#tried to create her OC 'Mirage'

[ave661]

Ghosts & Mirages

Happy birthday @stararch4ngelqueen !!! ♥ Luv ya

#tried to create her OC 'Mirage' #HAPPY BDAY! #If anyone hasn't read this series yet what are you waiting for? #my first fanfic that I read almost a year ago #ALMOST YEAR AGO? DAMN #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #mw2022 #661ave

[jerzwriter]

The End of the World (2/2)

This one took me forever to finish because it was pretty painful. Those familiar with Eli's route in Wake the Dead know the fate that awaited his family, and I followed canon but fleshed it out. This could be read as a standalone, but if you want the full, painful, rip-your-heart-out impact, I suggest reading Part One: The Blessing of Each Day. And if you want to add more salt to that wound, you can learn more about the Sipe's family history in these two series: A Mother's Journal and Coming Up Blank.

I must apologize to @rosefuckinggenius, because I have been sitting on the magnificent art she created for this series for far, far too long. (See above about how it was hard to finish! lol) THANK YOU! I can't tell you how perfectly you captured Eli and David's last moments, and I treasure this and your talent!

Book: Wake the Dead Characters: Eli Sipes; James x Florence Sipes (OCs - Eli's parents); David Sipes (OC - Eli's brother) Words: 2.9k Rating: Mature Warnings: Character death, violent content, moderate gore, grief/anguish; coping with extreme loss A/N: @choicesoctober Family

Wake the Dead Masterlist | Full Masterlist

It was an unseasonably warm day. The thick, humid air and thunder rumbling in the distance left no doubt that Eli’s father, James’s, prediction was right. A storm would be arriving in quick order. Eli knew he needed to start heading back home, but the thought made him sick. He had never returned from a hunt empty-handed, not even when he was a child, and he had no desire to start doing so today.   He cursed himself for not bagging the squirrels he encountered earlier. Though he kind of blamed his father for that one. 

“Don’t you come back with some squirrel! Daddy wants to make you all a good venison stew.”

The small rodents wouldn’t have made for the most appealing meal but would have provided sustenance. But Eli was intent on making his father’s venison dreams come true. Now, as the dark clouds rolled in, he couldn’t stop thinking of a lesson his parents drilled into him for as long as he could remember – take nothing for granted.

With a heavy sigh, he began the trek home. Another lesson he knew well echoed in his mind: you don’t always get what you want. He tried to muffle the sound of his boots as they stepped on the dry earth beneath him. His mother was right; it wasn’t wise to be alone in the woods, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Still, he intended to keep his promise to her; he would make it home, so he took every precaution he could.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and fatigue was quickly setting in. He had given up hope of a successful hunt. Most animals had already taken shelter from the approaching storm, and he had to laugh; apparently, the animals were smarter than him. While the ribbing he would take from his dad would be brutal, he knew his family was much more concerned with him returning, so he continued on.

Just then, something rustled in the bushes a short distance away. Confident it was a drone, he nocked an arrow and prepared to shoot when, to his delight, a majestic deer appeared. Eli narrowed his eyes as he convinced himself it wasn’t a mirage. He could just see his father’s glowing face when he arrived home with this! The image was so real in his mind; it already felt like a memory.

The animal turned, its dark eyes fixed on Eli’s, and he almost lost grip of his bow. An uneasiness quickly spread through him, feelings he couldn’t understand welling inside. He should have taken his shot by now, but he couldn’t move. Aware of his presence, the deer should have run, but it stood in place. The two of them were transfixed, lost in a trance.

Eli’s head jerked to the side. He swore he heard the voice of a man... a man from long ago... but it couldn’t... it just couldn’t be. He closed his eyes for a split second and was transported to another time. He was six years old again. His tiny hand grasped his grandfather’s as they strolled through the woods. In the distance, a deer appeared, and his grandpa pulled him to the side so they could quietly observe the beautiful animal in its habitat. Full of wonder, Eli thought he had found a new friend. On the walk home, his grandfather explained that all creatures must be respected; we needed to live in harmony with each other. 

Shaking his head to return to the present, Eli refocused on the deer, who still hadn’t moved. Normally, Eli would have shot it by now and been working on carrying it home. It was food, after all, food his family desperately needed. But his mind couldn’t let go of a thought... who would he have been if the outbreak hadn’t happened? What if he had lived in a world that wasn’t only about survival, one that allowed for luxuries such as compassion, understanding, and appreciation? What if every encounter didn’t have to be viewed as a threat and every motive didn’t need to be questioned? Would he have been a better man? A man his mother, Florence, would have been more proud of? His younger brother, David, managed to retain some of that magic. He still had a shred of youthful optimism, a heart of pure gold, and the soul of a poet... but Eli relinquished most of those things long ago. But right now, he felt the spirit of the young boy he once was, and his heart ached for a future that was never to be. He doubted he would have contemplated killing this beautiful creature if his life had gone as it should have. But that world died long ago. His body trembled as the thoughts continued to assault his mind without consent. None of this mattered; this was the only life he had to live, and his family was relying upon him. With his heart racing, he shut out all thoughts and pulled back his bow, watching the arrow as it whirled through the air.

Eli was a skilled marksman, and the moment his decision was made, the deer’s fate was sealed; it took only one shot. The arrow pierced through the animal’s chest, and it fell to the hardened earth with a thud. Releasing a shaky breath, Eli looked on, still frozen in place. It took another clap of thunder to break him free. Rushing to the deer’s side, he bound its hooves together and did something else he hadn’t done in longer than he could remember... he said a silent prayer, thanking the deer for its sacrifice and asking forgiveness before lifting it to his shoulders and marching on.

He smiled wistfully on the journey home, remembering his grandmother, who had taught him how to pray and the importance of being thankful, even in the most thankless of times. She was among the first in his family to die when the outbreak occurred, and Eli never got to say goodbye. But somehow, he knew she could see him now, and he hoped she was proud of who he had become.  

He was exhausted when he neared the clearing that led to his family’s home. The heat, his emotions, and the weight of the deer were taking their toll. He couldn’t be happier that it was his father’s turn to dress and prepare the meal; he needed to rest, and his father would be more than happy to allow it. After all, Eli was delivering venison stew! He may have been a man of twenty-five, but when it came to his father, Eli was still a little boy who experienced pure joy when his father looked upon him with utter pride. Imagining the look on James’s face when he arrived home made Eli forget all about his fatigue, and he picked up his pace.

The silence in the forest was eerie. He expected to hear his parents bickering as they finished the roof. But this was a good sign. With the sound of rain already falling in the distance, it was good to know they finished early. Visions of the impending evening filled his head. They’d sit around the fire with full bellies. His father would play guitar, or perhaps his mother would tell an old family story as David painted quietly nearby.   The picture was clear in his mind when the family’s cabin came into sight, and it only took one moment, just one step, for Eli’s world to turn on a dime.

He had never seen so many drones... their corpses strewn around the perimeter of the property. The macabre gurgling sounds of a few that had yet to perish filled the air. Eli grabbed his bow. His family had done an admirable job of taking the horde out, but there could always be more. His eyes searched the land earnestly, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to register the gravity of the situation until he heard stifled whimpers from the porch.

His head spun toward the sound, where he found David crumpled on the steps. Disheveled and bloodied, his mangled arm nearly dangled from his body as he trembled and sobbed in pain. The world moved in slow motion as Eli allowed the deer to fall from his shoulders. The sound of its body crashing against the ground echoed as Eli rushed to his brother’s side.

“David!” He screamed. “What... what happened?”

David lifted his head feebly, his skin a pale grey, the light almost gone from his eyes. But when he saw his brother, the faintest smile barely appeared.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried, Eli... I tried my best... but there were too many of them....”

“I know! I know you did,” Eli tried to assure him. “Are you... are you...” his voice trailed. Of course, he wasn’t all right. The horrific scene surrounding him made that vividly clear. But Eli’s heart and mind still fought to accept what his eyes could readily see.

David’s hand shook, barely able to hold their father’s gun. “I know what I have to do,” he wailed. “I know... rule number... rule number three... but I can’t,” he sobbed. “I can’t. I’m too... too weak. I was always too weak.”

“NO!” Eli insisted, falling to his brother’s side and cupping his face in his hands. “No, David! No! You’re not weak! You were never weak! You’re too good for this goddamned world, do you hear me! This world never deserved anyone as pure and beautiful as you. It didn’t deserve you, not the other way around. Do you understand?”  

David nodded gently, his body beginning to convulse.

“I can’t do it. I hurt so bad, but I can’t....” David’s voice cracked, and Eli pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.

“I know,” he choked. “I know. David, I’m your big brother... that’s been the best part of my life... and I will always look out for you. I love you.” Tears streamed down Eli’s cheeks as he kissed the top of his brother’s head one last time. “I love you, David.”

Then, a single shot rang out, and David’s body fell limp against his Eli.

“David,” Eli wept.

Struggling to maintain composure, he eased his little brother to the ground, clutching his hand as he sat by his side. For the second time that day, Eli prayed to a God he knew he didn’t believe in. He didn’t want to leave David’s side but knew he had to look for his parents. As he gently closed his brother’s eyes when he heard groans emerging from the cabin, and his blood went cold. Jumping to his feet, he wiped the tears from his eyes, steeling himself for what awaited him.   

With his father’s pistol in hand, Eli rushed through the front door of the family’s home, the one place that had consistently brought him peace in this troubled world. A drone lurched at him from behind a cabinet the moment he entered. Eli quickly put a bullet in the creature’s head, rotted bits of its flesh splattering throughout the darkened room. Undeterred, he turned to the kitchen, and that’s when he felt the remnants of his heart sink.

Florence, his beloved mother, sat slumped unnaturally against the stone wall. Shaking and taking shallow breaths, she appeared to already be turning.     

“Ma!” Eli cried as he ran toward her. A flicker of recognition flashed in Florence’s yellowing eyes as he approached; she mustered the little strength she had left to push him away.

“Nooooo,” she moaned. “It’s...... not...... me......”

“It is you!” Eli sobbed. “Mommy... please....”

Florence’s chest heaved as she saw the horror in her son’s eyes. She had loved him more than life itself from the moment he was born, and she would not be the thing that stole his life now. Struggling, she spat out her words.

“Eli... you know... you know what to do.”

“Mom. I can’t... I can’t, I...”

His words stopped when he was interrupted by an inhuman sound that permeated the air. He turned quickly to find his father lunging toward him. Disfigured and almost unrecognizable,  his hands were on his son’s shoulders, his teeth just inches from biting into his flesh when Eli pulled the trigger against his temple. He fell lifelessly to his son’s feet without a sound, and Eli turned back to his mother with terror in his eyes.

“Mom... please,” he pleaded, begging for a miracle he knew she could not grant. The words his parents had shared with him repeatedly played in his mind: if the time came, it would be a mercy to end the suffering... but that didn’t begin to ease his anguish.

“Mom,” he said, mindlessly cocking the pistol. “I ... I love you.” But he couldn’t bring himself to shoot.

“Remember.... our.... promise,” she coughed as her breathing became increasingly rapid, her muscles jerked uncontrollably.   

“I know, Mom,” Eli sobbed. “I’ll be strong... somehow... I promise.”

With the slightest hint of a smile, she told him she loved him one last time before she ordered: “Eli, do it!” Without a thought, he pulled the trigger and watched as his mother’s body became still.

The cabin was hauntingly silent, and Eli stood staring blankly, gun still in hand, for what felt like an eternity. When he forced himself to move, the sight of blood pouring from the wound in his mother’s head was the first thing he saw.

“Mom,” he whispered, falling to his knees beside her lifeless body.

