, broken glass, and amber liquid on the ground.

The last thing you remember is a pair of deep brown eyes; quiet and watching. As you release your hand, you automatically respond with a forced “Thank you.” Your father leans over and whispers in your ear that he has important business to take care of. You nod expectantly to hide your rolling eyes and slyly wipe your hands on your dress from the awful encounter. As your parents go their separate ways your stomach reminds you that you've barely eaten. You drink, eat, and dance to pass the time as the sun begins to set.

Suddenly, a loud noise from upstairs tears you from your rhythmic trance.

You look around to see that everyone is dancing and enjoying themselves. You must have been the only one to hear it. You casually and cautiously make your way to the stairs. You are only a few steps from the top of the staircase when you hear the office door creak open and your father’s intimidating voice fills the hallway.

“Get Mikkah in here NOW!”

Without a second thought, you sprint the remaining distance to your room just as someone leaves the office. Finally safe, you collapse against the door for a few breaths before running around your room like a Gryffus without a head to pack your “go-bag”. Just as you are about to put your hand on the doorknob, you hear the familiar thud of Mikkah’s signature leather boots against the marble steps. Mikkah has been your father’s bodyguard for years now. He’s not much older than you and has been with your family since you were a girl.

You exhale the curse that was forming on your lips and shut the lights off in your room. You hold your breath as his footsteps near. The office door slams shut. Mikkah must be pissed. You pray to the stars above that you will survive this night. Cautiously, you open the door and peer out to see the hallway is empty. In utter relief, an audible sigh slips from your lips. “Fuck that was close.”

When the world remains still, you dash down the steps. The music gets louder as you feel the vibrations that make you quicken your pace. The crowd is a sea of people that anyone can easily disappear into. Maybe this will work, you think to yourself. You push your way through the enormous crowd and, in what feels like an eternity, finally, you see the finish line. The front door. The same one that holds your ticket to a night of questionable choices, but towards fun nonetheless. As your hand reaches out to touch the cold door knob, you hear hurried smacks of leather ricochet off marble steps as many pairs of boots come rushing to the bottom. As you turn to leave, the hair on your neck suddenly stands straight as a beskar spear. Bright and burning green eyes pierce your soul. You immediately freeze on the spot as time slows around you. Your heart stops too, thinking you’re about to get caught, but you’ve already put your plans in motion, and nothing stops you now. You flash an apologetic smile to those burning eyes; to Mikkah, then dash into a nearby turbolift with only one thought- freedom.

As you approach the apartment complex's lobby, you see the one person you desperately need right now; Skylar. She is dressed from head to toe in black including her eyeshadow and lipstick. Her beaming bright smile and blue hair contrast the darkness in her attire.

“Cute shoes,” she scoffs as she peers at your feet. You changed into soft shoes so you could run faster. You shrug at her comment. “You should have seen Mikkah’s face when he caught me leaving,” you shove Skylar’s shoulder playfully as you leave the building. “Can’t wait to hear all about your little escapade!” Skylar beams as you both get in the air taxi.

It starts to rain as you descend the many levels of Coruscant. You have always been within the surface of the city planet. Nerves grip your stomach as tales from your childhood ring a warning in your head.

“Hey, buddy can you put up the privacy screen for my girl here?” Skylar yelled at the driver. He grunted in response but raised the glass partition.

“Sky-”

“It’s fine, get dressed back here. He won’t be able to see you, I promise.”

Sky squeezes your hand. The gentle pressure helps you calm down immensely. She always knows how to help center you.

“I can turn away if you want me to?” A playful smirk crosses her lips. She knows your answer before you even have the chance to open your mouth. She turns away still holding your hand. You squeeze her hand back before you let it slide off your shoes. You shimmy out of your dress and quickly slide on the new dress that is sure to catch some eyes tonight. It sparkles like the twilight sky; dark charcoal with radiant constellations of silver sequins. You tug your dress down your thigh for comfort and cross your ankles, nervously. Goodbye, father's little obedient girl, and hello to the new me…well at least for tonight that is.

During the ride, your eyes slowly drift towards the scene outside the window as Skylar's voice fades in the background. Too bewitched by the view to pay attention to her droning on about the men she has been sleeping with, you greedily drink up the city soaked in a neon glow and graffiti-covered concrete walls. The dilapidated scene starkly contrasts the immaculate city on the surface.

It’s dangerous down at this level. You’ve heard rumors that no polic force ventures to this level of the planet. What if someone finds out you are the senator’s daughter? What if you get taken? You desperately try to shake the thoughts from your head.

All too soon the car comes to an abrupt halt in a dark alleyway only illuminated by the bright full moon. Your eyes make out a long line of people; humans, androids, Twi'leks, Togrutas, and species you've never seen before standing by a large building with synthesized music emanating from its red double doors.

"Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, " Sky beams as she takes your hand and pulls you from your thoughts and the taxi.

I stand tall overlooking the crowd of my second-story office. Head to toe in my signature black outfit. In the privacy of my nightclub, The Concrete Jungle, I don’t need to wear a mask to conceal my identity. The lowlife-my people- know who I am. They are safe to be whomever they desire.

Tonight I get to watch them while they are completely oblivious. I hum the song that reverberates through the wall until a knock on the door rudely interrupts me.

"Come in," My voice comes out sharp like the Mandalorian Kal fastened to my belt. Ever fought a Mandalorian? No? I stabbed him right under the helmet with his own knife…

"Sir, your father is dead. "

I curse inwardly keeping my face still as beskar. Hot anger pulses through my body and I slam my fist onto the window.

"Call Nashira. Now," A low growl escapes my lips.

"Of course."

When a knock on the door finally comes, I turn from the window to see Madam Lyra leading a crawling female Twi'lek on a leash.

"Thank you, Madam Lyra," I say as she hands me Nashira’s signature leather leash. I nod and Madam Lyra dismisses herself from the office.

With a silent command, I point to the rug on the floor. Without hesitation, the Twi'lek crawls on all fours to the thick furry rug beside the desk. I add another finger pointing down and Nashira kneels.

"That's my good pet," I chuckle softly as Nashira nuzzles against my outstretched hand. I gently caress her lekku with slender tattooed fingers. This causes a soft moan to slip from her mouth. Her bright yellow eyes shimmer with desire.

"So needy for my touch," I tsk.

I sit down on the leather desk chair and begin rubbing against the growing erection that tightens my pants. Nashira crawls between my legs, as I pull out my throbbing cock. I tap two fingers on my pet's cheek, the signal for "open" and she does just that. She licks and kisses my cock teasingly.

But tonight I am in no mood for games as I clutch both of Nashira's lekku and pry her petite mouth open. I push my thick hard cock into her warm mouth until she gags- a warning and punishment. Her eyes squeeze shut as she adjusts to the invasion. I slowly withdraw from her mouth, and before my tip reaches her lips she lets out a small whimper. I slam my cock into the back of her throat and she starts to suck.

Pressure builds in my core as I slump back in my chair. Nashira quickens her pace, sloppy and hungry. My core tenses and eyelids get heavy. On the edge of euphoria, a flash of light catches my eye; stealing me of my bliss. Frustrated, I push Nashira off, and point to the door, silently commanding her to leave. Nashira scampers to her feet and bows her head lowly before leaving the room.

Once again alone, I approach the window in search of the distraction: A human girl in a short gray dress. Under the strobe lights, her shimmering dress reflects a kaleidoscope of color. She is dancing in the middle of the crowd, arms swinging above her head immersed in complete abandon.

Craving the rush, I start stroking my cock as she sways her hips to the song's beat. My jaw clenches as I tighten my grip. My thighs begin to tense and I rest my free arm against the window for stability.

I stroke my length faster and faster in tempo with the pulsing beat of the music below. On the edge of climax, I suddenly make eye contact with the girl in that damn dress. Euphoria ripples through my body in waves as I cum all over the window.

