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lovely-ateez · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.”

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.”

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can��t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.”

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #fluff #ateez yunho #rockstar au #yunho au

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mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home.

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose.

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you.

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one.

“Oh you look terrible.”

“Thanks I feel terrible.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his.

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—”

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went, exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.”

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.”

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry.

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead.

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled.

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger.

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared.

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date.

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—”

“Oh that won’t be necessary.”

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips.

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then.

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch.

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven.

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question.

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake.

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off.

“Ah fuck what now.”

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower.

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you.

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box.

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step.

“Bucky…”

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways.

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?”

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations long forgotten.

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!”

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night.

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 4 years ago

Note

Prompts no 25, 27, 31 angst and non happy ending because I'm a little sad

The affair

Dialogue prompt 31- I want you to list every lie you ever told me.. then I'll forgive you | I hope whoever you are, you're doing better now. My apologies for bringing it out pretty late.

TW- ANGST | Harry loved him, only till fire burned.

Prompt 25 | prompt 27

It could have been love.

Or perhaps it was love until the arson had lasted and the land got buried in the ashes. Maybe it was love, until the fire remained burning, and the air had stated vanishing and soon it died.

He always knew he thought love was a transaction, to get something back in return for what you deposit in, he never believed in it but was Draco swooned. He let himself take the fall hoping that maybe harry would save him. He knew what he was getting into but too fooled was he to believe that love changes people, he held onto the false hope. He assumed, he believed in himself that maybe, just maybe after everything Harry had been through, after everything he fought for, maybe he'd like to not face change anymore. That maybe after everything, he deserved to be loved and deserve to love. That maybe he too felt that there was none who understood him better than Draco like he did, only he should've known.

But once learnt the hard way, draco didn't know how many loses more could he take. Maybe he felt as though he owed it to harry, that perhaps harry was his last shot at love, no matter what happened. Even with the ever consuming lies building up in the relationship that had been going on for 3 years. But Draco would lie to himself if he said he was happy anymore. He used to be, but he hadn't felt the little comfort in the physical affection or more than a chaste kiss in the past few months and he was afraid. Afraid that his inner voice was right.

" I think he's cheating on me " Draco numbly spoke to pansy as he drank his cold coffee

" oh hone-"

" I knew it " Draco interjected.

Pansy gave him a pity look but oh she knew too. She knew he was cheating. The lies Harry had fed only worked a little.

" how do you know ?" Pansy asked, holding a little of Draco's hand in a comforting touch over the table.

" he told me he'd be at the office yesterday. I went to drop him something but he wasn't there. He had left hours ago " Draco replied blankly stating at pansy drawing circles on the upper side of his hand

" but you can't be sure " pansy sighed.

Draco hummed, deciding to not further talk about it.

Perhaps days went by, Draco had stopped counting, he has stopped looking at the calender when their anniversary passed as a forgotten date. Perhaps weeks since Harry tried to come home and cuddle with Draco. And maybe month too when they last went on a date.

Why was Draco doing this to himself? Fear.

He watched as the light, the spark, the fire diminish in Harry's eyes for Draco but a new one was born each day he left for work, like he had something to look forward to. He felt it in Harry's soft light chaste touches that they weren't a secret, private anymore, they were of Someone else too. He even smelled the perfume of another one on Harry's shirt. Yet he rested in fear, fear he'd never be loved again. Because even if everything, harry still was his boyfriend, by tag but he was.. it was all in the labels. But He didn't even come to Draco's work party.

" why don't you leave him ?" Blaise had asked. Draco only shrugged, yawning.

" do you even sleep anymore?" Blaise tried asking again. Draco shrugged once again. He had lost count of hours he slept too.

But alone in the night, sitting on a bed in loneliness even with the body next to him, he cried relentlessly in silent sobs. He would bite his palm to keep the muffles inside as he'd stare at the man he'd once loved, become Lost. He missed the harry who'd kiss him before sleeping or who'd whisper good night or the one's who dragged draco to shower with him or the harry who'd visit between works to take him out for lunch.. he missed the harry that was only his own and not shared as a public property.

________________________

He sat alone on the table of a family dinner as his father for first In a while looked at Draco in pity sitting next to an empty chair, reserved for his love who never showed up.