He didn’t know how long he lay there. Catatonic, he could not move. He begged to be taken, too. There had to have been one drone remaining. Why wasn’t it coming for him? He was confident that being clawed, his body being ripped apart would have ached less than the agony he was experiencing now. He had survived so much in his twenty-five years, but this wasn’t something he could recover from. Desperate for relief, he shut his eyes, hoping when they opened, he would find this was all a dream.

But the sun, in all its cruelty, proceeded to rise. Mocking him with the bluest sky he had ever seen. Somehow, he willed himself to stand and robotically completed the tasks that awaited him. He started a fire at the far end of the property and placed the corpse of one zombie after another onto the pyre. When the last one was set ablaze, he collapsed to the ground, trying to take comfort in watching them burn, but nothing could bring comfort.

He grabbed a shovel and looked over the land, searching for the perfect place to lay his family to rest. He decided on a patch of grass where he and his mother had spent countless hours reading and talking on quiet days. Where she would try to play baseball with him and David and where he had watched her teach his brother how to paint as a child. For all the horror in the world, Florence had created beautiful memories for them there, and that’s where they should remain.

He placed David into the grave first, then laid their mother at his side, intertwining their hands. His father was the last. Eli wept as he put him beside his mother, recalling their final moments together.

“We didn’t get to say goodbye, Dad.” He cried. “I hope you know how much I love you and always will. I only had these last eighteen years because of you, and I hope you know I appreciate it. Thank you for making me the man I am today.”  

Eli began covering his family’s grave with dirt. He had only started when he saw the deer out of the corner of his eye, still lying on the ground, exactly where he dropped it. He stepped back involuntarily... it was only the day before, and it already felt like a lifetime ago.

What if I had been here, he thought. What if I hadn’t stopped for the deer... I could have been quicker. “I... I just wanted to make you happy, Dad,” he said aloud. Then, without knowing why, he retrieved the animal and placed it in the grave with his family. 

Later that night, he sat alone in the corner of the cabin. The silence was louder than any sound he had ever heard, and he knew he’d have to get used to it. He was alone now, and alone he’d remain. He promised his mother he’d go on, and for that reason, he would. But his pain was unbearable, and he could never experience it again. 

Yesterday, he wondered who he would have grown up to be if the world hadn’t ended eighteen years before. But today, he realized, his world hadn’t ended back then... it merely changed. His world, the one that ever mattered to him, ended today. He may not have been buried in one of the mass graves that littered the small town he and his family had once called home. Nor was he buried with the three people who mattered most to him. Eli survived. At least his body did, but his heart, mind, and soul could now be counted among the outbreak’s casualties. As he sat expressionless on the floor that night, he wondered who he might have grown to be one day if everything he loved hadn’t been stolen from him. Who would he have become if he wasn’t the flawed facsimile of a man he was now.

A/N2: I know WTD isn't terribly popular, so this doesn't have many readers, but if you have, I want to thank you - this has been a labor of love, and I really do appreciate it.

The entire backstory I wrote for Eli is meant to expand on how he became the person we first met in canon and why, in my opinion, he turned a lot around pretty quickly, considering.

The next three years will be very lonely and painful for Eli. In my HC, he finds the journals his mother wrote during this time, and they were able to bring him comfort.

Thank you again!

@choicesficwriterscreations

Other tags on reblog

#choices fanfic #wake the dead #wake the dead choices #eli sipes #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices the stories you play

[zeenmrala]

━  A SLICE OF THE NIGHT ♡

pairing: oc x oc / mimi mirage x indika promia  rating: mature, 18+ only  word count: 2.6k song: cologne, beabadoobee summary: popstar mimi mirage and bounty hunter indika promia take their friendship to the next level when they share their first kiss a/n: space lesbians have been all i can think about this pride month. i’ve been collaborating with my dear friend @pumpkinmischief who created indika and the art for this. we’ve crafted a tragically beautiful queer love story between our two star wars original characters. you can view the artwork that accompanies this little fic here, it’s a stunning piece inspired by the classic lesbian make up meme lol. ily piper, you are an incredible artist and i’m so grateful to know you.

“i’m not done yet, please kiss my neck”

Everybody in the core worlds knows that Coruscant never sleeps. However, there are a few short hours deep into the night when the metropolis-planet is lulled, and it seems to briefly doze in a disturbed half-slumber. It is during these hours when the sounds of traffic lapse for long enough that it can justifiably be described as quiet, when the bustling crowds disperse into such sparsity that the streets can be considered deserted. The world itself slows down, and for two young women this slice of the night is theirs, and theirs alone. They sit at the window of an apartment in the high mid-levels, looking up and across a vast dreaming city as they drink, smoke and reflect. Their girlish laughter echoes between the towering buildings. 

It’s an infinitely better view at the window, because Mimi Mirage’s new apartment is a total mess. There are boxes everywhere, half of the walls glow a soft glitter pink, and the rest remain a bland grey, the painting and decorating left unfinished. Empty bottles litter all available surfaces of the kitchen-lounge, and there are clothes and beauty products strewn about the floor. There are trunks overflowing with pink garments, headpieces, heels and jewellery. Half built furniture is dotted around the rooms, the effort to construct them left abandoned.

Mimi hasn’t had a chance to unpack or finish decorating, because she is hardly ever here, and because she is exhausted. Her rise in popularity correlates with a rise in bookings, appearances and performances, and she has danced, sung and charmed her way through five sets in two days. She has finally come home to her apartment, bringing her best friend Indika Promia with her. The two of them are lounging in the small window, smoking tabac cigarettes, drinking and winding down from a few very intense nights on the Coruscant scene. The pair always look forward to debriefing in these dreamscape hours of the night alone together, and it isn’t the first time Indika has stayed the night. But something feels different tonight, as though the spark between them is flaring, burning brighter than ever before.

“I seriously don’t know how I stopped myself from killing that handsy Iktotchi guy,” Indika scoffs as she shakes her head. She pours herself a small glass of Spotchka from a bottle at her side, then takes a drag from her cigarette, the amber glow of it illuminating her pale, tattooed face. 

“Oh my Stars,” Mimi giggles as she recalls the man in question, swatting Indika playfully. “You didn’t need to! There is no way he is ever coming to one of my shows again. You scared him to death.”

“Good,” Indika says. “He was a total asshole.”

“He really was.” She tries to take a toke of her cigarette but notices that it’s gone out, so relights it. “His friends were all super weird too.” 

“How does someone as pretty as you attract such sleemos like him?”

“Awh, I dunno.” Mimi shrugs. “It’s not so bad though. You’re here after all.”

Indika smirks, the cig hanging lazily at the corner of her lips. “Good one, dumbass.”

Mimi cackles and sips at her drink that definitely isn’t Spotchka, but her own personal take on a Coruscant Cooler - the classic cocktail made a little sweeter, and a lot pinker. 

“Indi you glared at him like a feral Rancor and I totally thought he was gonna kark his ugly-ass pants. I just know he saw his life flash before his eyes when you grabbed him.” She finishes and stubs out her cig, shakes out her lekku behind her and giggles.

“If I ever see him again it’s on sight,” Indika grumbles before draining her glass and flicking the stub of her cig out of the window. “These bastards need to learn to keep their hands to themselves. I don’t care how many bones I have to break to get the message across.”

Mimi snickers and drops to her feet, offering her hand to help the shorter woman down from the window. Indika accepts as Mimi says, “So true. Are we in the double digits yet?”

“Easily. My last bone-break count was 32. Mainly fingers though.” 

They both laugh playfully, but then there is a slight pause as they notice that their hands are still clasped. 

“Thank you for protecting me.” Mimi smiles softly. “Like, seriously. I love having you around, Indi.”

“You got it sweetheart.” Indika has a curt smirk on her face again. She nods, and then squeezes Mimi’s fingers. “I love being around you too.”

Indika then releases her to grab her bottle of Spotchka and pours what remains of the glowing blue liquid into her glass. She looks up at Mimi, who is sneering at the drink in Indika’s pale hands.

“I can’t believe you brought that foul shit into my apartment.” She stretches her arms above her head dramatically as she groans. “It’s so gross.”

“Alright booze police,” Indika says dryly, then drains her glass in one go, and slams it upside down on a box to her left. “There, it’s all gone.”

“Smartass.” Mimi folds her arms. “You’re such a stereotype, my little bounty hunter.”

Indika wipes her mouth with her wrist and winks. “Shut up. You love it."

She flashes Mimi a grin and then slips past her to the refresher and Mimi follows her. She leans in the doorway and as she watches Indika wash her face, she rants about how early she has to get up in the morning to attend a meeting with a potential sponsor. Then as Indika begins to dry herself with a towel, Mimi pauses.

“Wait, how have I never seen you without make-up before?” she asks, her heart skipping at the realisation, taking in the raw beauty of Indika’s bare skin as she appears from beneath the towel. She hides her awe by scrunching up her face and jokingly says, “Oh Gods, I hate it.”

“You little bitch,” Indika chuckles and throws the towel at her. 

Mimi dodges it and screeches. “Eek! I’m kidding, I promise!”

Indika rolls her eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time with that mean Pantoran friend of yours."

Mimi nods and scoffs. "You're probably right. She's busting my ass."

"...Is she a problem?" asks Indika rather seriously. 

"Champagne?" Mimi shakes her head, checking herself out in the mirror. "Nah, she just works too hard and worries too much."

Indika rolls her eyes as if to say yeah right, and Mimi playfully pushes her shoulder. "Don't be so protective. She's fine. You don't have to worry your pretty little horns over Montana." 

Indika's lips curve into a smile, and Mimi pecks her cheek with an exaggerated Mwah! then grabs her toothbrush. Indika picks up her own, then raises her finger at Mimi, indicating for her to wait, and as the Twi’lek raises a brow in confusion, Indika pulls out and taps on her datapad, blasting one of Mimi’s party tracks. The two snort and laugh, and begin to dance around each other, impish and drunk as they brush their teeth, giggling and bumping into one another to the music. At one point, Indika trips over and lands clumsily on her ass, and Mimi almost wets herself from laughing when she helps her back to her feet. After they have brushed their teeth, Mimi watches as Indika undoes and then replaits her braids, telling Mimi about where her next job is likely going to be.

In a moment of silence, Mimi compliments her. “You are so stunning, Indi.” 

Indika looks at her curiously, and then softly smirks at Mimi’s sincerity. 

“You do know that I think you are the most beautiful person in the galaxy, right?” the Twi’lek continues with a sultry air, leaning closer into her. She runs her pink hand down Indika’s braid, then trails it up to her jawline, and ghosts her index finger across the length of her facial tattoo. She then tucks a piece of hair that hangs across her eyes behind her long, elegant ear. Mimi tilts her head slightly, observing her hands on Indika’s face. “I like how my skin looks on yours.”

Indika’s mouth falls slightly open in disbelief, and she looks up at Mimi with a mix of adoration and anticipation. “You really think pink’s my colour?”

“Yeah, actually. I really like pink on you,” she rests her hand on Indika’s shoulder, then drags her fingers across the exposed skin of her chest, debating whether or not to give into her desires and dip into the softness of her cleavage. “Well, my pink anyway.” 

Indika’s hands have come to rest on Mimi’s waist during this interaction, and her purple nails tease at her soft skin. She notices Mimi’s soft gasp at the contact, and begins to lower her fingers. 

She wants to feel those hips: the hips she has watched Mimi sway night after night beneath bright pink lights. She wants to caress the dips at the top of her legs that flash from beneath her skirts when she dances. The warmth of those thighs…

Indika’s thoughts are interrupted when she notices Mimi’s face lighting up, and she knows at once that the pop-star has had one of her ideas.

“What are you thinking, Mimi?” 

She looks like she is about to burst with excitement. "I want to do your make-up."

“My make-up?”

“Yes!” She claps her hands. “Let me do a pink look on you."

“But I just took mine off.”

“So?”