“Fuck.” I sigh as I pull my pants back on. As my mind floats back to reality; my vision is filled with her; this obvious outsider. My new plaything. My heartbeat quickens at the thought of her. And I stalk out of my office with only one thought on my mind- find out everything about her.

tysm for reading❤️🗡️ see you next wednesday for chapter two

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smoooothoperator · 10 months

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Beautiful Stranger

03: The Name Of The Game

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 3.6k

warnings: fluff, too much fluff. flashbackks are on italics

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a/n: hello beautiful people! here we have this duo again. This are getting a little messy, right? don't worry, the best is about to come soon ;)

Every way of feedbask is very welcomed

🖌️

Don't think about him. Don't make a suspicious noise that would make him come. Don't. Don't. Don't. But those god damn blue eyes were staring back at me, so alive and so real.

"Uhg, no" I groaned, closing the sketchbook.

When I woke up I went as fast as I could to my art room, thinking that what I drew last night was some type of dream. That I was dreaming that I was drawing his eyes.

But no, they were real and captured on those thick papers, draws of his eyes from every angle I saw them.

"You are so stupid, Lily" I groaned, face palming myself.

I wanted to tear off the pages. But… those eyes were so beautiful, and they were looking at me.

"God, you are acting like a teenage" I groaned, closing the sketchbook and leaving it on the table. "So annoying"

I sighed, opening the window and looking at the sea. So close but so far at the same time. It's like the sea is calling me to go but I know that it won't be possible.

I grabbed my phone, playing soft music on the speaker, and focused on the empty canvas that was in front of me. I want to paint, but I don't know what. I want to do something since I can walk around the village or go to work, keeping my mind busy.

"What should I do with you?" I sighed, grabbing a pencil and taking a deep breath.

I sigh and let my hand work, moving all over the canvas.

Since I was little I always wanted to paint. My school notebooks were full of drawings. I secretly bought all the material I needed and hid it under the bed. I watched tutorials on the internet in the privacy of my bedroom.

I always did this alone.

"What the fuck?" I frowned when I saw what I was drawing. "No way, come on!"

It's as if my brain was letting my heart have the reins of my hands.

I groaned and grabbed an eraser, undoing everything that gave any type of hint about the crush of my brain.

"How can I be so ridiculous?" I sighed.

Baking is good, I don't have to draw someone, not even the guy next door with beautiful eyes… Stop!

"Oh dear Zeus, help me" I groan, tying my hair in a ponytail. "Not you, Aphrodite"

I always felt that every type of handmade thing was my specialty. I can draw, I can make jewelry, I can bake and cook. I would be a perfect housewife, just how my mother wanted.

Too bad I'm not that type of woman.

One of the things that really made me fall in love with Greece was the food. Those Mediterranean flavors were something addictive for me, and the pastry was something I needed to learn how to make.

"Shit…" I groaned, feeling the pain in my foot.

I shouldn't be standing up, if Logan knew he would come and push me to the couch immediately.

Logan, Logan, Logan… why the hell I can't stop thinking about him? Maybe it is the fact that he came running to check on me, worrying about me. Maybe my heart is saying that it’s a signal of some kind of fate.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous” I scoffed at myself. “Fate with him? Don’t make me laugh”

The angel in my shoulder was saying sweet things through my ear to my brain, trying to convince it that this was something new. I could hear how the devil in my other shoulder was getting in the argument too.

“I need air” I groan, going to the balcony and looking at the sea with some kind of sadness.

I wish I could be there, I wish I didn’t meet my neighbor, I wish none of this happened.

I wish…

“I wish you were never born!” she exclaimed, slapping my cheek, making the skin burn like if someone lightened a bonfire on ot. “You bring dishonor to this family!”

“But…” I mumbled, feeling the tears blurring my eyes. “Mom I don’t want to…”

“You have to” she stated, mad. I could see her eyes getting red with anger, how the vein of her neck was getting more visible as she tensed her jaw. “It will be in a week. You better not embarrass us more that you already did”

I gasped blinking quickly the tears, surprised by my own memory. I sniffled quickly, brushing the furtive tears that escaped my eyes and ran down my cheeks, making me sigh and hug myself.

No. Don’t get back there, Lily. You are better than this.

“You okay?” I heard him from the other side of the wall that separated the balconies.

I sigh and roll my eyes, closing them. It’s really impossible to not think about him.

“Are you crying? Are you in pain?” he kept asking, making me bite my lip.

“I’m okay, Logan” I said, more sharply than I wanted. “I’m just hating the fact that I can’t go to the beach because of this stupid bandage in my feet”

“I get it” he sighed.

I sigh and walk back inside the apartment, going around with the clutches. When I smelled that sweet scent coming from the oven I smiled, opening it and getting everything out of it.

I smiled proudly, looking at the perfectly made baklava and how the scent of it made my stomach growl in hunger. If you want to make a woman happy, give her her favorite meal.

I looked at the clock of the wall, biting my lip. I should make lunch, it's time for it. Morning went by pretty quick, thinking about a certain someone and trying to distract myself. It was good, refreshing. Something I really needed.

Peaky Blinders was playing in front of me, but I stopped it when I heard the front door opening.

"Hello?" I frown, looking at the front door, getting surprised to see Logan there. "Logan? What are you doing?"

"Do you have scissors?" he asked, walking inside the kitchen and placing the bag he brought on the table in front of me. "Oh, it smells nice, what is it?" he smiled pointing to the freshly made pastry.

"Baklava" I frown, following his movements with my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm searching for the scissors" he said, opening the drawers. "I swear I saw some yesterday… here!"

I frown, looking at him turning around with the scissors on his hand and walking towards me, sitting in front of me.

"Put your foot here" he said, patting his thigh.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I frown looking at him, confused.

"You want to go to the water, right?" he asked me, sighing. "After you told me you were bad because you couldn't go to the beach I went back to the medical centre to talk with the doctor"

"You did what?" I mumbled surprised. He really did that?

"I talked with him" he said. "With the help of Google Translate, of course, and I had him on the phone with a friend that is physiotherapist"

I looked at him and swallowed thickly. Why is a stranger doing such things for me? I'm sure he feels guilty, because it was his fault I am like this.

"The doctor said that it wasn't too swollen, he put the bandage to immobilise the ankle And my friend said that with injuries like that he likes to use elastic bandages that can be taken off" he explained with a smile, making me look at him. "So… that's why I'll cut the bandage and put this"

"You… you did this… for me?" I was surprised.

No one did this for me. No one cared for me like this.

"Yeah" he nodded, opening and closing the scissors with a smile. "So, before I cut this bandage… Can I eat?"

"What?" I frown, suppressing a laugh.

"Yeah, I didn't have lunch" he said. "And that… thing looks and smells delicious"

"It's a musaka" I said looking at my plate. "I have more on the fridge"

"Okay" he smiled and got up, going to the fridge and opening it.

He walked around my apartment like he was in his own house. If someone else walked inside my house and grabbed everything like that I would be annoyed, but he wasn't annoying me. There was something in my brain that didn't turn on the alarms.

"God, you really are an amazing chef" he said after warming the plate and grabbing a fork, sitting next to me. "See, another thing I know about you"

There was something about him that didn't annoy me. Maybe it was his smile, how it reached his eyes. He looked friendly, shameless, open-minded.

"Why are you doing this?" I frown, leaving the fork on my plate.

"Doing what?" he frowned, talking with his mouth full and then swallowing it. "Eating?"

"No. This" I frown, moving my hands between us and them to the scissors and the bag. "Why?"

"You said you wanted to go to the beach" he repeated. "And I want to take you to the beach. That's it"

"Yesterday you said that I shouldn't go" I frown. "God, you are confusing me, Logan!"