" we should start. He must be stuck with something " Draco Whispered.

Narcissa hesitantly nodded, helping serve the dinner and the family ate in low Whispers and soft chews.

And then perhaps as if an old friend has knocked his door, Draco was met with the young boy who loved Harry in his rivalry,who stood for what was right, for what wasn't just to him, one who believed that if love existed he'd never settle for less. Slamming the door shut, Draco instead of disapparating, stumbled back home with one bottle of whiskey he couldn't even drink because of the drowning heart that yearned sobriety.

" where were you ?" Harry has asked sitting on the sofa, watching TV at midnight when draco had stumbled back home.

But draco didn't respond, placed the bottle on the counter top, only little drunk, unknown tears smeared across his face.

" I asked you a question Draco, where were you ?" Harry sternly asked as he turned around to watch Draco

" are you fucking drunk ?' harry was perhaps disgusted but it only made Draco laugh. A mock.

" do you ask your other boy that too ?"

" what- what other boy ?" But harry was a bad liar.

Draco sniffed in as he walked forwards, collapsed on the couch next to Harry's and stared blankly out of the window, tears immediately blurring his vision.

" it was my parents anniversary today? Do you remember ? I told you a day before yesterday to be there, even sent a memo ? Did you receive ?" Draco asked, his legs shaking.

" oh- see I kept thinking I was forgetting something. I'm so sorry babe-"

" don't-call-me-that" Draco sneered

" what is the matter with you ?" Harry asked thoroughly offended

But Draco only exhaled a shaky breath, his hands contributing to the shakiness and he finally landed his eyes upon the man he had lost.

" was I not enough ?" His voice broke as he asked, staring into Harry's lost face

" what are you even on about-"

" your affair harry. Your bloody affair " Draco raised his voice so as to be stern, confident that be wasn't lying.

" what ? I don't have any affair. I'm offended that you even think that Draco. After everything we've been through-"

"bullshit " Draco snapped

" you think I can't see it Harry ? I can sense it across an entire room if you're there or not, don't you think I wouldn't know that the man I loved is not just Mine anymore ?"

" you're being ridiculous " harry rolled his eyes.

Draco gave Harry a weak smile before he went on " do you remember the last time you told me you loved me ?"

Harry frowned as he thought upon until the realisation hit " i- I didn't realize -"

" I don't blame you " Draco shook his head " I can't even if I Want to. Perhaps I am infact not enough.. perhaps I've failed to be who you wanted me to be. I don't blame you harry, I don't-"

" Draco, there's nothing going-"

" what's his name ?" Draco interjected

" there's no one "

" does he make you happy ?" Draco asked weakly

" Draco, there isn't-"

" does he kiss better than I do ?" Draco asked, his voice breaking.

Harry sighed " I'm not cheating Draco "

" then when did you fall out of love with me ?" Draco asked

Harry stared at Draco long enough to see the pain turning to mocking numbness " I never did "

" liar " Draco sneered as he looked away, not even bringing his hands up to wipe his tears.

" I love you Draco-"

" liar " Draco suddenly raised his voice " you're a pathetic liar " he sobbed

" all this time I tried to forgive you in my head but I only need to ask one thing, what did I do to deserve this ?" Draco sobbed

Harry's face filled with pity as he closed distance between them to wipe Draco's tears away but he jerked his hands away.

" I didn't mean for it to happen " harry finally said as he looked down at his feets, as though he was disgusted in himself.

Draco looked at harry attentively " how long ?"

" Draco-"

" how long harry ?" Draco asked sniffing

" 5 months " harry replied. It should not have been a blow, not have hurt this bad, because Draco already knew but he did. Tears rapidly burning his face as pathetic sobs left his lips and he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at harry.

" it meant nothing to me Draco-"

" it doesn't matter " Draco interjected, heaving for a long breath

" no I mean it Draco, it didn't mean anything "

" if it didn't mean anything then why were you with him tonight instead of me ?"

But in hopes of trying to fix things, harry couldn't formulate an answer without hurting Draco.

" I really loved you harry, I still do and I hate myself for it but I will let you go "

" Draco Don't-"

" I have loved you enough but in hopes of trying to keep you close, I have made you runaway from me and that's no one's but my own fault. Perhaps I loved you too much or too little but neither of it was enough to make you stay " Draco cried in silent tears.