She smiles. Though she wasn't expecting this tonight, Indika is rather intrigued at seeing one of Mimi’s iconic looks on herself. It could be fun. But what really sells her is being up close and personal with Mimi, her fingers on her skin, her breath on her face.

“Of course, Mi. Do my make-up.”

“Let’s get more comfortable,” Mimi exclaims in victory, as she takes Indika’s hand and pulls her into her bedroom, the contents of which is a just mattress on the ground surrounded by more beauty products, clothes and jewellery. She encourages Indika to lie down on her back, as Mimi scurries around the room grabbing the tools to work her magic.

Mimi climbs on top of Indika, her legs either side of the smaller hybrid’s hips. The skin of their legs touch, the two wearing a mix of their undergarments, clothes and sleepwear. Indika feels Mimi squeeze her between her thighs, and a rush of heat caresses her spine.

“Close your eyes,” Mimi instructs with a whisper, and Indika does, her heart beginning to race as she senses Mimi close to her face. She is attentive to the gentle movements of Mimi’s fingers and the make up brush she uses, appreciating how soothing it feels as she begins to softly work the pink makeup across the pale skin of her eyelid. 

Mimi then notices the tender caress of Indika’s palm on her leg, and gasps as subtly as she can, the softness of Indika’s fingers triggering a swarm of warmth beneath her pierced belly button. Mimi tries to ignore her sudden and vibrant desires, and begins applying the make-up to Indika’s other eye. But the heat remains, and she is distracted enough that she accidentally flicks some neon pink make-up on Indika’s forehead. 

“Oops,” Mimi says with a giggle, wiping away the excess eyeshadow she spilled across Indika’s eyebrow with her thumb. She moves a piece of Indika’s hair aside, slightly brushing against the base of her right horn. Indika takes a sharp breath in, the softness of Mimi’s fingers there causing her to thrum with equal parts heat and weightlessness.

Indika’s eyes flutter open, her violet eyes irises now gazing up at the Twi’lek mounting her. Mimi looks back down at her in awe, her lekku resting in front of her shoulders. She is relishing in the touch of the hybrid’s hands on her skin, the warmth of her palm, the dexterity of her fingers. She wants to tell her to keep going, lower, lower, lower…

“You’re so pretty, Mimi,” Indika whispers, the sweet words are heartfelt, sincere. Her hand begins to slowly trace upwards, lingering at Mimi’s hip, tracing the waistband of her shorts. Mimi holds her breath and blinks softly, the tension between them charged and thick, brimming with intimacy. Her heart beats wildly in her chest, her insides fluttering with lightness. She smirks through her nervous anticipation, a sultry smile painting her pink lips as her desire for the woman beneath her soars. She tosses aside the make-up brush and leans further forward, her arms resting either side of Indika's face.

“Do you really think so?” she asks coyly, hopefully.

“Yes,” Indika says. Her lavender gaze washes across the Twi’leks face as her fingers trail back down to squeeze the softness of Mimi’s upper thigh. A charged pause, and then:

“Kiss me, Mimi.”

Mimi whimpers softly as her suspicions are confirmed, and is enthralled to be able to finally kiss her best friend. She shuts her vibrant eyes and leans closer, ghosting her lips on Indika’s. She kisses her softly at first, and Indika inhales, her hands gripping Mimi tighter, sliding up from her legs to her hips and waist. She shifts upwards, taking control of the kiss and deepening it, slipping her tongue into Mimi’s mouth. They both moan, the kiss a sweet relief from the beautifully taught tension that has been brewing for too long between them.

Indika suddenly breaks the kiss, and Mimi whimpers at the loss. Then she swiftly flips the two of them around, so that Indika is on top of her. Mimi gasps as she slides her leg between her thighs, and Indi groans as she feels the warmth of her lover through her shorts. Mimi sighs at the flare of lust unfurling in her lower back, and her legs open further of their own accord, inviting Indika into her, desperate for her touch.

“Indika…” she mutters between kisses and moans, her hybrid lover grinding her upper leg into Mimi’s heat. “You want me?”

“I want you,” Indika confirms, pulling back to look at her. She’s so glorious beneath her, with her light blue eyes sparkling in lust, the remnants of silver make-up glittering on her skin, her lips plump and glistening from Indika’s kisses. Indi glides her palms down Mimi’s lekku, which make her shiver and writhe in heated despair beneath her. “Let me show you just how much I want you, pretty girl.” She teases a finger at Mimi’s mouth, lightly pulling at her bottom lip. 

“Please,” Mimi begs. Indika indulges her, pouncing on her and planting hot, wet kisses on her neck, trailing her hungry lips down her lean body. When she reaches her chest, she helps Mimi sit up so she can peel off her shirt, freeing her perk, pink breasts. She circles her small nipples with her tongue, flicking her piercing against the sensitive flesh. Mimi groans, arching her back and pushing her breast further into her lover's mouth. Indika begins to suck on her nipple, which leads into licking and lapping at both of her breasts. She trails her tongue and teeth up to Mimi's neck, nipping and marking her skin with the depth of her desire.

Indika is enlightened at the taste of her skin, sweetened by the remnant scent of her floral perfume. She nudges her thin nose against the base of Mimi's sensitive lekku, and purrs when she feels Mimi become undone beneath her.

"More," Mimi whimpers, needy, desperate. "I need so much more of you, Indi."

"I'll give you whatever you want," Indika promises. "I'm going to make those pretty lips sing for me, Mimi."

Mimi hums in satisfaction, and the two of them indulge in one another, exploring the blossoming sweetness of their bodies for the first time, truly making the night their own with decadent kisses, wild hands and dripping lust.

-

tagging some friends in case u r interested: @stardustbee @kimageddon @sinisterexaggerator​ @frogunderarock​ @grinningnexu​

#star wars fanfiction #wlw #happy pride #mimi mirage #indika promia #indika x mimi #mimi x indika #wlw fic #space lesbians #star wars #star wars fic #eloquentmoon #pumpkinmischief #twi'lek #twi'lek oc #hybrid oc #devaronian oc #lesbian fic #lesbian fanfiction #star wars lesbians #star wars art #star wars oc #star wars ocs

[pyromism]

OC that I'm thinking about drawing so I'll just type their entire file here.

Codename: Lagswitch

Name: Delta Spade

Age: Currently Unknown

Appearance: A Blonde Woman with Blue Eyes, Wears a Black shirt and light brown jacket, and Denim Jeans

Ability: Self-Lag

This ability allows the user to create a mirage of themself, and becomes detached from this world temporarily, before reappearing to their desired position in which case the mirage disappears.

During this process the Mirage cannot move, speak, cast abilities, etc. And only faces the direction the user casted their ability.

Sub-Ability: Switch

The user can apply Self-Lag onto opponents, self-lag when used on opponents makes them.... Lag in a game sense in which these symptoms occur:

1. The opponent's mind is faster than the body, making their attacks late although the mind had already decided on the move.

2. The opponent's vision makes it so that everything that moves appears and disappears as if everyone stopped and then was immediately somewhere else.

True State: Lagswitch

Everyone in the user's vicinity will begin to lag with the only person being unaffected is the user, during this state the Mirages of everyone can be attacked and the damage will be transfered to their true body once the ability is turned off.

Backstory: Delta was born in the Underground Society along with her parents Jacob Spade and Chara Spade, she wasn't given much attention being the only child they had that didn't have any abilities from birth, Delta wasn't disheartened by this and became a wizard, except.... She wasn't good at any of it, as her Magic Output was.... Close to non existent, using Magic Shards as a substitute to cast Magic, it was expensive to say the least and she doesn't have that kind of money to do that repeatedly, she then studied Runic Magic as it was the only type of Magic that didn't require the use of mana that comes from your body, although it did work for her greatly, this just made her more jealous of her own sister, who is capable of doing the same things she studied for, tenfold.

At their graduation, Delta was filled with jealousy, but she never hated her sister, in fact she was proud of her but just couldn't accept that she was inferior to her sister, she stormed off the ceremony without claiming her diploma, in which then..... She fell from the world.

[Data following these events are the aftermath of the Event.]

"I woke up from a terrible nightmare, it was a dark space only filled with mirrors, there I saw myself, or... My selves....they didn't mock me, belittle me, nor anything alike.... They just stood there, judging me."

"I heard my mother calling to me, it's the time of my graduation..... Wasn't that yesterday?"

"I heard the loud cheers of everyone as they clap for my sister, she wasn't the best.... But she sure as hell was good at almost everything."

"I... I think I fell asleep, it's.... Nighttime? I should get home."

[Data following this event is the aftermath of the Event.]

"I had that same dream again.... I heard those same words... Hours later, the same lines, the same cheers."

[Data following the event is a wonderful one.]

"I could've sworn that I was here and hour ago, was I early? Was I late?...... Why is it repeating?"

[The Data that follows is from the wonderful one.]

"As far as I know it's been years....... I didn't seem to age, nor grow any hair, it's like that one movie that the day keeps repeating over and over......"

[Was there any data to be extracted in the first place?]

"I heard a different noise that time..... It sounds like it's calling me.... Am I dead? Hahaha hahaha, hope not."

[Where were we?]

"This is getting boring.....i figured that I couldn't change the events that occur, and... I don't seem to exist as nobody ever noticed me, no one paid attention, no one looked for me, nothing."

[Oh yeah there it is! I kept looking for that everywhere.]

"I tried looking for everything that might give me a sign, but.... I found none."

"The voices had stopped, everything has stopped, the days no longer repeat, and it is the same endless night I've trapped myself in."

"I went to the circus to find a house of mirrors, in which I lied down and stared at myself for hours."

"How long has it been since I've heard something different?"

"The Mirrors have stopped working."

"I could no longer see myself."

"Maybe it's all just a dream."

"that I will never wake up from."

[Data up to this point was extracted.]

(will delete this after I draw the OC.)

#ocs #oc #character design #original character #short story #original post #I found some sort of glitch in the days that kept repeating it seems as if someone was responsible for it.... I must find it.

[tenebristhequeen]

VALACCHIA'S BACKSTORY (DnD OC)

/ There may be some errors since English is not my first language, please let me know if I made mistakes, it helps me improve! /

Born and raised in the dense vegetation of the Scarlet Forest, so called for the scarlet color of the tree trunks, Valacchia has never had contact with the human world, on the contrary, she had always been told by her parents that it was a horrible, dangerous and lethal, especially for centaurs, in the past enslaved to be used as "workers" in the fields.

Her mother, Caliba, was a centaur who blindly followed the traditions, putting them even before family itself, in fact, she almost seemed to dislike her own daughter, both because she has always had a very rebellious personality, and because she was born strangely larger than the other female centaurs, making her appear more "masculine" and therefore "strong".

His father, Belihan, was not so different, because the village had been following, until that moment, the rules of the Ancient Scarlet, a sort of religion essentially based on control, imparted by the old pack leader, who called himself Douglas, The Crimson Hoof.

While Valacchia was still very young, Crimson Hoof suddenly disappeared, the same day a new centaur arrived, called Mirage, who claimed to have defeated Douglas in combat.

In the absence of Douglas' corpse, many were skeptical, but BECAUSE of the absence of Douglas himself, Mirage became the new pack leader.

Because of his very tolerant, kind, yet thoughtful and fair leadership, the sanctimonious village gave him the name of Mirage, The Weak Blood.

Many tried to take Mirage's place, discovering to their detriment that he was not weak at all, despite his kindness.

Valacchia grew up with him, seeing much more of a father in Mirage than in Beliahn, as he fed her curiosity and taught her to appreciate herself exactly as she was, as well as to assert her own opinions, boundaries, etc.

It was Mirage who gave her *two* heart-shaped marks made with magic, as a way to always remember their bond, like a tattoo.

Unfortunately, on what should have been a beautiful spring day, a challenger arrived, his name was Azoth, and he claimed to be the son of the defeated Douglas.