"I felt bad when I heard you cry" he sighed. "I don't like knowing people feel bad, or are angry because of me. For once I want to make someone happy, even if that means doing a simple thing as going to the beach"

I look at him and sigh, eating again in silence.

No one did something like that for me. No one wanted to gesture like that for me.

"Come on, Liliane" my mother said, standing at the door.

"I don't want to!" I cried softly.

"Ah… don't act like a baby" she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Things like that happen. Dogs die and you'll keep living"

"He was my best friend!" I cried, hugging the small plushie he loved.

"Stop being a crybaby and get dressed!" she exclaimed. "Your father is waiting for us! This is important, Liliane!"

"I said no!" I cried harder, hiding under the blankets.

No one tried to make me smile after crying. My father used to buy me things to make me shut up. My mother used to look at me disappointed.

"Thank you" I whisper, swallowing the lump that memory left in my throat. "For doing this"

"It's okay" he smiled. "I'm bored, anyway. Some adventure and fun wouldn't be bad, you know?"

I smile weakly and nod.

Right, he's bored and now I'm his way of getting rid of boredom.

🎮

I always hated to hear girls cry. It really made me sad.

When my sisters cried when we were kids I always felt like a punch in my chest and I always tried to do something to make them smile again. When my friends cried because a man broke their heart I was always there for them.

And hearing Lily sniffling made my chest hurt. I don't know what it is, I don't know what attracts me to her, but I feel like an invisible force pushing me to her.

It's not a crush.

Or maybe it is?

After all this time, being famous and having a lot of girls following me hoping that I would choose them, meeting a girl that doesn't know who I am and tries to avoid me, is something that makes me interested.

Hearing her music in the morning is something I would like to get used to. Or smelling the scent of the things she baked.

Okay, yeah. Maybe I do have a crush on the girl next door that I barely know about.

"You shouldn't keep your foot down" I said pointing at her ankle. "Come on, put it here"

"But…" she frowned, looking at my thigh.

"No buts" I interrupted her, patting my thigh.

She sighed and placed her leg on my thigh with the help of her hands, letting out a sigh of relief afterwards. I smiled looking at her, watching how her shoulders relaxed and how she ate in silence.

"See? It's fine, I don't bite" I said smiling.

Then I saw her smile, while rolling her eyes. But it was a smile. And I swear it was the most beautiful smile I have ever seen in my entire life.

"Okay, so this is the plan" I said after I finished eating. "I cut this thing, we put that thing and then we'll go to the beach"

"And you know how to put that thing?" she asked, pointing at the bag. "What's that, by the way?"

"Oh, it's an elastic bandage" I said, grabbing the box and showing it to her. "I bought it before coming here"

"You didn't have to…" she mumbled, and I could see the blush in her cheeks.

"You wanted to go to the beach, then we'll go to the beach" I said, smiling. "I'll take you there"

"On the scooter?" she frowned.

"Yeah" I nod.

"Oh god, no. I think I changed my mind, I like to stay here and do nothing" she nodded.

"Very funny" I laughed. "I'm serious, Lily. I'll take you to the beach and you'll get in the water"

"You promise?" she asked, blushing and trying to not look at me.

"I promise" I nodded.

She giggled softly, finishing her meal and then looking at the kitchen counter. I looked at where she was looking and I got up slowly, leaving her foot on the chair where I was sitting, and grabbed our plates to wash them on the sink, washing them.

"You want to try the baklava?" she asked me.

"Oh definitely" I laughed. "What is it made of?”

“Basically pistachio and syrup” she explained. “It’s nice”

“Okay, then I want some” I smiled, grabbing two small plates and putting the portions on it.

There was something about her that made me want to be here, taking care of her and giving her my attention. It was like she put a spell on me, making my mind clouded. I can’t even know when it happened, when my heart and brain decided that I wanted to help her and take care of her.

“Oh fuck, it’s delicious” I gasped with my mouth full of this delicacy.

“Thanks” she smiled.

When we finished the pastry I washed the dishes again, and then I sat in front of her, with her foot on my thigh. I washed my hands and then looked at her.

"Wait, you know how to put that bandage?" she asked me, stopping me before cutting the bandage.

"Eh…" I frown looking at the box. "No"

I looked at the instructions, but they were in Greek. She sighed and grabbed the box, her fingers touching mine, making me blush softly.

"Okay… Yeah, I get it" she nodded. "Cut the bandage, then I'll explain you how to put it"

"Okay" I nodded.

I started to cut the bandage slowly, placing my hand on her skin. It's soft, so soft. I heard her sighing relieved when the bandage started to leave her skin, leaving marks on it.

"God, so good" she groaned after her foot was free of bandage. "You have no idea how good it feels"

"I can tell" I nodded, watching her ankle. It's a little swollen, and purple because of the blood. "God… I'm sorry I made this to you"

"It's okay" she sighed.

I smile weakly at her and sigh, grabbing the box and opening it. I did everything she told me to do, wrapping it on her foot and making sure she couldn't move it.

"Now go get changed" I said. "I'll get changed too, okay?"

"Okay" she sighed, looking at the bandage in her ankle. "Wear comfortable shoes to drive"

"I won't drive" I frown. "We'll go on scooter"

"Yeah, how innocent you are if you think that I'll go on a scooter with you again" she laughed, making me roll my eyes. "I have a car, we'll go on it. Plus, I still have to use the crutches, it will be easy to wear them"

"Okay…" I sighed.

I walked out of her apartment to get changed. Thank god I searched on the Internet where I was coming and packed beach things.

I took a deep breath and started to get changed. But then I started to think…

What if someone sees me? What if they find me? We'll go to a beach with more people on it, right? If one of them knows who I am, I'm really fucked up. No, I can't go to the beach. I can't, I can't.

Why the hell do you do things without thinking first, knowing that you'll regret doing them, Lando?

"Hello?" I heard her knocking on my door. "Logan? Are you ready?”

“Eh…” I frown, being taken out of my thoughts. “Y-yeah”

I sighed, grabbing my backpack and hanging it on my shoulder. I opened the front door and I swear I nearly died. Lily was standing in front of me, wearing a baby blue summer dress and her hair tied on a braid that falls on her right shoulder.

God, please help me to control myself.

“Are you ready?” she asked me with a smile.

How can I say no to her?

“Yeah” I smiled weakly, getting out of the apartment. “Do you need help?”

“No…” she frowned, looking at the stairs, then she sighed and smiled weakly. “Please?”

I chuckled and nodded, going some stairs down and she grabbed my backpack and put it on her back. I felt her hands on my shoulder and how she took a step closer to my back. I’ll have to hold her thighs, her body close to mine.

God help me please.

“My car is there” she said, pointing to a white car that was near us.

Of course it was a car that screamed Greece vibes. She’s the representation of what every girl wants to have after watching those Mamma Mia movies.

“Cool car” I nodded, walking towards it with her still in my back.

“Very sarcastic” she said, patting my shoulder.

“No, I’m serious!” I laughed, placing her on the ground. “It’s a cool car for a place like this that have rocky roads near”

She chuckled and nod, walking to the backseats and leaving our bags there.

Why do I have that feeling of being comfortable seeing her do something as simple as that? God, I hate those feelings.

“Let’s go” she smiled, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Ehm… there’s a chance… to go to some type of small beach? Like… with not a lot of people in it?” I asked before starting the car.

“What?” she frowned, looking at me surprised. “Woah, woah… stop there you creep!”

“No! What? No! I’m not saying that” I exclaimed, understanding what she was thinking about. “It’s… well… I have agoraphobia”

Three lies already. Hoe can I be so fucking stupid?

“Oh… Oh!” she gasped. “And a beach full of people won’t help… I get it, yeah”

“Yeah” I smiled weakly.

“Oh, I know one” she smiled, grabbing her phone and putting the GPS on it.

I took a deep breath and started driving where the GPS said, parking where she told me. At this point I’m praying that she doesn’t discover that I have been lying to her since the start.