" don't say that Draco. Please. I still love you. I never stopped. I'll leave him for you. I only love you. It was a mistake Draco. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry Draco, please, please forgive me " harry begged

Draco offered Harry a little smile before he took Harry's hands in how own, locking their finger's together and kissing his knuckles.

" I Want you to list every lie you ever told. Then maybe I'll forgive you "

And in that sweetness Draco left Harry more broken than he had ever felt. Filled with regret he had never felt. Pain he had long forgotten. Misery and sorrow he had said good-bye too. But it was in his sweetness harry had loved him and it was in his sweetness he had lost him. That night when Draco went away, with no response, he never came back again and harry was left alone.

It could have been love, or perhaps it was, only until the night was young and the sun had not risen.

Till the mortal fire had burnt.

It's basically midnight thoughts.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open.

( ps. I reached 400 tho )

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shinysobi · 4 years ago

Text

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter i | chapter 2 (coming soon)

Han Joon Hwi and Kang Sol, years after graduation. post-canon fix it, idiots to lovers.

ao3

a/n : i got this idea as i feverishly dm'd my friend about a solhwi prompt,,, i took it too far i think >.<

please tell me if you like it!!

a/n: title taken from Hozier's Almost (sweet music) which i recommend while reading this.

chapter 1: you and i are lovers in the dark

There has got to be another way of doing this. I can’t be doing this all my life.

“You know,” the words from Yeseul makes her look up, “you didn’t have to do this to yourself. You could have not taken the case, eonni. I told you not to take the case.”

Sol doesn’t say anything, just hangs her head in shame. The soju burns as she tips her head back, draining the last dregs of it, “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you for help. You’re being insufferable now that you’re dating Bok-gi.”

Yeseul laughs, reaching for the soda can, “eonni, I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

“I am, aren’t I?” she looks at the other girl, clearly panicked, “does it show? Oh, it shows, doesn’t it? Oh, what am I going to do—”

“Ah, noona, you shouldn’t have taken this case on, then,” Bok-gi says as he enters the room and take in the sight of a dishevelled Sol and a grinning Yeseul, “oh, Yeseul noona, I was looking all over for you!”

Sol scowls, “haven’t the two of you been dating forever? Why do you still have the honorific? And for your information, I took the case before I knew it was going to be him that I would have to go up against.”

Bok-gi looks affronted, and Yeseul comes to her boyfriend’s rescue, “ah, I like it, eonni.”

“Of course, you like it, you’re just as gone for him as he is,” she grumbles, “so, Bok-gi, Yeseul’s been telling you everything now, has she?”

“Ah, eonni, leave him out of it,” Yeseul soothes her, rubbing circles into her back, “do you want me to take the case? Instead of you—”

“The client won’t agree on it,” Sol whines, “and just when I thought I had got rid of him.”

“Rid of who?” so Bok-gi doesn’t know, Sol notes with some amount of pleasure, good. At least Yeseul didn’t tell him about the fact that—

“Oh, eonni might have to work with Joon-hwi oppa,” Yeseul chirps, looking entirely too pleased for Sol’s liking, “she’s the public defender for Joon-hwi oppa’s case.”

“The attempted murder one?” Bok-gi sounds as perplexed as Sol is, “but I thought hyung only dealt with financial cases, what happened? Didn’t you say you had some other prosecutor to deal with, noona?”

Sol groans, “apparently he’s taking criminal cases too, and the first one he chose to take was mine,” she stands up, “can’t I ever get rid of him?”

Yeseul blinks, “why did you have to get rid of him in the first place?”

Sol groans, sitting down on the chair with a thump. This was becoming a frighteningly regular occurrence, groaning at the mere mention of his name, “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You sound like a sixteen-year-old right now, noona,” Bok-gi giggles, and she scowls at him. How dare they find happiness in my misery. Just because she loved them didn’t mean she would put up with everything that they did.

Liar. You’ll always put up with whatever they do.

Wait, why did that sound like him? Did he finally manage to get inside her head?

No. no, calm down, Kang Sol. Joon-Hwi is not inside your brain. Your brain is filled with statutes of law, precedents, your grocery list, the things you need to buy Byeol for her birthday—

You have too many things on your mind.

Ah, fuck.