Apparently Douglas had indeed been defeated in battle, but his life was spared by Mirage's good heart.

The battle was brutal and bloody, with the village clearly taking the side of the challenger.

Valacchia wanted to help, to do something! But she was too afraid, and she saw her mentor and "father" perish under the hooves of an Azoth who knew no mercy.

As tradition wants, the new pack leader is allowed to choose a bride to start the new generation.

While Mirage didn't want to choose anyone, knowing that this would have been an imposition and not a genuine love, Azoth pointed his finger at Valacchia, seeing her as a good genetic match to create future warriors... no love, not even mere physical attraction.

No one gave her support, on the contrary, she was physically dragged by her father to the new home where she was supposed to stay with her "husband".

Desperate, she summoned all of her strength to free herself from her father's grip, kicking directly at Azoth's face, slashing his eye.

In the frenzy of the moment, Valacchia ran like the wind, deep into the Scarlet Forest, towards its borders, and to the one place where, presumably, she would be most difficult to search for, even though she knew well that Azoth would never give up claiming his new bride, as it is seen as "weak" behavior to give up a "rebellious" bride and choose a more "well behaved" one.

Valacchia ran as fast as she could, until it was almost impossible for her to stand on her hooves, she didn't eat or drink for days, too scared of being dragged back.

She fell unconscious on a distant plain, where she was found by humans.

Eda, a human woman, married to Alan the Smith, also a human.

The two managed, with some difficulty, to load Valacchia onto their cart, taking her to their farm on the edge of the city of Odwir but not to enslave her, but to save her.

It took a while for the poor centaur to fully recover and trust these humans, but she soon realized that they were nothing like what had been described to her, and ended up bonding very much with them, especially with the couple's daughter, Krita, becoming almost like a big sister.

Almost ten years passed and Valacchia grew up happy and strong, also learning how to be a blacksmith, while never forgetting Mirage and his teachings.

When the day came when a nobleman, named Avelia, arrived to try to take Odwir by force, Valacchia found himself once again seeing how a tyrant tried to take over, only this time, the entire Odwir was in the situation of impotence in which Wallachia was years before.

Poor Krita was targeted by the tyrant, who tried to take her away with the threat of having her parents arrested.

Valacchia's anger grew out of all proportion, feeling a desire for justice that could not be contained! This time, she wasn't going to stand by while those she loved were hurt!

She forcefully charged towards the group of guards, causing Avelia to flee to his "palace" (A mansion from which he had evicted the owners, throwing them out), after kidnapping Krita.

She took as many tools as possible: hammers, sickles, hoes and whatnot, everything was fine.

She incited the people to rebellion, led them into battle and faced Avelia bravely, also managing to win the battle and recover Krita, also thanks to her size and strength.

With Avelia on the ground, bleeding and now defeated, Valacchia Followed Mirage's example, leaving him alive to lick his wounds.

Avelia, cowardly, waited for Valacchia to turn with Krita in her arms, before grabbing a crossbow from the corpse of one of his soldiers, and shoot Valacchia.

She was lucky, her bolt passed through without seriously injuring her, but it hit Krita in the process right through her chest, while she was held in the arms of her now older sister.

Krita smiled weakly, clinging to Valacchia.

< Sister...I'm so tired...I'll rest a while..Ok? Then I'll bride your hair...just like when we were little..I love you >

She managed, not having the courage to say goodbye even though she knew she was dying.

Valacchia SCREAMED with all her strength, and, there, her nature definitively took a different turn from Mirage's...She turned, angry, galloping on Avelia's body, trampled it with her powerful hooves, again and again while tears blurred her vision.

That gruesome sight was enough to frighten the few remaining soldiers.

When Valacchia recovered, a shapeless pulp of blood, bones and shreds of clothing was all that was left of the tyrant.

She brought Krita's lifeless body home, cried with her family, and had a third heart branded where she already had two, so both Krita and Mirage will always be with her, even if only in the heart.

After that day, Valacchia made the decision to leave Odwir to travel and help the weak, defending them from tyrants.

Using any means necessary.

Valacchia is 10 feet tall (from her hooves to her head)

#cikkibrì (ooc) #tw long post #picture of Valacchia at the end #I'll try to add her to the muses as a Selective muse

[lilcommander]

Asura Appreciation Week - Day One

Talk about one of your asura OCs! Who are they? What's their Deal™?

I humbly submit my Asura Commander to the Council of Sharkrats for perusal.

BEHOLD! Marriac!

/showright /showleft

Marriac has been my main in this game since 2016; after convincing my friends to try this game, they collectively agreed to all play humans so they're all in the same starting area, I tried to play one but not long after I decided to switch to Asura and never looked back.

Marri here is my 'canon' Pact Commander, closely following the events of the game outside of one major event during LWS2 where a leyline experiment may or may not have scrambled her natural magic but we dont need to talk about that right now, ha ha ha...

While her class may be a Mirage Mesmer; I headcanon that she is more of a Holomancer, where her clones and phantasms are hard-light projections combined with some Golemancy tech thanks to her backpack buddy

Thanks to a friend of mine, I have a habit of creating music playlists for various characters of my own; with Marri being no different; I'll admit I might need to update this come SotO (Last Surprise was added shortly after Path of Fire showed off Mirage)

Alright, I think thats enough rambling for today; regardless, I sincerely love this gremlin of mine with my entire heart. And that playing Asura has rewired my brain to play any diminutive choice in an rpg, whether they be Gnome, Lalafell or Goblin

@asura-appreciation-corner

#Guild Wars 2 #GW2 #Marriac #Asura #AsuraAppreciationWeek

[ct-cactus]

Posting for the first time in four months, so I decided to introduce another one of my OC’s! I literally just created it today, and would appreciate any thoughts or criticism! This OC pertains to the Transformers fandom.

///////

Name: Breach

Affiliation: Autobot

Position: Special Operations

Age: equivalent to early 20s

-adult frame

Alt Mode:

-Aspark Owl

Height:

-15 feet and 10.2 inches

Weight:

-4,189 lbs

—————————————————————

MY OTHER HEADCANONS ABOUT BREACH

- [ ] They/Them pronouns

- [ ] Doorwings

- [ ] Works in Spec Ops

- [ ] Extremely good at their job

- [ ] Comedy to cope

- [ ] Cares about their teammates like they’re family

- [ ] Goes to Swerve’s bar a lot

-finds Swerve to be a good friend

-looks out for Swerve when others talk shit

- [ ] Subsequently adopted by the minibots aboard the Lost Light

- [ ] Speaks many languages due to their job but cannot for the life of them figure out what Beacon is trying to say

-made it their mission to attempt communication

- [ ] ✨trauma✨

- [ ] Despises romcoms

-thinks they’re stupid

- [ ] Terrible sleep schedule

-like it’s absolutely horrendous

- [ ] Has to be dragged kicking and screaming to the medibay

- [ ] Before working directly under Jazz with his team, Breach was assigned to a different section of the Autobot Army

-their old CO, Silverclaw, was the worst mech

-Silverclaw held no regard to the safety of Breach and their teammates

-Breach and the others were thrown into situations where they had no knowledge on what to do

-the CO was corrupt and abusive, and used his rank and authority to better his own position

-soon, Breach and Flutter, their teammate whom they viewed as their sister, were the only two remaining

-the two of them would be joined by Silverclaw on their next mission, where they would be teaming up with Jazz’s crew

-immediately, Jazz and his crew knew something wasn’t right, but they didn’t have time to act on their suspicions

-on the mission, the CO ended up causing noise, breaking their cover

-as the Decepticons fired upon them, Silverclaw grabbed Flutter, who was closest, and used her as a shield

-she died immediately, and Breach, who witnessed what just happened, lost it

-they let their SpecOps coding take control, and killed every ‘con in the room before putting Silverclaw in a chokehold

*in my headcanon, inspired from fics, SpecOps mechs sometimes have to adapt, download, play, and fake different mindsets and other stuff in order to complete a job; when on a job, SpecOps are trained to focus on the job only, nothing else (essentially, they are guided by high stake survival instincts; this makes them very dangerous after missions, and are required to be subdued and taken care of as they come back to a clearer state of mind)*

-Breach, running on these instincts coupled with the loyalty to Flutter and hatred for their CO, tries to kill him

-Jazz quickly intervenes, forcing Breach into a shutdown, while Bumblebee and Mirage arrest Silverclaw

-ever since, Jazz and his team work with Breach, who eventually relearns to trust authority

-the team grows a strong bond, becoming one big family

-Breach is still sad about Flutter

- [ ] Likes pulling pranks

-will sometimes team up with the Lambo Twins

- [ ] Doesn’t know the word “self care”

- [ ] Depressed

- [ ] “That’s what she said!”

- [ ] Jazz and Prowl are their go-to that help calm them down after missions, but if they aren’t available then Breach goes to either Mirage or Bumblebee

/////////

I decided that Breach is part of a universe that is a mix of MTMTE and G1; I can explain what I mean if you want. Anyways, I have some memes and incorrect quotes too if this is liked enough or anyone wants it. Please let me know your thoughts!!

BEACON, who communicates by using their lights to talk in Morse code, is a character belonging to @justashana

#transformers lost light #idw transformers #transformers #macaddams #oc #original transformers character #original character #Breach #autobots #transformers jazz #transformers prowl #tf jazz #tf prowl #tf #idw swerve #autobot Breach #g1 #transformers g1 #decepticons

[cherryasagiri]

Morning Routine

pairing: Jason x oc

summary: A collection of one-shots of the daily family dynamics of the Wayne/Bat family through the tired eyes of the married daughter of Bruce Wayne, Nafula. Some will be continuations, and others won't.

next

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The gentle breeze outside her windows makes a faint whistling sound as the birds outside sing along to the subtle tune of the crisp morning air. A light melodic ring sounds off close by, accompanied by the tiny vibrations that match the melody, slowly began to wake her from her calming dreams. It's the only place she can find peace in this mansion. She slowly rose, eyes slightly stinging from the gentle rays that protruded through her favorite black curtains. The curtains create a mirage that their room stays pitch black throughout the day. It is one of her favorite environments to sleep in alone. Her alarm goes off suddenly, her eyesight adjusting to the light as she sits up entirely on her bed. She stretched her arms roughly, followed by a gigantic yawn coming out of her mouth; Nafula was ready to take on the day, feeling amazing for the first time in a while.

That is until someone decided to ruin it. In a split second, her bedroom door slammed open with much force, causing the young woman to practically jump out of her skin from the sudden surprise.

"Ugh, hey babe, can you feed the kid? I tried feeding her, but she wouldn't eat, so I'm giving—"

With a strong throw of her pillow, the soft object landed harshly on the intruding male's face. She was definitely not happy about what he said.

"Shut the fuck up and go feed my daughter!" She yells at him, the male in trouble giving her the loudest sigh he could muster.

“Ughhhhhhh fiiiiiinnnneeeeee… I should step on your pillow."

"I will fucking kill you."

"Pshh, like that hasn't happened before."

"Jason!!"

"Alright, alright… you're lucky I'm madly in love with your mean ass." And with that, Jason picks up the discarded pillow, and frisbee throws it onto their shared bed, and of course, he sticks the landing. Jason gently closes the door to leave you to your thoughts with a small celebratory cheer to himself.

Nafula sighed, cracked her neck, tore off her bonnet, jumped out of bed, and headed towards the kitchen. She only took a few strides before she noticed that her little brother Damien was leaving his own room to catch breakfast in time. She knew that he was getting tired of Alfred scolding him for missing the most important meal of the day. She chuckled gently, placing her hands behind her back with a slight mischievous smirk gracing her lips as she scurried over to him.

"Good morning to my cute little brother! How are you this morning~?" She sang to him, much to the dismay of her younger brother.