“Here we are” she smiled once we were in the sand.

Only a few people were there. And all of them were old people, women talking between them. I should be content with this.

I followed her, she was walking slowly to not hurt her foot, and then she placed her bag on the sand, taking her towel and laying it there. She took off her sundress, letting me see the white bikini she is wearing, and taking off the bandage.

How can she be so beautiful?

“Can you help me go to the water?” she asked me, looking back at me. “I promise I won’t swim, I’ll go until the water reaches my chest”

“I’ll go with you” I said, putting the towel down on the sand and taking off my shirt and shoes.

I felt her eyes on me, and it made me blush. Do I have a boner? No, maybe not yet.

“Come on” I said, holding her hands and helping her get up, trying to not look at her when she stood in front of me.

She walked slowly, groaning everytime she had to take a step with her bad foot. I just sighed and stood next to her, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and then my arm around her waist, helping her walk.

“Better?” I asked, hearing her sigh.

“Yeah” she nodded.

The moment her feet touched the cold water she sighed louder, making me smile. We walked slowly into the water, she was holding my shoulders and I was holding her waist.

"Good?" I asked her.

She nodded and took a deep breath, then I saw her close her eyes and get underwater, making me gasp.

"Lily!" I exclaimed, holding her close to me. "What the fuck was that!"

"I wanted to have the rest of my body wet" she frowned, holding my shoulders since I was hugging her waist.

We didn't say anything else. She was floating and I held her close to my body. We were silent, any word exchanged between us.

She licks her lips, making me look at them. They look… kissable-

No. Stop it.

"Hi" she whispered, her hands on my shoulders.

"Hi" I whisper back, looking into her eyes.

God, give me strength to not kiss her right now. Give me strength to not do something as stupid as kissing a stranger.

God, give me strength to not fall for her as hard as I'm already falling.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz

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ohmytomorrowisthursday · 1 year

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AOT characters in university

Hiii this is my first post like this. It is literally so unserious and silly please don’t take it personally if I roast ur fave. Some of these are soooo dumb but I hope u enjoy!

cw: drugs, weed, drinking

Floch: this dude is 100% in a frat. The guy who stands at the door decides who gets in. For the boys in absolutely every possible way. Has punched multiple holes through walls. Doesn’t talk in class, if he does his whole personality is based on being a frat boy for life. Finance major. Always wants to be ‘devil’s advocate’ in class debates. Says edgy shit just to get a rise out of people. Scared of Erwin. Posts thirst traps on instagram. Is part of the boxing club. Has never read a single page of any text book ever, just watches YouTube videos to learn.

Connie: You meet him during freshman orientation and he is now your ride or die. He’s outgoing and makes friends easily, but would 100% rather spend Friday nights playing video games and smoking weed with his friends instead of going to a party. Calls his mom often. Studying accounting because he wants to have a stable job. Makes lo-fi tracks and posts them on YouTube. Skips his morning classes because he refuses to get up for his 8am’s. He won’t plan anything but is always a good time when he comes out. Loves going for Korean barbecue. Loves watching reality tv and talking about it in the group chat.

Jean: Certified stressed and depressed. Definitely studying comp-sci even though he’d rather be in the arts. Is in your English class and even tho he complains about the work he still would rather write essays than look at his coding. Talks so much shit about the frats, still tried to join and never stops talking about them. Will get into a fight with Eren during frosh week. His mom also calls him all the time but he gets super embarrassed when she does. Brings all of his laundry home over break so that she can do it. Jean is always looking for a good time, he’s definitely planning nights out and trying to get the full college experience. Something embarrassing always happens when he goes out on the weekend and Connie and Sasha always make sure to remind him of it. The person you’d call for advice when you’re having a bad day.

Levi: Sick of it and annoyed. Philosophy major. Always debates in class and wins. You met him through Hange. You see him at the gym super late at night, between 11pm-1am when no one else is around. Hates big parties- especially frat parties- but always will text u asking how it is and if you want to leave. He likes to cook and invites you to come over to eat. Likes dressing nice for class. Uses black mechanical pencils and exclusively takes notes in black muji notebooks. Likes dark humour and will only talk in the group chat to add some sarcastic remark. Always drinking tea (duh) out of the same reusable mug. Likes going to low-key gatherings with his friends and playing card games and chess. Volunteers for the student food bank. Makes Spotify playlists. Has insomnia and will answer every and all texts you send, no matter what time it is. LOVES to talk shit and roast people who he thinks are elitist, mean and hypocritical, especially Zeke. Works as a TA and is always busy and grumpy, but his friends keep him sane.

Historia: Wants to be a veterinarian. Quiet but kind. Has a really aesthetic instagram and is always posting cute coffee shops and pictures of her pets. Her girlfriend Ymir is literally the opposite of her and they both make u laugh. You sit beside her in class because she has a gentle chill vibe and always has extra pencils to give you. Offers you gum. Would give you a tampon if u needed it. Not really in any clubs but you see her studying at cafe’s and she always says hi. 10/10 sweetie. Knits in class.

Eren: President of the frat. He doesn’t even know how he ended up here but now he’s the guy. Kind of nice when he’s alone or in class but an absolute dick when he hangs out with the boys. Gets everyone at the party fired up. His girlfriend and his best friend are so nice. Wants to be a CEO, has no idea what his business will be. Wakes up early to go to the gym and never stops talking about it. Undefeated in Catan and Risk. Secretly a reddit lurker. You helped him study for biology once and he was actually very nice to you. Invites you to the frat parties on the weekend, but doesn’t really talk to you when you go. Loves karaoke and will always find a mic to sing into wherever he is and always picks Britney Spears songs lol.

Hange: SCIENCE MAJOR. Literally the most outgoing person you’ve ever met. Befriends you in biology and helps you study. Has so many niche interest and friends from each of their hobbies. Brings all of their friends together to hang out and its the most random group of people you’ve ever seen, but everyone still gets along. Encourages you to go to the gym, and is always hitting legs. Definitely signed up for some sports leagues; is in co-ed soccer, basketball and softball. Athletic and smart. Wants to be a marine biologist to understand life under the sea and could talk about it for hours. The person who would drag you from your depression hole after finals season. In 4th year but knows people of all ages. So nice; you miss them when they graduate.

Sasha: Environmental science major. Loves nature and is part of a hiking club. Smokes weed and makes the most delicious sandwiches ever. Always hanging out with Jean and Connie, loves playing smash bros. Gets along with absolutely everyone and is invited to everything because she’s the most fun. Is so good at beer pong and always wins tournaments. She has the craziest stories. Gives u a sweater for no reason, she’s just the type to do it. Goes on runs every day and has a dog at home that she misses soooo much. Comes back from winter break and gives everyone cookies. Not really the type to date but everyone has a crush on her. Sends the funniest memes to the group chat. FaceTimes you with a wild story while she’s walking across campus. Always has snacks in her dorm room.

Erwin: Law student that has a degree in political science. Active member of the student society and always trying to get better food in the dining hall. Is your tutor and is sooooo nice. Gives u advice on how to make it through university. You could ask him any question and he would be able to help you. Likes to read. Him and Armin are your late night library friends. Loves to talk about deep random scenarios with you. Drinks black coffee and he’s muscular but you’ve never seen him eat. Is too busy trying to network in the legal field to go out to parties, but when he does he’s always the most popular person there. Used to be an athlete but doesn't really talk about it. Would walk you home from a bar to make sure you get home safe. Has no tolerance for bullshit and is ruthless to mean people; you’re happy that he is your friend. Would send you book recommendations to read over the summer. Plays chess with Levi.