She stands up again, taking a look at Bok-gi and Yeseul’s surprised faces, and sits back down, “never mind. It’s just him. how bad could it be? We just lost touch over the years, and I specifically made sure to not keep in touch with him after we graduated—I’m going to die, Yeseul-ah.”

“No, eonni, you won’t,” Yeseul props her up gently, pushing the bowl of bibimbap towards her, “at least eat something before you cry.”

“No, you’re right,” Bok-gi agrees, although Sol knows he’s laughing at her internally, the little shit, “it’s wrong to cry and not eat. I’ll be dehydrated.”

The food tastes bland in her mouth, although she knows she’s made it spicy, but Sol works her way through it with tears in her eyes (she passes it off as due to the spice) and promptly starts sobbing again, lamenting her crappy life.

“Eonni, the trial isn’t until next month, you have enough time to prepare,” Yeseul tries to placate her, but it only increases the volume of her groans. A whole month spent dreading the presence of Han Joon-Hwi as she prepared for the trial. “You’ll win it, right?”

There. That was what had been bugging her. The fact that he hadn’t lost a single case since he’d become prosecutor. It isn’t like she hadn’t expected this from him, coming first in her class, but—

“Is this even fair?” she wails, “the attempted murder case doesn’t even have to have him as the prosecutor, it is going to be easy for me to win, the client was framed, and there is no evidence—”

“Noona,” Bok-gi peers at her, his eyes going wide, “you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Ah, it isn’t like that!” she tries to defend herself. But Yeseul just stares, “fine. You caught me. I’m scared of losing to him, he hasn’t even lost a single case since he made prosecutor, he’s on his way to becoming head prosecutor in less than a decade, and I’m—I’m barely surviving as it is, so why did Attorney Geun-Tae give this case to me?”

Both Bok-gi and Yeseul look shocked, and Sol isn’t surprised. They should be. She was the one who cut off contact with Joon-Hwi after graduation, claiming he didn’t need her to weigh him down, and she was the person who did everything without a single glance backwards, so why was she being so defensive? “It’s not like I don’t want to whine all the fucking time, it’s just that—”

“Whoa, noona swears a lot when it comes to Joon-Hwi hyung, who knew.” Bok-gi says, clapping a hand over his mouth, “have you always been this way, or did this just happen after you found out that you were going up against him?”

Sol scowls, “you’ve been trying to act cute, don’t try that with me, Min Bok-gi.”

Yeseul nods at Bok-gi. Sol scowls again. Traitor.

The truth is, she should have known this was coming. Their field doesn’t leave much for anonymity, and even if it did, why did she think it would be so easy to avoid Joon-Hwi? The boy—sorry, man, she supposes she should give him at least that much, they were both in their thirties now—the man was everywhere, the newest rising star in the prosecution. Even her boss, the clueless Park Geun-Tae knew about it, and had requested her to work in a case against him. her, the person who barely passed her law school course at Hankuk. Who has a sister far smarter than her, better than her at all aspects, who really isn’t cut out to be in this profession, something which she’s heard all too often from everyone, and all she wants to do is yell I know, I know, she knows it all.

Which is why, when Han Joon-Hwi approached her after the graduation ceremony, a determined look on his face, she dreaded the words that would come out of his mouth, and instead chose to flee. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best decision, but Kang Sol A isn’t known for making the best decisions.

She still lives with her mother and Byeol in that same house, where Joon had once installed a CCTV camera, which Lee Man-Ho had broken with a well-aimed rock, but the camera is still there, and while Byeol is in middle school now, a big girl, who doesn’t like Sol picking her up from school every day and who is already getting into trouble with that big mouth of hers, and certainly doesn’t need protecting, the camera is still there, and every once in a while, she likes to take a look at it, sipping beer after a long day at work. It’s obviously dysfunctional, but she likes to imagine that Joon-Hwi still takes a look at the camera feed, doing whatever “top secret” things he did.

She sighs, opening the door to their home. I have work to do if I need to beat Joon-Hwi.

“Why was I assigned to this case?” Joon-Hwi asks, surprise evident on his face, “I usually take financial dispute cases, this is an attempted murder, and the evidence doesn’t even look solid. Why am I being given this?”