"Sister, as much as I enjoy your presence more than the other idiots in this family, it is too early in the morning for your cheery optimism," he groaned. Nafula glanced down at the shorter male to see slight bags under his eyes. She smiled genuinely, a hand reaching up to pat the young boy on his head before walking past him and walking into the kitchen.

There, she saw her sweet 5-year-old daughter sitting on a stack of books on the fairy chair her doting mother bought her with the cutest pout she could muster. She was worried about why her daughter was upset but couldn't help but think that she was just too cute to her mom, so she wasn't going to ask just yet. Nafula walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, grabbing the half-full carton of orange juice and taking it straight to the head, much to Alfred's disgust. He dared not to scold the eldest biological child of Bruce because he knew she wasn't going to listen to a word he said, just like when she was a child. All he decided to do was hand the 5-year-old girl a plate of food he made for her and the rest of the family when Jason failed to feed his own daughter.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, my sweet, adorable baby girl?"

"Daddy tried to give me hot Cheetos and iced tea for breakfast, and when I said no, he… he… he left and said I can't tell you."

Nafula's cheerful expression quickly changed from that to disdain. And just right on cue, her idiot husband decided to waltz right into the kitchen to grab himself a plate. He then noticed his wife's mood was sour and automatically knew it was directed towards him and that he somehow fucked up. With a slight glare landing at his daughter, she returned it with a mischievous grin while darting her eyes from him to her mom and back to him.

"Oh, you little shit– ow!" he exclaimed; the back of his head was now throbbing from the slap his wife inflicted upon him.

"Watch your fucking language around, my child!" She started, "What did I tell you about feeding her junk for breakfast?!" she yelled. Alfred ignored the bickering couple, grabbed Amena's now empty plate to wash later, and continued with his morning routine before Bruce eventually came down to eat. The little girl just staring at her parents, thinking that their fighting is pure comedy.

"You just cursed yourself, Fula. What the hell!"

"Jason, I do not care. I will–"

"Kill me. I know I know you abusive as–" Jason stopped himself mid-sentence when he noticed his wife's hand reaching up for another strike. "Beautiful woman you are. I will never feed our precious daughter junk food again."

The exhausted woman lost her appetite at that moment, glancing over at her daughter as she watched the petite girl consume the food Alfred made with much enthusiasm. She was happy to see her daughter enjoying the little things in life. Before she let herself continue to be distracted, Nafula waved off everyone in the room, yawning lightly.

"I'll come to eat in a bit. Alfred, could you set my food off to the side, please? I appreciate you. And Amena? Make sure you come to mommy's room when you're done!" She reminded her child, who mumbled incoherent words with food stuffed in her mouth.

She chuckled lightly, walking away to her room. Once she got there, she trudged over to the bathroom in her room to brush her teeth and wash her face. Nafula forced herself over to the fluffy king bed she shared with her husband as she finished up; The short woman immediately hopped on the bed with the last little strength she had and swiftly fell fast asleep, letting the softness of the comforter whisk her away.

Several hours later, she awoke to her daughter sleeping on the bottom of the mattress, half the day already gone.

"…fuck”

"You're such a bad mom, Nafula,"

"FUCK YOU, Jason!!"

#fanfic #fanfiction #dcu fanfic #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #black coded reader #original character #damian wayne #fluff

[oneirataxia-girl]

TUA anon here again! I didn’t know Emmy and Telepath weren't supposed to be bigger OCs that's interesting.

If that's the case, can I pose the same question for Mirage? I know so much about her already but the basics evade me. Thank you already again mwah mwah mwah!

*pulls up a google doc of Mirage lore* yeah tbh I think I did a rather good job of hiding her most important secrets. Mirage is by far the most complicated oc I have so far (and probably one of the oldest) so here are some stuff that I probably haven’t said much abt her!

Mirage is the only one of the cerebral trio who stays at the Commission, so by necessity, AJ made her his successor (out of the three Telepath is the one with the best relationship with AJ, Mirage argues a lot with the fish)

she has the power to create illusions in other people’s minds. for example, she can make a person think there’s a spider in front of them, but to everyone else, the place is empty

Mirage is actually not the baby AJ acquired - the baby he found is named Veracity; but due to traumatic events in her childhood, Veracity developed dissociative identity disorder (also called DID), and the other personality is called Mirage

after the Handler takeover, Veracity was put under and made to take on continuous missions to prevent her from trying to wrestle control back; during this period, Mirage managed to convince Veracity to give her the wheel, since Veracity is about as queasy with killing as Emmy is with any kind of maiming

Mirage is much more proficient in their shared illusionist powers, and successfully fools her monitors into thinking she’s on another assignment when in reality, she gets herself to 1963 Dallas just in time to put a bullet through the Handler’s head

I feel like Veracity and Mirage have a 40-60 love-hate relationship. Veracity hates Mirage for dealing so many casualties in their shared body and being indifferent to Telepath and Emmy’s problems in the outside world, but on the flip side, it’s because of Mirage’s ruthlessness that they were able to survive -- had Mirage been a little kinder or let slip she cared for Telepath and Emmy, they would’ve gotten an early "retirement" and wouldn’t be able to restructure the Commission like they wanted

and I almost forgot, at one point (before Veracity/Mirage was molded into a model assassin), the Handler had them buried alive in an attempt to kill them; had Mirage not created an illusion to manipulate people into freeing them, they would’ve been declared dead

it’s because of this incident (and a few other attempts) that the Handler that she needed to exhaust their power before they could be killed. otherwise, no matter what method of execution she tries, Mirage would always have an illusion ready to protect themselves

Lila and Veracity never meet, but after Mirage takes place as head of the Commission, she personally goes to Lila to offer her condolences at her mother’s death (she taunts the other woman until Lila throws a cup at her). she’s also the one to offer Lila the choice to leave the Commission instead of plain old killing her (Veracity bullied her into agreeing)

I actually have a playlist for Mirage! it’s here if you wanna give it a listen

#oc: mirage carmichael #alvita's answers #anon my beloved

[harbouredsoulss]

LURK

Author's note: You have no idea how happy I am to post again! 💞

I've been working on this for a while and am so excited to finally share this with you all. This is set to be a series, with the current number of parts unknown (though I'm currently working on that).

I also appreciate every single person who helped me when I was trying to work out how long my posts should be! You were all super helpful 🥰

warning(s): violence. mention of stalking. blood. a hint of smut. friends x lovers! panic.

pairing(s): ez reyes x [OC] ivána

word count: 2.3 k

summary: Ivána has a secret. She is in danger, and has kept this from everyone including her best friend Ez. What happens when this danger finally comes for her?

Nights alone were truly unbearable, though Ivána knew she was never truly alone.

There was always that heavy feeling -an inexplicable feeling that haunted her, to the point where she knew that he had to be out there watching her each and every move. The feeling clung to her, never abating.

Her home was locked down with the doors bolted shut, and windows sealed and secured. She had made it into a fortress since the first time he had made his intentions clear. She knew his kind; had seen it before. They liked to toy with their prey, and strike fear into their hearts, not long before they consumed them, body and soul.

Ivána knew she was just biding her time before the games would truly begin. The intimidation thus far had been nothing but mere warning of what was to come.

She lay in bed, tossing and turning, thoughts all consuming. She knew what she could do to make the problem go away. The police would be the best place to start and a smart move at that. Though that wasn’t who she was really considering turning to.

There were people she knew and trusted enough to protect her from harm. She had connections with people from all walks of life, some of which she grew up with, some of them considered family.

Her best friend, the one she had been secretly in love with for the majority of her life, Ezekiel Reyes, would do anything for her and she knew that. But she couldn’t bring herself to drag him into her mess. He had already gone through enough; he doesn’t need her problems added to his list.

At some point in the night, she did fall asleep. She fell to the faint pitter patter of the rain, which was rare for Santo Padre. It soothed her restless thoughts, and nudged her slowly to an unbroken sleep.

For once her dreams were not filled with terror, though there was still a flicker of anxiety as her thoughts shaped and manifested to their final form. In her dreams she spoke to EZ, hands caressing his face softly, lips barely a breath a part, whispering to him, telling him the truth, and allowing all her fears to be released. She allowed him to protect her. He encased her in his arms creating a barrier that separated her physical form from all the uncertainties her life was set to face -that plagued her mind incessantly.

Her mind gave in to her desires, ones she not would let happen in the real world. It allowed her a glimpse at what safety and love would truly feel like.

Unlucky for her, the dreams did not last, it was the arrogant sound of her alarm which happened to choose that precise moment, when her thoughts morphed into something more illicit, to interfere with her reverie. The idea of snoozing the alarm was tempting, as was remaining in bed hidden within the confines of her room. Though she knew she would be missed, and staying here, locking herself inside forever, would arouse suspicion.

The hospital would be nothing more than a brief reprieve from the game she had been made part of.

At least that’s what she told herself.

It wouldn’t stop her from looking over her shoulder as she made rounds, checking each bathroom stall, and cataloguing each individual in a waiting room. She was in a minefield and was sure to explode if she made the wrong move.

He had been doing this for quite some time now, though usually he left her alone at work. He left toying with her for when she was alone with no one to reach out to for help. He knew her hours, when she would begin her shift and when it would end. She figured he had someone hack into the hospital’s servers and access her roster. She also knew that if he was not going to be physically present, there would always be someone else from within his inner circle there to stalk her.

She stood in her bathroom, scrubs gripped tightly in her hands, eyes glaring at the fabric as she debated her choices. Her skin was like ice, with goosebumps coating her flesh as she stood there naked in the room, allowing her mind to tick over like a clock. She didn’t want to leave, and it took every ounce of strength she had to force her body to cooperate.

Her mind was at war with itself. Different parts of it were broken up over what she should do. Parts of her wanted to run and hide, whilst the other parts wanted her to stay, too scared to step a toe out of line and be killed.

Her eyes remained locked on her reflection, fingers tracing the length of her skin, up and down, from the curve of her breasts to soft bump of her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as the soft movement of her fingers pulled her into trance.

It was kaleidoscope of colour that flickered beneath her eyelids as her body began to relax. Soon the mirage of colour transformed in to one whole image of Ez and herself.

Their limbs were intertwined, sliding against one another intimately. His breathing hot against the crook of her neck, fingers torturing her in the most delicious way possible. Sliding down the slope of her body, caressing her breasts, kneading her tender flesh as they ventured lower. They slipped between her thighs, and began rubbing her gently and softly. Edging her, at a leisurely pace, to her release.

It was a sound reminiscent to that of a gunshot that shook Ivána from her fantasy and filled her to the brim with terror.

She moved as fast her body would allow, though it resulted in her tangling herself in her scrubs, tripping over her own feet as tried to dress herself. She could hear the thrum of her heart pounding in her ears as she made her body move towards the living room, grasping onto the baseball bat she kept hidden behind her couch.

It was at that point she came to the realisation that it was not a gunshot she had heard, only what sounded like one. What she had heard was actually the sound of someone banging themselves against her front door.

She had every intention of calling out and demanding the name of whoever it was that was trying to take down her door, but it was the fear that froze her where she stood. She knew with every fibre of her being that the person on the other side of the door was not a friend.

It was only when she took a few hesitant steps away from the couch towards the entryway that the wood began splintering and a large crack struck through the length of the wooden panelled door.

Particles of dust and wood chips scattered across the floor as the banging continued. Her knuckles turned white; her circulation sure to cut off as she continued to grip the handle of the baseball bat, tighter and tighter.

She could hear whoever it was grunting as they continued to throw their body against the door.

It went on for a limited time, mere minutes, before she saw her front door fly off its hinges, bang against her hallway table, and land right before her feet.

A jolt of surprise and dread iced her veins as she took in the scene before her. It was only one man.

It took only one man to break into my home.