Mikasa: Her major is undecided. You meet her at the gym. She always works out late and is seemingly only ever studying or doing her daily circuit. Isn’t outgoing but is nice when approached. Not really into parties or big events but will come out for dinner or go on a walk with you after class. Her boyfriend is the president of the frat and they couldn’t be more different but she still loves him and says that he is a sweetie with her. Loves it when pet-a-dog day comes around. Enjoys spending time in the women’s centre on campus. She tells every girl that she meets that if they ever need help they can call her and she means it. The frat guys are terrified of her. Has an instagram with two pictures and they’re both of flowers. Likes collecting tiny figurines. Plans self-defence classes for the girls.

Reiner: Bruh Reiner is 100% that transfer kid who still wears his old universities hoodie EVERY DAY. History major and way too into WWII. Likes to read for fun. Loves bears and will send you the cutest tiktoks. Look like he could kill you - is a cinnamon roll. Sad boy energy and loves to watch rom-coms. Listens to emo music and Kpop while he's working out. He knows where the best lookouts are. Likes older women lol. He loves going for all you can eat wings. Will have the highest grades in the class but never seem to actually study. Wants to be a teacher. Likes painting nice little pictures. Does yoga.

Armin: Another day-one friend. You meet him in your math class and the two of you get through it together. He is kind and always remembers stories that you tell him. Loves going to arcade bars and doing anything that involves a challenge. Engineering student. Loves to solve riddles and play Zelda. Watches the planet earth series and sends you facts that he learns about animals. Knows when the next meteor shower is happening and will drive the friend group out to go stargazing. Is doing a study abroad in a different country so that he can learn a new language and see things from a different perspective. Despite being more shy and reserved, he is an absolute riot when drunk and makes everyone dance with him. He always brings the best snacks to late night study sessions.

Zeke: Philosophy major and literally will take whatever side of the argument Levi is against. Fighting with strangers on twitter and believes his opinion is always right. Will give you his opinion about your life even if you don’t ask for it. TA’s a class and is ridiculously hard on everyone when he’s grading papers. Hot and popular but emotionally unavailable because of his daddy issues. Wants his PHD mostly just to flex lol. Is on the baseball team and is always fidgeting with his hands. Has expensive taste in food and likes craft beer and nice wine. Has broad knowledge but its not deep. Wears boujie clothes and has a nice backpack. Prefers backpacking over staying in hotels because he thinks it is more ‘authentic’. Can speak multiple languages. Loves writing silly notes on your papers. Says that he is too good for the frats but still is there with Eren and Floch every Friday night lol.

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astroscientia · 2 years

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☀️ASTRO-OBSERVATIONS - Part 2☀️

Trigger warning: trauma, sex, STI, health issues.

Mars in the 6th house placements are amazing at crafts. They love using their hands and trying different tools. They generally will like building things, repairing appliances, or even creating systems to take care of their health. These people will need to watch out for any stomach-related issues.

However, the crafts-esque elements are boosted if Mars is in Capricorn because this allows the expression of Mars to be more positive (Mars is exalted in Capricorn). The reason I say this is because Mars is a malefic, so it can bring accidents, poor health, and bad luck when it is weak in the chart, i.e. when it is in Libra, Taurus, or Cancer.

Speaking of a “weak” Mars, when we have Mars in Libra, Pisces, or Taurus, it does not mean that the person is weak. It means that Mars’s expression in the chart can create issues that reduce one’s ability to assert themselves.

With a Taurus Mars, you have weak boundaries and might be prone to overindulging yourself or overworking yourself for others. Throat issues are prominent as well as an inability to defend oneself.

The same is for Libra Mars whereby they struggle to assert themselves in social situations, making conclusive decisions in their lives, and can leave loose ends. They are also prone to allow complacency to drag issues that could’ve been resolved with firmer boundaries and stricter words. Libra Mars people also might have issues with: bladder, kidneys, and lower back pain.

Pisces Mars or Mars-Neptune aspects are easily manipulated, they are overly reactive and misdirect their aggression. We need to keep in mind that Mars also rules the art of war and strategy. As such, the Neptunian elements cloud one's Mars from manifesting positively and constructively (Mars also rules engineering and building!). This can also indicate a weakened immune system, low energy levels, and a tendency to be a pushover in some circumstances while blowing up irrationally at the wrong time.

I noticed this in some charts: having Virgo in the 8th house can indicate catching an STI or being wounded from sex.

Venus-Mars: the family might have intervened in your relationships to sabotage them or oppose them. This gives a sense of always having to fight for your relationships.

Venus-Saturn: this also might manifest as a father figure or society at large generally opposing your relationships as well. it can also mean that you don't show your feminine side when in society or in front of family members. You prefer to keep it to yourself and express your sensuality privately or through sublimation (high art, literature, poetry, etc.)

Sun-Pluto aspects are intense, they could either mean that your father is very powerful and you don’t know the nature of his work or can indicate that a person was exploited or controlled leaving them feeling traumatized and feeling like your identity is stained by what happened to you. The thing about pluto aspects is that they leave you feeling stained with lots of shame, self-doubt, and embarrassment but the key to managing these events or transits is to see how these transformative occurrences showed you your own ability to heal yourself and others.

Scorpios enter your life when you need them the most— whether for better or for worse. They enter your life to show you the truth of something and they tell you where you need to heal the most.

Geminis have a bad reputation but they enter your life to teach you flexibility. They are very intelligent, socially aware, and witty. We can learn a lot from their cleverness and the way they express themselves and engage others. The same goes for Virgos. Virgos manifest this mercurial energy in the way they organize their minds, space, and life. Virgos embody Mercury through tools that facilitate our lives with their simplicity.

Aries enters your life when you need to make a conclusive decision in your life. They embolden you to move forward and teach you to ruthlessly cut off other options and loose ends. The same goes for Capricorns.

Having Venus at 29 degrees is a sign that you are very capable of anticipating the other person’s responses, i.e. you’re a good flirt and can see how things will unfold when pursuing a romantic partner or a business venture (because Venus also rules how we make money).

Thanks for reading💕🌸

My DMs are always open for questions and criticism/feedback.

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sssammich · 6 months

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day 24: enchanted

listen sctober is a state of mind ok?

crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

if you'd rather read this oneshot on ao3

---

“If you attend this party, we won’t bother you for a month.” Sam, one of Lena’s best friends and roommates, announces as she perches herself on the coffee table in front of Lena who is sitting on her favorite corner of the couch.

“Leave me out of this,” Andrea, Lena’s other best friend and roommate, says from the other end of the couch.

Sam only shakes her head before focusing her attention back to Lena. “This will be good for you.”

She arches a brow. “You don’t know what’s good for me.”

“Mmm, babe. Be for real. As your best and most trusted friend, I only want what’s best for you.”

They both turn when they hear a scoff from the other side of the room.

“Sam,” Lena starts. “Let’s not pretend that you’re not a liar and a scammer and, most likely, a thief.”

Affronted, Sam’s jaw drops and stares at Lena before swinging her sights on Andrea who’s sitting at the corner of the sofa not bothering to glance away from the magazine she’s reading. “Don’t look at me, this is between you two.”

“Come on. You’re literally always at work.”

“Because it’s literally my job.”

Sam tries again. “It’s a housewarming party that’s open to everyone, you don’t even have to bring anything.”

“Who invites strangers to a housewarming party?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “First of all, I’m your one regular friend who didn’t go to the rich sad girl boarding school with princessa over there so I know a thing or two about making friends with people. Secondly, since I’m friends with them, they said I could bring my friends. Third, and most important of all, I’m doing this for your own good.”

“And what good is that?”

Sam smiles, her face stretching wide and Lena realizes all too late that she’s fallen trap from something so simple and elementary. She knows Lillian is just rolling in her grave wondering if Lena learned anything at all from her.

“Well, I’m so glad you asked.”

From the corner of her eyes, she catches Andrea shaking her head.