Recognition sparked as the cog wheels in her mind began to turn.

His face was red, with beads of sweat clinging to his flesh, soaking his brown hair, and plastering it against his face.

Ivána had seen this man before.

He smiled at her faintly, chest heaving, struggling to catch his breath. He held up his hand, his index finger pointed upwards.

“One…. Moment…” he rasped out; face still flushed as he struggled to catch his breath.

Her eyes were fixed on him, as he stood there both hands pressed on either side of the door frame, his head hanging low. It was a surprising sight for her. One that took an edge off the fear that was gripping her.

There was no awareness of time as she stood there like a deer caught in headlights. All the awareness was honed in on the man before her and his breathing, and how much easier it was starting to become. She knew she was running out of time, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

It didn’t take too long for his demeanour to change. No longer was his mouth agape with salvia bubbling at his lips, slipping down his chin as he tried to capture his breath. He brought his hand to his mouth and begun wiping it slowly, removing any hint of weakness as he did so.

Finally, he took a step towards her, entering her home, stepping on the broken door.

“Let me guess,” she started, taking a step back, “you’re one of David’s men?”

Her fingers curled tightly around the handle of the bat, using all the strength within her, to hold herself up right. The target she’s had on her back, the dread, anticipation, never quite knowing when he would strike. It was always clear that he was waiting for the right moment, which had now come.

The intruder nodded in return, making sure to smile at her wickedly.

“Matteo.” He answered, though she had no care for his name. Being one of David’s lackies was all she needed to know.

Ivána ignored him and instead widened her stance, preparing her body for the inevitable swing that she would take.

Matteo took another step towards her, chest heaving. The knock down of the door had clearly taken a lot out of him, although he tried to show her otherwise.

He didn’t appear to be too old, though she could tell he was not in his prime.

“You know why I’ve come; I assume?”

“To finally take me?” She guessed with a slight shrug to her shoulders, stance still wide, arms ready to swing, “though after that little performance, you shouldn’t feel too confident on your mission being a success.”

He wasn’t fazed by the scorn notable in her voice. He just stood there with his hands on his hips; a smirk plastered on his face, pure excitement gleaming in his eyes.

His gaze remained locked on hers, never wavering, though that was not before he allowed it to lingered down her body slowly, zeroing in on the weapon in her hand. It transformed his smirk into something more wicked; sickening.

“Oh, baby girl,” he said, voice thick and husky, almost as if the mere sight of her holding a weapon turned him on. He licked his lips, clucking his tongue as he did so, with an evil gleam now luminous in his eyes, “surely you must know that it’s a massive turn on when you think you can fight back.”

“You’re disgusting,” she spat; voice laced with venom, “you and your entire crew are nothing but pigs. If your boss wants me, he can come and get me himself.”

He laughed, a hearty kind of laugh. One full of promise.

He began his attack.

_____________________

Blood trickled down the sharp edges of the blade at an unhurried pace. Each drop leaving a faint echo throughout the room one might miss if they weren’t listening out carefully.

Ivána stood there frozen, arms rigid, and glued to her side, clutching the kitchen knife. Her breathing ragged, chest heaving with every painful intake of breath. Her body was battered with cuts, and bruises which, unbeknownst to her, had already begun developing across her flesh. There was no mistaking the red, angry, marks on her skin that were sure to ache, leaving a clear reminder as to what had happened. Perhaps the physical marring of flesh would clear, in time. Though that moment, standing frozen over her assailant’s body, knife caked in blood, would never fade.

Her body convulsed, though she was unaware, as the shock washed over her like a tidal wave. The knife slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor as she fell to her knees. Her body was wracked with loud uncontrollable sobs as the image of the attack flashed through her mind at a hastened pace. Her hands crimson, caked in his blood. Her breathing grew erratic and the panic began to set in, eyesight blurred with tears.

“Yo! Hermana.”

Confusion triggered an innate reaction within her at the sound of Angel’s voice, one that she was not ready for. She jerked forward and frantically began trying to clean the mess around her. Hoping to hide the mess - afraid of anyone else seeing it.

Had she been in a rational state of mind, she would have stopped herself. The attempt she was making was needless given the fact that all she was doing was using her hands to rub the blood around her.

“Ivána…” Voice trailing off, Angel stood within the threshold of the doorway, gaze locked on Ivána as she continued to frantically clean her kitchen floor.

Crouching down he reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, his voice softly urging her to stop. As he touched her, she let out a shrill scream, and lashed out at Angel. Her body and mind were still locked in the fight of her life.

She mistook Angel for another one of David’s men, come to finish what Matteo had started.

“Please,” she begged, voice cracking as her sobs turned heavier, shaking her body further, “Please.”

“I’m here,” Angel murmured softly, attempting to soothe her, “it’s me… Angel.”

“I’ve got you.” He murmured again as he reached towards her, both arms open in attempt to pull her body towards his in an embrace.

She allowed him to take her, his heart shattering when her body went limp in his arms.

If you have stuck through with this part thank you so much! I am really excited to make this a series and worrying about it being a flop! Especially given this part doesn’t really have EZ it, merely mentions of him. I have honestly read and reread over this so many times it’s gotten to the point where I hate it lol. Please leave feedback (if you wish 😂) and pleeeease let me know if you are actually excited to see where this goes. Any guesses? Again, thank you so much if you have actually read all of this and didn’t give up! I appreciate you so much! 💞 I am truly sorry if this was boring!! It’s just the set up so pleeease stick around

TAGLIST (OPEN): @appropriate-writers-name @thesandbeneathmytoes @abby-splace @tartanbumsters @noz4a2 @sesamepancakes @montanaraed

#mayans mc #ez reyes #mayans fx #mayans imagine #mayans x oc #angel reyes #mayans s3 #ez fanfic #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #mayan #ez reyes love #ezekiel reyes fanfic #ez reyes angst #ez #mayans #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #bishop losa #coco cruz

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #my writing #lost stars

[6shooterz]

i’ll listen to your oc rambles 😁😁

you'll regret it but i'm gonna ramble anyway under read more lfjg;dlf TY YIN YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES MEEEEE ILY <3333

i'm using this picrew rn bc ive never drawn a proper ref for my ocs so pls forgive me

the nerd with purple hair is rail; she's in her late twenties and used to be a researcher duo along with her sister (pink hair), stock whose main goal in life was to study indigenous cultures... emphasis on 'was' because, during one of their expeditions, they end up shipwrecked on an inhabited island, where rail and stock end up constantly fighting to the point it ruins them mentally. rail comes across the mirage-mirage fruit after several days of refusing to eat anything stock gives her as a grudge, and eats it -- however rather than giving her a boost in power, due to her wrecked mental state, the mirages/hallucinations she creates end up ruining her even more as she finds herself unable to control her hallucinations.

this ultimately is the catalyst that ruins her relationship with her sister stock as rail cannot control her power and how it ruins her, and rail's hallucinations affect stock, too. rail however is Batshit Insane and ends up delusional, esp when her devil fruit was working against her bc she didn't know how to control it AND was not in the right mind to control it

after barely surviving on the island, a marines ship passes nearby and stock screams after the marines to save them, which then ends up damaging her vocal cords so she has a very... peculiar raspy voice?? anyway they get rescued by the marines but stock fucking hates her sister now, so stock begs the marines to shackle rail with sea prism stone because rail would probably attempt to murder them because she was commanded to by the gods to do it (Mentol Iwness At Its Max)

the marines help them get back onto an island where they can recover, but stock is full of hatred for her sister who she refuses to even acknowledge they're related... but between stock and rail, stock is the one who's a teensy bit saner, so stock pretty much treats rail like a rabid dog rather than... a sister... it's kinda fucked up but they're both ill so pls don't think I'm glorifying abuse or smth?? sjdhask they're just both not mentally sane and my intentions are to write their relationship as unhealthy and not a good one, except both sides are in the wrong (stock is 70% in the wrong though)

stock and rail live in town together (stock works at a bar) except stock keeps rail shackled with sea prism stone at all times just to keep her power from harming stock, rail, and everyone in town. this is where it goes to shit bc stock brings home a girl to do the Y'know with but the girl finds rail with shackles around her ankles and gets her out bc she doesn't know why rail is being tied down

this pretty much unleashes rail's uncontrollable powers so she's at... like... mental illness Level 99999. stock, who finally thinks she's free from rail's hallucinations and awful delusions finally snaps and tries to uh... murder her sister. but she can't bring herself to take the life of someone, especially her own family so she just ties rail up and shoves her onto a boat into the ocean for her to sail until she dies

except rail doesn't die because stock fucking sucks at tying knots so rail ends up surviving on the sea by herself, completely alone with her delusions and her inability to control her power. she ends up using her hallucinations to make her tiny little dinghy boat seem like a warship/treasure-filled abandoned ship/etc etc and tricks other people on the sea so she can rob them, so that's how she essentially survives on the sea. however, no sane person has been able to withstand the horror of her delusional hallucinations which she doesn't control so basically everyone with her dies/escapes from insanity.

so basically the straw hats stop on the island stock lives in to stock up on food and they get along and blah blah straw hats go back onto the sea... except after a day of sailing, they come across rail's ship mirage and the straw hats find rail and bc luffy has 1 braincell in his head he doesn't even get affected by the hallucinations and they find rail who is... yeah... insane. very. basically rail tries to kill them because death is the only way to save everyone (she was told this by a neon pink octopus. knowing the op universe this could be real but for story's sake she's just insane)

they realize rail pretty much looks like stock and they get rail to tell them about her relation with stock, and... yeah... everything rail says is like 70% incoherent bullshit. this is getting too long so the tldr is that the straw hats send rail back home despite rail refusing to due to stock's treatment of her, and i haven't thought about it this far yet but stock and rail do not magically get cured of insanity and become besties again. it's gonna take years, hell even several centuries to fix the wounds they've given each other ... IM SORRY IT'S SO DARK DASDJFAL

oh and red hair is hira. she has daddy issues and her family is originally from alabasta. her bloodline has this weird tradition of feeding the solar-solar fruit to the youngest daughter of the generation, and she's eaten the fruit EXCEPT no one's ever told her that she ate a devil fruit so she just thinks her body is too stiff to swim in the sea and that everyone else has her powers. and the devil fruit's name might sound overpowered but it's basically just her physical strength + speed + pain insurance just being higher when she's out in the sun, and gets weaker when unable to absorb sunlight. if she chose to train the strongest she'd get is, like, being able to turn her skin burning-hot just like a solar panel by absorbing sunlight JDGJS

#yin im so sorry if this wasnt what u expected out of a one piece oc #to summarize: rail is insane. stock is horrible. hira is like most sane out of the three of them #i swear i'm not trying to glorify any unhealthy relationships they're both horrible to each other and are both in the wrong!! #good end rail is where she gets therapy and learns how to control her devil fruit powers and becomes a bad ass who masters in trickery #basically if she were sane she uses her powers to make hallucinations of bazookas n shit like usopp does w his 10 ton hammer #IM SORRY ILL SHUT UP... i talk too much #but ty yin ILYSMMMM THANK U FOR ASKING <33 #yin! ♡ #うちの子

[katkk1]

Here's Diasomnia Himiko's Bio. Because why not.

Himiko Nakagaichi

Age: 18

Height: 164 cm

Gender: female

Birthday: January 21

Star sign: Aquarius

Hair color: light lilac

Eye color: blue violet

Homeland: Valley of Thorns

Family : Silver ( brother)

Lilia (Adopted father)

Species: human

Dormitory : Diasomnia

School year : Third

Class :A-3 no.27

Occupation: student

Fun Facts:

Dominant Hand : Left

Best subject: Magic History

Favorite food: chicken teriyaki bowl

Least Favorite food :anything spicy/ Lilla's Cooking

Hobby: sewing little plushies/ long walks in woodland areas.