“You’ve inherited the worst hand imaginable having a mass murdering egomaniac for a brother who forced this company on you. Which, by the way, you have slaved over for the better part of the last year. It’s time that you just take a breather, and this is it. Stay thirty minutes just to say you’ve talked to someone not directly employed by you or someone you tip when they hand you your takeout.”

It never stops the sting from Sam’s words when she lays out the truth of Lena’s life. So she purses her lips and stays quiet for a while, a fool’s charade, until she eventually groans her acquiescence.

Triumphantly, Sam smiles, and places a soft chaste kiss on the top of her head. “Lena Luthor, the woman that you are.”

“Shut up.”

Sam scurries out of the room and Lena takes a deep breath.

“You should’ve just said yes the first time, then you could’ve saved yourself the trouble of the last two minutes.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Andrea lazily turns the page of her magazine. “Masochist.”

—

Lena’s not a sucker. And definitely doesn’t think she’s one, but how she got swindled into forking over a crisp $20 bill to the woman across from her makes her rethink that, perhaps, she might not be as sharp as she believes she is.

“Now, I want you to know I’m not a psychic,” Kelly, the woman, tells her.

“But you are more than happy to pocket my money for this party trick.”

Kelly shrugs, her toothy grin appearing far too amused. “Girl’s gotta make a living, you know.”

Lena arches her brow, expectant. “Go ahead, then.”

The other woman tilts her head and smiles, then she waves her hand in front of a crystal ball. Lena has half a mind to snort at this half-hearted performance. “You’ve been dealt a bad hand, Lena Luthor, but all I’m seeing is a very bright future for you.”

This time, she does snort, unable to hide her reaction. “Inheriting the family business because your brother turned murderous lunatic isn’t exactly what I’d call bright.”

Kelly continues moving her hand over the crystal ball before she lets her fingernails carefully tap the top of it, a pleasant tink sound as she does so. “You’ll come across some interesting situations that will make you rethink your old ways.”

She narrows her eyes, observing the other woman from across from her. She doesn’t believe in psychics or witchcraft or magic or any of the sort because anything can be explained with science. But the way that Kelly doesn’t shy away from meeting her gaze makes a flicker of doubt enter Lena’s mind that maybe Kelly knows something she doesn’t.

The other woman pulls back and folds her hands on top of each other as they rest on her lap.

“Finally, you’ll be enchanted by someone you least expect.”

Silence sits between them, Kelly’s eyes anticipating Lena’s next move. Which turns out to be Lena simply opening her mouth and hurling the first words that come to mind.

“Bullshit. That's it? That’s what I paid you twenty bucks for?”

Yet Kelly only shrugs again, a laugh on her face as she makes a show of pocketing the twenty dollar bill from the table between them and shoving it in her bra. “Have a little faith.”

She huffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

—

Lena moves on to a different area of the house, providing other guests the opportunity to fall trap into Kelly’s overpriced psychic readings. Who even holds a psychic reading at a housewarming party?

Regardless of her own thoughts and feelings on the matter, Lena can’t help but respect the woman’s hustle, a kind of softness and gentleness in the way she presents herself, enough to lure unsuspecting guests to fork over their money to be told things they already know.

She passes the throng of other houseguests and arrives in the kitchen, making a beeline for the kitchen island-turned-bar and uncorks one of the red wines before pouring herself a healthy glass. She takes a few sips here and there and wonders what’s a reasonable time to leave this party. Andrea and Sam managed to wrench her away from her desk for a night, so she’s willing to consider this night a loss for her and a win for them. But she doesn’t need to suffer needlessly in the torment of a house party.

She grabs her phone and sends her friends a message letting them know that she’s leaving in ten minutes regardless of their impending protests before silencing her phone and shoving it in her back pocket. She takes another sip and peruses the cheese spreads on the other counter when she hears a car pull up right outside of the kitchen windows. She doesn’t quite see who’s out there, but she continues to hear movement, car doors slamming, and then faint footsteps approaching the back door.

Lena hears the thud against the back door then the ineffectual wriggling of the old door knob. Another thud comes through and Lena decides to help preserve this person’s dignity by opening the door for them.

Now, Lena expects to help some poor soul relegated to grunt duty to come through that door, seeing as they were the one who was sent out to buy god knows what. What she doesn’t expect, however, is the finest piece of ass Lena has ever seen holding a crate full of liquor in one arm and a stack of six pizzas in the other. How this woman’s blonde hair is pulled in a ponytail, her glasses slightly skewed on her face, yet the blue of her eyes are still so readily apparent even in the evening light.

“Um, can I get through?”

It takes Lena another couple of seconds to jump into action, pulling herself and the door back to make way for the woman who breezily dumps all the things she’s carrying on an empty spot of the already filled counters of the kitchen.

Lena watches with curious eyes as the woman sighs out in relief when she puts all the stuff down on the counter, brushing her forehead with her forearm before resting her hands on her hips, surveying the goods that she’s just brought. When this woman does this, Lena can see how the tight faded red shirt she’s wearing stretches underneath her back muscles. She doesn’t want to say that her eyes widened in surprise, but she also doesn’t want to say that they didn’t.

Instead, Lena elects to stay quiet and shut the door closed in what she hopes is a quiet click, but is more of a medium volume thud that catches the woman’s attention, turning her around and showcasing her broad shoulders.

“Oh! Shoot, I didn’t even realize…that…you…” the woman tapers off, her mouth slanting into confusion then awed wonder until she stops talking altogether.

“Me…?” Lena says, urging the woman.

“...yeah. I didn’t—um, I didn’t realize you were still behind me.”

“Well. Here I am.”

The woman nudges her glasses up. “Yes, right. And who am I speaking with?”

“Lena. And you are?”

The woman smiles. “Kara.”

She accepts the offered hand between them, more than happy to feel the weight of the woman’s hand in hers: sturdy, warm. She smiles, tilting her head slightly and is endeared by the matching one on Kara’s face.

“So how do you know the homeowner?” she asks, by way of making conversation, their clasped hands slowly, unfortunately, pulling apart from each other.

Kara chuckles. “You’re looking right at her.”

“So this is your house?”

“That’s right!

“Who invites strangers to their housewarming party?”

“Who attends a stranger’s housewarming party?”

She opens her mouth but no smart retort comes out. She’s thankful that neither of her best friends are around to witness this fish-out-of-water flailing that she’s currently doing. “I guess you have a point.”

“Well, you’re here now, so might as well have fun, huh?”

“I was just leaving, actually,” she blurts out.

“Oh, that’s a bummer. Can I entice you with a couple slices of pizza and maybe a little bit of small talk before you go?”

“Sor—sure,” she says, course-correcting from an apology to an acceptance, surprising herself. It seems to surprise Kara a little, too. “Yeah, why not. One slice.”

“Yeah?” Kara’s eyes are patient, as if expecting Lena to turn her down. But Lena wants to prove this woman wrong, so she nods. Delighted by her reassurance, Kara quickly opens the top box and quickly pulls a large slice, the melted cheese stretching, before placing it on a paper plate before handing it to her. Wordlessly, she accepts even as her eyes continue to watch as Kara piles on three slices on her own plate.

In the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and the delicious waft of pizza just nearby, Lena thinks maybe she’ll stay an extra ten minutes past the time she texted her friends.

It would be rude to leave so soon, now that she’s met the homeowner, right?

—

Surprising herself, instead of going home like Lena had planned, she ends up holing herself in a corner of the house talking with Kara. They’re in the den just off to the side of the kitchen overlooking the backyard. They take either ends of the sofa right underneath the window, the moonlight shining through the windows even as Kara flips the switch of the lamp just by where she’s sitting. They’re surrounded by boxes piled up on top of each other, a small little retreat of their own. Laughter and commotion can be heard from other parts of the house, the music softly playing somewhere. But they’re secluded in this room, muffling out the rest of the world.

“Sorry for the mess. It’s taking a little longer to unpack this spot. Hope here is cool?”

“Is this some kind of second living room?” she asks as she scans the room despite the boxes in the way.

“Nah. This is my office. Or will be once I clean up a bit more.”

“What do you do?”

“I dabble in a little bit of everything. Mostly oil-based paintings, and I write sometimes.”

“An artist, then?” she asks aloud after taking a bite of her slice of pizza. Her eyes scan the room again, this time making note of the words on the boxes. She even finds a folded easel in the far corner. It takes her a second to get a response with Kara taking a healthy bite out of three stacked pizza slices.

“Some might say.”

“Are you any good?” She prods, though she makes sure that her voice is teasing, light.

“Some might say that, too,” Kara responds easily, flashing her an easy smile just as she takes a sip of her beer. “I can show you sometime or something. If you want, that is. No pressure.”

Maybe it’s the pizza or the alcohol or maybe it’s neither of those things and it’s just Kara sitting in front of her looking beautiful and handsome and easygoing and lovely but Lena finds herself smiling and nodding before she’s even aware she’s doing it.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

—

Lena’s not sure how long she’s sat on the sofa talking about things other than work and laughing at silly jokes and puns and stories and simply spending time with Kara, but she knows that the ten minutes she promised herself has long passed. The pizza is all gone, and the two bottles of wine that Kara swiped from the kitchen is all but gone, too.

But one minute they’re laughing and tipsily enjoying their time together, and the next, she’s lazily opening her eyes as she registers how she’s being held inside a cocoon of warmth. She takes quick stock of herself, feeling warmth behind her. Then, she finds a strong arm is protectively crossed over her chest while her own arms wrap around it, as if nuzzling into it.

Instead of panic at being constricted and finding herself in the arms of a stranger, Lena discovers that she is not opposed to this hold, to the heat she feels behind her, around her. She takes a deep breath, and dares to snuggle back, the protective arm around her tightening its hold on her somewhat. She feels a warm breath tickle her nape, but the thought only thrills her knowing that it’s Kara with her.

This is not a thing she has ever done in all of her life, but her thoughts sleepily flit through familiar words:

interesting situations…rethink…old ways…

Lena shuts her eyes and lets sleep overtake her once more.

—

The morning light rudely wakes her; the brightness of the light disturbing her peace as it washes over her face. She shuts her eyes further despite not once opening them, and she instantly turns her head to nuzzle into whatever source of darkness is closest to her.

Groaning, she turns in place until she finds what she’s looking for. She tucks her arms further into her chest and lets the reprieve of darkness above her protect her from the bright light.

She feels the vibrating rumble in front of her, laughter belatedly traveling into her ears. With a huff, she realizes it’s Kara laughing at her, even as she maintains the engulfing hold she has of Lena in her arms.

“Stop laughing,” she demands sternly even as the words come out mumbled and she finds her head completely pressed against the crook of Kara’s neck. She resists the urge to breathe in deep and alight her senses with Kara’s scent of faint body soap and sweat and laundry detergent.

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

But Kara doesn’t, and Lena snakes her hand away from her chest to blindly pinch at Kara’s side.

“Hey!” Kara is laughing harder now, even as she maintains her protective hold of Lena. “Violence is not the answer!”

“It’s self-defense,” Lena grumbles, continuing to pinch Kara on the sides until Kara’s hand grabs hold of her wrist to stop her. She attempts to wrestle out of Kara’s grasp, her eyes now open even as she still squints from the brightness in the room, joy spreading inside of her when she sees Kara’s look so beautiful and disheveled first thing in the morning.

“I call a truce,” Kara offers finally, bringing Lena’s hand back down between them. Lena doesn’t miss the way Kara’s other hand, the one that’s safely guarded her from falling off the edge of the couch, is spread open against her back and gently caressing her.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you, your honor.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but when she looks back at Kara, she can only see bright open skies and promise in them, and Lena thinks she’d like to maybe go outside for a walk or to the beach or to the fields where she can have a picnic maybe.

Shaking her head of her wandering thoughts, she matches Kara’s easy smile.

“Good morning,” Kara says, voice gentle and soft, reverent.

“Good morning.”

“How’re you feeling?”

How is Lena feeling? She doesn’t know, truthfully. She has no idea how to navigate a time where she chats up a stranger and spends the night without having sex. Or to feel so familiar with someone she’d just met. Or want the urge to spend all her waking moments with someone whose only crime is an easygoing smile directed at her.

“Good.”

Kara smiles at her.

“How’d you sleep?”

Never better. She’ll be sore later. The safest she’s ever felt. Her shoulder tingles from where she’s laid on it too long.

“Good.”

Kara’s smile widens.

“I…don’t—this normally doesn’t happen.”

She quirks a brow. “You don’t normally spend the night spooning a stranger on your couch?”

“No, I don’t.”

She can’t help the smirk that appears on her face. “So you’re saying I’m your first?”

Kara shakes her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, you sound like you’re gonna be trouble.”

Her? Trouble? She’s the one who’s being held lovingly in the arms of someone who could probably bench press her and not think twice about it. Who has been nothing but kind and wonderful and goofy and funny and sweet to Lena Luthor, sister of the deranged arsonist who has tarnished their family legacy and forced Lena to raise it back up from the ashes.

“I think if there’s anybody who’s gonna be trouble, it’s you.”

Lena watches as Kara’s attention alternates between her eyes and her lips. Not wanting to second guess herself or wonder what ifs, Lena surges forward and closes the distance between them.

The kiss is soft, though their lips are a little chapped from all their drinking last night. She grabs a fistful of Kara’s shirt in her hand as Kara tightens her hold of Lena. Her other hand travels to the back of Kara’s neck, pulling her down and closer because Lena can’t get enough. Now that she knows how this feels, how Kara tastes—even first thing in the morning, she doesn’t want to let go, not even to breathe.

Soon, they separate because she’s still only human. Their breaths are a little ragged, but there’s a bright smile on Kara’s lips and she just knows there’s one on hers mirroring it.

“I didn’t expect you,” Lena admits, vulnerable and excited and cautious and relieved.

“Nobody ever does.”

Kara brings her head back down and the two continue languidly kissing one another, savoring the feel of lips slotting perfectly against lips.

—

One month later

“You set me up.” Lena sits down on the same spot in the living room of Alex and Kara’s house that she sat in at the housewarming party, sitting directly in front of Kelly.

It’s been a whirlwind of a month for Lena, most surprising of all is Kara’s presence in her life. For one, she’s now dating Kara, far too surprised at the speed in which things moved along between them. For another, she’s had to endure (and continues to endure) the incessant and merciless teasing from both Sam and Andrea, especially when she came home the next day with rumpled clothes and a hickey on her neck. Lastly, even though it’s been a month, Lena’s circle of friends somehow doubled, with Alex and Kelly’s frequent appearance because of Kara.

So here she is, wanting to lay blame at the woman who so conned her into the life she now leads.

“Set you up?”

“All the psychic crystal ball bullshit.”

Understanding washes over the other woman and she smiles, the softness and gentleness of it irking Lena. “Ah.”

“You’re not really a psychic.”

“Well, I never claimed I was. You believed what you wanted to believe, I just nudged you into some…suggestions.”

“One of which was to get with your girlfriend’s sister.”

Kelly laughs. “You’re too generous to give me credit. I’ll tell you what you wanna know, all you need to do is ask.”

“Did you put Kara up to this?”

At the mention of Lena’s now girlfriend, the one who she’s been seeing for the last month they both turn to the line that is Alex and Kara as they hold their large Chinese takeout order for the group, with Sam and Andrea in tow holding up their drinks and the chocolate pie they bought on a whim.

Yet Before Kara fully goes to the kitchen, she turns her head and flashes a smile towards Lena.

“Come on you two, dinner’s ready,” she says.