Dislikes: Being bored/ getting lost

Talents : painting, sewing, Cooking

Club: Board Games Club

Unique Magic: Mirage Prism Can create convincing illusions used for confused the opponent.

if it doesn't work she will use the second part of the Magic called Mirage Prism Crystal shield.

In this form she able to create giant shield made out of crystal can absorb any attack from the opponent and shoot it back but 10 times stronger at the opponent.

Personality:

Himiko is known for her happy go lucky personality. She can be little cheeky and mischievous. When one of her friends is in trouble she tries to help them in the best of her abilities.

When She's angry she will smile with her eyes closed and will sound slightly agitated. If someone tries to interact with her when she's angry. She will Savagely burn them with her words if they touch her she will somehow make them fall to the ground. Silver and Sebek are terrified of her because of this.

History:

Himiko's and Silver's mom was running away from her ex husband. Himiko was just one and her mother was heavily pregnant with Silver. When Lilia found them.

Himiko's mother and Lilia were secretly lovers but sadly couldn't marry because she was in an arranged marriage but they still saw each other. But in the end she chose to marry the man she was betrothed to.

So when her Mom saw him she was so happy to see him she even cried. And so Lilia picked up her mom and with her still holding Himiko and took them to his cottage. 2 hours later her mom had silver. Lilia help her give birth. And Helped her name her son. Malleus help too with holding Himiko.

But sadly passed away one year later. Heartbroken Lilia vowed to raise her kids like they're his own.

And when himiko and silver were older Lilia started to train them because silver wanted to be one of retainer malleus. Himiko chose not to but she still wanted the training because she left out. So she trained with silver and sebek.

Here's some pictures:

Here extra facts about her:

Himiko is best friends with Mizuki @kitty-is-chilling oc.

Himiko and Mizuki are roommates. and is her first female friend.

Himiko always does the cooking because she doesn't want Lilia to cook some monstrosity that he calls food.

Can beat both silver and Sebek in a fight, with and with out magic.

But can't win against Lilia

Somehow can be evenly matched with Malleus even though she's human

But can stand only 5 minutes with Malleus before he is too much for her.

She found out that Lilia wasn't her biological father by herself before silver.

#diasomnia oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland #Himiko Nakagaichi

[xenonmalachite]

I had been meaning to bring in Loco Motion into the bayverse universe of ocs. the first design was basically just bayversed version of her TFP design. Then I thought “I could go more with this” and went ahead with some redesigning. The top design was the original design and the bottom design is the newer design. I had asked some peeps what they thought about the design and they all liked it so here it is. her newer deisgn was inspired by Carmen Sandiego. Crosshairs is sort of referenced so i could understand how her coat would work. The sketch dumps were basically just experimenting with the designs and then ta-da. Crosshairs is there because I kind of started to ship the two of them. Hope no one minds 👉👈

I like the Newer design. I feel it creates this interesting new feeling and a lot of people liked the hat. I think for now I’ll keep the hat as a Bayverse thing for her design. I also think the non-neon like pink fits well for her. 

Bio for her below the cut

Name: Loco Motion (also goes by “Dot”, like how in Bayverse Mirage goes by “Dino”)

Alt. Mode: pink Lamborghini 

gender: femme

preferred pronouns: She/her

Faction: Autobots

Family: Edge climber (Brother), Havoc (Brother), DeepDive (brother), Magma Drive (sister), Pixie (Niece by Conjunx) 

Conjunx Endura: Crosshairs

Occupation: Sharpshooter (former), Mental ward Psychologist (former), Psychologist and anthropologist (current)

Orientation: Bi

Languages Known: Spanish, English, Cybertronian

Hobbies and interests: 

psychology, anthropology, Gardening, gymnastics, journaling, acoustic guitar, Human behavior, languages, causal gaming, botany.

weapons and gadgets:

Flares, Rifle, Scythe, Smoke bombs, Grappling hooks, Butterfly knife

personality: 

Loco Motion is mostly warm and friendly. She makes herself as approachable as possible and is always willing to help those in need. She’s caring and thorough, not missing detail when it comes to helping someone. She tries to see the best in everyone, and loves receiving interesting information. She’s very analytical but also emotional. She’s found the right balance so she can best approach those who’ve come to see her. However, she’s slightly stubborn. she always refuses to admit defeat if there’s something she can’t do and has a dangerous fear of failing. She’s hoping that no one knows about her getting fired in the past for standing up for patients. She also has a couple bad habits, such as buying a bunch of cute notebooks for her office even if she has 5 shelves full of empty ones to use. She also tends to be super secretive when it comes to what she’s doing to help her patients. While this is patient confidentiality, she unknowingly makes herself look suspicious and secretive. It’s from her fear of failure that sometimes she will not admit her mistakes. Despite all this, she’s adaptive with her equipment and can change to new gadgets or weapons easily. She’s also very clever, finding small but significant ways to make the job easier.

Backstory:

Loco Motion, also with an alias of “Dot”, is an Autobot psychologist, anthropologist and former Sharpshooter. Her extensive knowledge in how others behave and being able to pick up on patterns to predict on target’s behavior earned her a spot in the top ranks of sharpshooter. She use to be in the same squadron with Crosshairs back on cybertron. her PhDs in Psychology and Anthropology made her incredible at predicting the behavior of her targets. She taught these skills to her squadron members, eventually leading to a friendship with Crosshairs. But she had suddenly quit the sharpshooter gig. turns out she was privately hired and the target was one of her own brothers, Deepdive. with her brother a target, she did not go through with the job and unceremoniously quit, waking up to the reality of the danger her family was in

With this, she decided to go to help those who were traumatized from the war. she gave up her rifle and went to an institution. that did not go well for her either. she hated seeing the patients mistreated and was fired when she started standing up for them. She joined a smaller team of Autobots and went under the alias of “Dot” as to hide her failure of trying to help those patients. 

Dot got separated from her team when the tracking system malfunctioned. To save herself from crashing into chunks of a recently destroyed planet, she piloted her ship towards the closest autobot settlement. That’s when she received autobot signals and traveled to earth. She, however, ended up not in the USA, but Mexico. Confused, and unable to be understood, Dot was completely alone. 

After calming down from her initial shock of being on another planet, Dot learned to adapt to her new surroundings. she eventually learned Spanish and some English, just enough to tell some secret NEST agents of what she was after. NEST, now notified of her presence, escorted her to the USA for safety, where she joined the rest of the NEST autobots. this is during the time between Revenge of the fallen and Dark of the moon where she is placed on the NEST team.

She was now faced with having to adapt again as the NEST situation was more faced paced and action packed than she had anticipated. She slowly readapted, going by both her Alias as a nickname and her own name, feeling more confident that no one could dig up her mistakes. She mostly went on international missions, and had a psychologists office in the base to help her new team. She was on one such international Mission when the events of Dark of the moon play out and Sentinel betrays the autobots. She was in Mexico at the time when NEST disbanded and went into hiding. 

By a complete and utter random chance she ran into Crosshairs again, who, despite the both of them changing their frames and alt. modes, recognized her from his old squadron. Loco Motion asked him to stick with her as basically she was just left without a team for the 4th time in her life. Crosshairs eventually agreed and the two started to go into hiding together. Time went on searching for sanctuary and the two rekindled their friendship, even forming a romantic relationship between them.

 As soon as they received the message from Optimus that he was alive the couple set off to meet with the other remaining autobots, where she joins in storming the KSI base, rescuing Optimus from lockdown’s ship, and battling the deceptcion infected KSI engineered robots in Age of Extinction. She would then go into hiding in the junkyard with her Conjux Endura, Crosshairs, and the autobots and join the final fight in England in The Last Knight.

misc. facts :

-  Ambidextrous

- “Birthday” is September 6th

- Very good at rhythmic gymnastics with apparatus (hoop, ball, ribbon, etc.)

- Gets airsick easily. It was not easy piloting her way to earth

#loco Motion #transformers oc #tf oc #transformers bayverse #bayverse #bayformers #transformers crosshairs #crosshairs #bayverse crosshairs #oc x canon #malachite arts

[whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer]

Could you do a Naruto fanfiction recommendation? I loved your Sakura one but I was curious if you would do one in general for the series?

1.) serendipity by stirringwinds. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: Sasuke had never known Senju Hashirama in person, of course. But he had grown up hearing stories about the First Hokage at his mother’s knee—about the legend who had defeated the most powerful member of their own clan. Enough stories to recognise what he was seeing—and to know he was witnessing his teammate perform the impossible. Or, in the fight against Gaara during Suna’s attempted invasion of Konoha, the Ichibi’s attempt to kill Sakura awakens an unexpected power. It changes the destiny of Team Seven forever.

Yes, this is about Mokuton!Sakura but this is in Sasuke’s pov and, oh boy, is it so interesting in his point of view. There’s not only world building but nods to real life history that makes in the (casual) history nerd in me get really excited. So far we’ve only seen Uchiha clan politics that Sasuke remembers from when his family arrived but if this is ever continued the current politics is one of the main things  I look forward too.

2.) These Moments We Take for Granted by Applepie. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: Kakashi dies to Pain’s attack and wakes up in another world. It’s a world where Kakashi hadn’t failed Obito’s final wish and sacrificed himself for Rin’s sake instead. It’s a Konoha too similar, yet so different that Kakashi can’t bear to impose. So he doesn’t – not as ‘Kakashi’, at least.

I’m dying for the next chapter of this. The cliff hanger is partially why the other reason is the story is just that good. 

3.) Yes, my weird depressed half-tree uncle by Aesoleucian. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: Sarada is such a lonely kid, and Sakura has such a dissociative disorder. Where are Sakura's parents? Where is the support? Being a single mom is hard and therefore I crafted this AU where Obito survives the war and retires to help restore his clan which he helped murder. 

A good way to get me to love any fic: let characters who go through traumatic situations actually show they’re not okay afterwards. 

4.) your skeleton will carry by theformerone. On ao3. Rated E. Summary: He doesn't want to have children for the clan that murdered his father, or for the village that let it happen.

Neji and Sasuke discover that they are more alike than they think.

I’m so glad the author tagged this Anti Sandaime. That tag is the reason why I found this beautiful fic. 

5.) Just the Usual Habits by Applepie. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: Sakumo has no idea where all of these habits of Kakashi's are coming from. In which five-year-old Kakashi forgets the existence of his left eye, loses his ability to lie believably, and is a little too knowledgeable about the Birds and Bees. Still, no matter what oddities went on in Kakashi's head, one thing is certain – the boy will always love his father, through thick and thin.

6.) Get Shisui by DoodlesOfTheMind. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: Get Shisui. It was a common refrain throughout the Uchiha compound, though its meaning had shifted a number of times over the years.

Both beautiful and heartbreaking. 

7.) a beating heart of stone by FantasyDeath. On ao3. Rated Not Rated. Summary: During Iruka's first year teaching — on his own, because apparently there is a severe lack of teachers — he loses his curriculum, gets into a low-key fight with Shimura Danzo and accidentally creates an army. To be fair, none of this was planned.

8.) In Sound Judgement by NegativeAperture. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: The main question, she thinks, isn’t her chance at survival or whether she’ll stick to the plot. No, it’s whether she should change the inherently flawed system that has caused every single problem ever. Arguably, she’s in the best position to fix it. People are certainly more willing to listen to you when you threaten them with the giant fox demon in your gut. But what would the cost be? Her morals? Her humanity?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions after all. (In which a human rights lawyer is reincarnated into a world without morality, without logic, and most of all, without laws. Helping the world was easier when people weren’t ninjas.)

Even if self inserts or ocs are not your thing I still strongly suggest you read this.