Kelly gets up and waits for Lena who slowly rises to her feet. She then allows for the other woman to wrap her arm around Lena’s shoulder as the two walk side by side towards the kitchen where they can hear the sisters bickering about Kara taking a bite of a potsticker before even laying everything else out.

“Why bother when she took one look at you and fell in love?”

“You owe me a twenty,” she says gruffly, not meaning every word. Kelly quickly releases her shoulder when Kara detours from her task of getting their plates and walks over and kisses Lena because she can and wants to and Lena thinks she’s happy to give Kara anything she ever desires on this Earth.

“God, you two are disgusting,” Sam quips.

Alex pipes up. “Keep it PG, please.”

Sam and Alex give each other high fives, Andrea rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Kara only waves them off behind her and gives Lena a peck on the nose before hurrying back to her task.

Kelly leans over. “You really think I had anything to do with that?”

Her cheeks redden, yet her sights remain on Kara. “Fine. You can keep the twenty.”

Kelly only laughs.

#supercorp #supercorptober 2023 #supercorptober2023 #supercorp fanfiction #what is this?#a mess #excessive exposition #samfic #dedicated to #chaotic-super #for the prompt

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emilybahu · 19 days

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I love 9-1-1 so much!

I have fallen in love with tv shows before, watching episodes religiously as they aired weekly. 9-1-1 has been different for me though, it’s become more like an obsession. In some ways that’s bad, it’s consuming my mind a lot of times and it’s distracting me from other things I need to get done. However, really getting into the fandom of this show has also been wonderful for me, it’s made me so happy, actually getting involved with other fans and talking to people the last couple months has been so fun! You all are amazing, funny, talented people and I’m truly grateful that I’ve been able to interact with you!

Now, I’ve heard about some toxicity within the fandom, Buddie and BuckTommy shippers turning against each other and fighting about what’s best for the characters. (Which btw, isn’t really up to us anyway)

I personally haven’t seen a lot of that, who knows, maybe I’m just ignoring it because I don’t want to see it. Either way I always try to keep a very open and and neutral stance when it comes to shipping. I let myself enjoy the stories, the edits, the fan art, and the speculation. However, I also try to stay grounded in the reality of what’s happening in the movie/book/tv show.

When it comes to 9-1-1 right now, between Buddie and BuckTommy I’m not picking sides. I like both ships the same, and I don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon. I really, really enjoy both ships! (Plus the fan fiction for both are amazing, so I’m LIVING)

Buddie is part of the reason that I started watching in the first place, Buck and Eddie are my favorite characters. I love them both to death, and regardless of their relationship status they have something special, no one can deny that! Their friendship is beautiful and deep, they do truly love each other, they’re family, they will always be there for each other whether or not they end up in a romantic relationship. I’m honestly just happy to see them together in any capacity. And yes, I will happy, overjoyed even, if they decide to make Buddie cannon, but I’ll also be happy if their relationship remains as it is.

As far as Buck and Tommy go I was surprised when the kiss happened, but OH MY GOD… I was totally there for it! I’m actually really happy with this storyline so far, (even if the second hand embarrassment nearly killed me during the first date)I think that they’ll be great together, I really can’t wait to see them getting to know each other more! Wherever this goes, I’m here for it! I’m excited to see Buck explore his bisexuality with Tommy, and learn about himself through this relationship. I’m also excited to learn more about Tommy! And if they don’t end up being very long term, I really hope that they stay friends.

I’m really enjoying being into a ship that’s canon for once, it makes me really happy. I don’t think there’s ever been a ship (apart from these ones) that I’ve been into that have even had a remote chance of becoming cannon (Stucky… my first love!)

Anyway, I digress, the writers and the actors KNOW these characters, we know that if something felt off it the story, they’d want to do right by the characters. We know for a fact how much Oliver and Ryan love Buck and Eddie, and if it feels right and true to them Buddie will happen. If it doesn’t feel right to put them in a romantic relationship, to me, it’s fine because regardless we have these two men with an absolutely beautiful and meaningful friendship, and I’m always here for that!

All of this to say, all this fighting about “who’s right for who” isn’t doing anyone any good. I mean we’re all in this fandom because we love this show RIGHT!? Being on platforms like this is meant to bring us TOGETHER!

SO WHY THE HELL ARE SOME OF US TRYING TO RIP EACH OTHER APART BECAUSE WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS ON A DAMN SHIP!?

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions after all… so yeah, share your opinion, just don’t be rude about it. Putting someone down because they disagree with you doesn’t make you right… it just makes you mean. It scares people away, maybe makes them feel like they’re not safe in this community. I’ve seen it a couple times too, with myself and others, being afraid to make a post because of the possibility of hate.

In my experience you’re meant to feel safe in a fandom, in a community because you’re sharing your love for something with others who love it just as much as you do! We should love each other like we love these characters!

To conclude, all I need is for our boys to be happy, that’s really all we should care about here anyway. It shouldn’t necessarily matter who’s dating who, as long as they’re HAPPY! I’m really just along for the ride, I’m here for whatever they decide to do with Buddie and/or BuckTommy in the future. Buck and Eddie are my loves, and we barely know Tommy, but I’m starting to like him already, as long as they’re happy, I am too!

Thank you for reading my TedTalk…

Sorry if it doesn’t sound completely coherent, stringing words together isn’t always my strong suit…🫠

#911 abc #9-1-1 #buddie #bucktommy #tevan #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #time to rant #buck and eddie #I really love this show

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barmadumet · 4 months

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You’ve seen all the Star Wars decor all over the house, but THIS is my private little sanctuary in my bedroom closet that’s just mine ❤️

I reworked the space during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays to make room for my treasures from the cons I attended to meet Hayden & Ewan 🖤🤍

Friends, I’ve been thinking about logging off tumblr for good lately. Social media exploded when I started college at the end of 2005, and I stayed away from ALL platforms until joining tumblr in 2020, and even after that, it took me several months to start posting and interacting. My main concern was my self-esteem - my mental health. I have always struggled with not feeling good enough and comparing myself to others. I made the decision to give this a try when I was in a good headspace - when I felt mature enough and strong enough to fight those negative feelings. It hasn’t always been easy these last few years, but it’s been so very rewarding. The good always outweighed the bad.

But lately, I’m not sure I can say that any longer. I feel like I am straddling a fine line. It surprises me how much things I see here can affect my mood and feelings of self-worth. Thanks to past (somewhat recent) trauma, I wrestle more than ever with this voice inside my head that says, “You don’t matter.” And usually, I can find ways to justify that being a false statement… Right now, I can’t find any reason not to believe it. For the moment, I do believe it. I feel if I vanished, it wouldn’t make a difference.

The friends I’ve made here are honestly what is carrying me through. And I can exit this space and keep those relationships, but then I wonder what I might miss out on. What about the new friends I’ve yet to meet? What about those people that I really don’t have side conversations with but always make me smile when I see their names in my posts’ notes? What about all the art that is yet to be created that I wouldn’t get to see? What about all the comms I wouldn’t get to share with you? How would I even know when comms are open??

My decision isn’t made. I’m going to try to hang in there and focus on all the positives. I’m feeling fragile, but typically, opening up helps me to better sort things out. So, here’s what’s in my head, and here’s what’s in my bedroom closet lol. I invite you in - because that’s the scary and vulnerable thing to do - the thing that’ll make or break a situation.

I want you to know that I care deeply for each and every one of you - maybe too much - and maybe that’s part of the problem. Not everyone will care in return, but that’s my issue. That’s something I need to learn to be okay with. I thought I had toughened up in my old age, but I suppose the tenderheartedness will always be a part of who I am, waiting to flood my emotions in weak moments. The people that are reading this give me the will to be strong ❤️

#tmi #my Star Wars sanctuary #my stupid self esteem #I’m losing the battle #am I believing lies or finally seeing the truth?

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