9.) Mirage by xantissa. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: Can be read as stand alone. Itachi's ANBU exam through Kakashi's eyes. Kakashi knew something wasn't right with the whole thing, he just couldn't put his finger on what exactly.

10.) Catch Me (If You Can) by BasicallyAnIdiot. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: Five times the ANBU tried to catch Uzumaki Naruto (and that one time someone else did).

Why you should read this: “Knowing Naruto-kun,” Itachi interrupted from his locker as he checked his arm bracers, “If he had more than a hour, the traps were at least 2 layers deep.” He closed the locker door firmly, mask in hand, “But he can be caught.”

“Lies and hearsay.” Neko’s muffled offer came from the women’s shower area. 

“Impossible. Never happened.”

A delicate brow arched, and Itachi continued. “There is one person in the village who can successfully catch Uzumaki Naruto whenever he feels inclined to.”

Inu sat up like a shot, unheeding the bag of ice dropping to his lap with a thud. 

“Who? Is it the Commander? Hokage-sama?”

Shisui snorted, and transitioned smoothly to a new pose, “He means the only chunin in the history of chunin to turn down a full position in ANBU corps, complete with no probation and instant pay raise.”

Inu was silent for a moment. Then he declared, “I will find this chunin and make him my teacher.”

11.) Fish Stew by Masu_Trout. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: There was a bowl of stew in Kisame's lap, a cup of tea on the ground next to him, and a small blank-eyed teenager staring at him from over the rim of his own teacup.

Kisame's new partner is one of the strangest people he's ever met, and that's coming from a man with gills on his face.

12.) What A Big Heart You Have by LullabyKnell. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: In which a little red fox saves the big white wolf.

Bless this fic. 

In which Hatake Sakumo lives.

13): Autonomy by beetlebee. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: "But this Not-Sensei soulmate guy could be anybody," Naruto whines.

Sasuke narrows his eyes. "No. He tried to act like Kakashi, use his techniques. He must be familiar with him already..."

"They could be childhood friends!" Sakura gasps.

"Sensei has friends?" Naruto asks, squinting at Obito.

"Or he's a stalker." Sasuke grips the kunai he still hasn't put away.

"I'm not a stalker," Obito lies, pushing away the kunai edging towards him.

----

(A soulmate bodyswap AU)

I would kill to read a sequel of this where we see Kakashi’s in Obito’s body.

14.) Written with Heart by Brookelocks. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: "Sometimes just sharing your opinion or a conversation about something someone else enjoys, even if you have to grit your teeth through it, can be the little push of support that makes them keep pursuing their passion."

or Kakashi has a strange way of showing his support, Jiraiya doesn't mind.

15.) The Good Life by orphan_account. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: There had to be protocol for this. They were shinobi in a hidden village; there was protocol for everything. Sadly, the authors of the Konoha Mission Administration Office Employee Handbook had committed the potentially fatal oversight of not dedicating a single paragraph to the now more than hypothetical situation of your current Hokage starting a mostly one-sided screaming match with your former Hokage in front of your very desk.

16.) these chains on me won't let me be pg13. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: The first time you ever feel like a shinobi, you are ugly and messy and scared out of your mind and not even wearing your hitai-ate. — implied sakura/ino

Out of all the Sakura centric fics I’ve read - trust me I have read a lot - this is till one of my favorites.

17.) got a boy in the war by Lisse. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: Naruto's parents don't so much fall in love as accidentally trip over it.

18.) sabotage by stirringwinds. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: “Itachi,” His mentor and commanding officer says grimly, his single visible eye angry, the line of his jaw tense under the black of his mask. “You forget that I was the Yondaime’s student. I may not be as politically influential as those old codgers sitting on the council, but there is plenty I can do to try and stop this shitshow.”

The horrible, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach hasn't vanished. But, staring at the firm, unflinching expression on his captain’s face, he feels the tiniest flicker of…hope.

Or: In another universe, Itachi breaks down and ends up spilling the beans to Hatake Kakashi.

Honestly, damn it why couldn’t this have happened? 

20.) Nothing like the storm by Aesoleucian. On ao3. Rated Not Rated. Summary: There's a girl in Kushina's class at the academy, with perfect hair and perfect poise. She's nothing like loud, angry Kushina, but she's not exactly shy either.

21.) Shine Bright, Shine Far, (Oh Sun of Mine) by Applepie. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: This Konoha is not the one Himawari knows; everything is wrong, and everyone is gone. A strange man who's not Papa is claiming to be the Hokage.

22.) i have a girlfriend!? by chadsuke. On ao3. Rated G. Summary: ino wants training from the best genin kunoichi - naturally, that means tracking down tenten.

23.) Eyestealer by nirejseki, robininthelabyrinth (nirejseki). On ao3. Rated Summary: Hashirama really doesn't approve of the thoughtful way his father looks at his younger brother's bright red eyes. He's sure it doesn't mean anything good for anyone.

He's right.

I just binge read this today (I haven’t even bookmarked it yet) and now I’m left wanting for more darker than canon Hashirama.

24.) Unison by Laylah. On ao3. Rated M. Summary: Kakashi knows damn well that it isn't a healthy coping mechanism.

Do read the warnings at the top of the author’s notes. 

25.) Got Nothing to Prove (but I'ma show you how I do) by GuardianMars. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: Civilians and orphans are always used as cannon fodder. Sakura’s not sure where she first came by this phrase. Whether she heard it or read it, she can’t quite remember, but it stuck in her head and it stays in the back of her mind whenever Team 7 takes a mission.

When Sakura and Tenten get placed on a temporary team looking into a series of kidnappings of local village girls, Sakura is naturally worried. She doesn't want to be cannon fodder. When the mission goes to pot, Sakura and Tenten find themselves far away from home and with only each other to rely on. As it turns out being cannon fodder is the least of their worries.

26.) Once Again by pupeez4eva. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: If you asked anyone what they thought of Sasuke Uchiha, they'd say that he was cheerful, overly-hyper, and loved glitter and sweaters WAY too much.

(Mabel Pines is reborn as Sasuke Uchiha. Unsurprisingly, this changes things a lot).

27.) Blame it on the Moon by Tozette. On ao3 (you can only see this if you have logged-in ). Rated G. Summary: Itachi likes cats. In hindsight, that's probably his first mistake.

* * *

Really? Thought Itachi dubiously. He did it anyway. "For love and justice," he deadpanned flatly.

28.) Adoption by Defenestration; or, A Family Can Be A Fox Demon, Its Jinchuuriki, and Three Dozen Highly-Trained Assassins elumish. On ao3. Rated T. Summary: He will not be the ANBU who let the jinchuuriki plummet to his death out a fourth story window. Let that be another ANBU’s legacy.

#sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #Sakura Haruno #kakashi hatake #iruka umino #itachi uchiha #naruto #asks #fic rec #fanfiction #ao3 #tumblr won’t allow me to use bold #I’ll edit later when it stops

[transformersmr-hq]

TFMR asdf - Original Characters

I remember mentioning that I won't create any OC for a major character, but I did spawn in some OCs to see what kind of characters can be created according to the in-universe settings of TFMR. They are placeholders that only exists far back in the background, so they don't have any significant impact to the story. Besides they all live on Cybertron which gets destroyed before TFMR story arc starts so yeah they all dead anyway 

Some of them might have met canon characters at some point in their life, but all of them have zero to minimal impact to the story.

Short version: Transformers OCs

Long version: 

Characters with illustration

Overseer

This is a self-insert, rather than a legitimate character that exists within continuity. If TFMR is a movie, this one is the director. More about myself Overseer can be found here -> [X]

Vitas & Mirabilia

(The winged one is Vitas. the doorwing is Mirabilia.)

These two were first featured in a short worldbuilding doodle I created back in 2017. They are the oldest OCs with proper backstory. Both are newspark caretakers, who takes care of newly hatched Cybertronians until they are assigned to training institutes, boarding schools, noble houses who want another member etc ect.

Vitas is an aerobat(a biplanekind that is specialized in mid-air acrobatics) with two left foot — or rather 'two left wings'. Instead of becoming a sky dancer like other aerobats, he studied pediatrics and became a newspark caretaker. He was the veteran caretaker of the facility he worked in, who also used to be Ratchet’s mentor. Much unlike his permanently-exhausted look and gruff attitude, he was the one who always held onto the last hope. Even after the war broke out and no more newsparks came to life, he remained as a neutral and kept on searching for sings of newspark emergence.

Mirabilia is Vitas’ sidekick. She is a pickup truck, and she is one of the last group of people who were assigned as newspark caretakers. When she was a hatchling, Ratchet saved her life from a cave-in accident. She doesn't remember exactly who her rescuer was, but she remembers that it was one of the caretakers. Since then, she always dreamed of becoming a newspark caretaker so she can also help young Cybertronians who is in need of help. She’s the only newspark caretaker who stayed with Vitas until the end.

Menthol

Menthol is a placeholder character that I created for “Minis and sub-species” doodle. It’s just one of my Homestuck troll OC turned into Transformers, so there’s nothing much to say about. Named her “Menthol” because obviously I couldn’t use her troll name and I was eating a mint flavored candy at that moment. Menthol doesn’t talk much due to an unfortunate chemistry experiment that damaged her voice box. She can talk, but her voice quickly gets sore after just a few words, so she prefers action over words. Her arms turn into a set of flamethrowers, which are very powerful. Has a twin called “Capsaicin” who uses a set of freezer cannons.

Typhoon 

One of the earliest TFMR OCs I created. Typhoon is a 4-wheeler Mini, who has ability to teleport short distances. Typhoon worked as a double agent between Decepticon and Autobot. He eventually got his cover blown by Decepticons and got executed, but luckily he escaped alive with damaged left foot and half-mangled face. He jumped from one neutral colony to another in order to avoid Bots or Cons, and in one of the colonies he met Strato and Cosmocube. He didn’t really believe their whole Combiner bullscrap, but he decides to stick with them because you never know when you’d need a fine meat shield. Wears a predacon mask to hide his damaged side of the face. Will punch anyone in the throat if they call him a mini. Once tried changing his designation into “Deadlock” but dropped it because a certain Ex-Decepticon had that designation and he didn’t want to be hunted down by DJD for having same name.

Characters without illustration

Team Powercraft

These are the rest of Typhoon’s combiner team. Together, they combine into a giant robot named Powercraft. 

Typhoon - see above

Strato - a muscle car, who is a type of outlier that makes him into a walking Enigma of Combination. Forms the torso part of Powercraft. Likes shiny things, especially anything that contains gold.

Cosmocube - A communication satelite. Strato’s friend. Forms the right leg part of Powercraft. Best navigator/spaceship driver of the team. Likes listening to loud music - the louder the better.

Mudskipper - A jeep-boat hybrid. An Aquatronian scientist, who travels around from planet to planet for research purposes. Team’s medic, but doesn’t really have doctor’s license. Only one in the team who actually knows how to use one’s processor. Forms the right arm part of Powercraft.

Solaire - A Triple changer (pickup truck+battle seeker). No one knows where he came from. Strongly believes that he’s just a truck, not a triple changer. refuses to give answer when asked why he has wings, or why he never takes off his unnaturally dark-tinted visor. Forms the left arm part of Powercraft. 

If you are familiar with Minecraft youtubers during 2011~2013, then these characters miiiight sound just a tad familiar...

Mirage’s “sister”

The only one who actually took care of young Raj, and also the one who sent Raj to Cybertron. Was the head of Velocitronian planetary defense force, thus being the only one in the noble house who pursued military career. She sensed the eventual fall of the noble caste ever since Override became the president of Velocitron, and has been trying her hardest to keep her house from falling apart. She knew the house was now a burning ship. She couldn’t leave her baby brother to sink along with the rest. 

#Transformers: Mobius Run #ramblings #tfmr asdf #oc #tfoc #not gonna name them all because none of them are relevant #maccadam