He’s speaking to the wall in his office, and his paralegals are out on break, but he feels as though he should at least vent about this to something, if not someone. He’s supposed to be a star prosecutor, someone who hasn’t lost a single case since they stepped foot into the District Prosecutor’s office. And it’s true, he hasn’t lost a single case since he began working here, spurred on by a desire to both step out from under his uncle’s shadow and to prove himself.

The cases he has handled until now, have all been financial, catching the people who use money to get their way in the world, much like Ko Hyeong-Su, people so entitled to the world that they didn’t consider the rest of them as human beings. He liked bring them down to their level. Hell, he loved it.

But his specialty is not criminal law, and that too, a case that would be difficult for him to win, given that there was very little evidence and whatever he had, would never fly in a court of law. He’s kind of pissed at Prosecutor Lee for giving him the case. No, scratch that, he is pissed at Lee for giving him the case.

Defending lawyer—

Defending lawyer, Kang Sol.

Could it be?

He turns to his computer, and contemplates for a second if he should ask the police officer about the defending counsel, but decides against it. I don’t want to seem like a fool. Which—is correct. He is a fool.

So, he calls up the person who had the case before him, Prosecutor Shin, and tries not to hide the excitement in his words when he asks, “did you meet the defence counsel when you arrested the defendant, Prosecutor?”

“She didn’t have one,” the prosecutor replies, voice scratchy, and he wonders of he did the right thing by disturbing someone who was in the hospital, “we’ve indicted her, but the defence counsel was changed at the last moment, something about the public defender dropping the case. Her new counsel is some young lawyer, although she has a lot of experience.”

A lot of experience. “A lot of experience?”

“Yes,” the voice on the other side cracks, and there’s some commotion in the background, “I remember meeting her in the courthouse once. People call her crazy, the lengths she goes to defend her clients are insane. She’s a good egg though, doesn’t take on cases that she doesn’t like.”

“Hmm, thank you, Prosecutor,” he mumbles, hanging up the phone. So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time, Kang Sol. how long has it been, four-five years? And we’ve never met once, impressive.

He’s suddenly very excited for the initial hearing, even if he knows its going to be nearly impossible to win. But at least he can see her for the first time in years, even if its on the opposite side in a court of law. At least he has that.

—

“You’re being stupid,” Jiho says without much in the way of context, but Joon knows what he’s talking about, “you had to take a case just to meet her? A case you are most likely going to lose? What kind of person does that?”

Joon-Hwi rolls his eyes. Jiho was a good man, but sometimes, he really didn’t know the reason behind things. Or to be more specific, why Joon-Hwi did some things. Still, it was understandable as to why he would behave like this. Neither of them has had any connections with each other over the past five years, missing each other by mere moments at times, and yet, he’s still enamoured by her memory, of the way she used to look at her law books and the way she used to stick her highlighters in her hair, her triumphant smile after she answered something correctly; he remembers everything, and he gets nostalgic sometimes, but such is human nature, one supposes.

“It’s been five years, hyung,” Jiho mutters, pushing the bowl of soup towards him, “isn’t it time you gave up on Sol noona?”

He raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t think you addressed anyone as noona.”

Jiho shrugs, “she’s older than me, so it’s only right. And I did work with her on a case about three—two years ago, and she’s really become good. Or is it all the experience that she has had now, working as a partner at Attorney Park Geun-Tae’s firm, which is unheard of, at her age, but she’s far more competent than him—”

He’s talking, but Joon-Hwi doesn’t register anything anymore, “you’ve worked with her? Together?”

“Hmm?” Jiho mumbles, thrown off his track, “yes, I literally just said that I did, what are you thinking about?”

“No. no, back up a little,” he insists, and Jiho’s confused expression clears when he realises what exactly is Joon-Hwi implying.

“Really? You’re jealous over the fact that I worked with Sol noona? That’s how petty you’ve become now, hyung?” Jiho rolls his eyes, and Joon has the incessant need to just—bury his face in his hands, “you could just give her a call, you know.”

He glares. Jiho nods, “guess not,” and resumes eating. He takes another look at the case file, and sets it down, proceeding to shove food into his mouth. The Japanese restaurant has good food, he does agree, but nothing beats eating too-hot ramyeon at three in the morning with your best friend after you’ve finished reviewing three lectures’ worth of notes together. Crap. He still remembers her as his best friend, even though they haven't had any contact over the past years now. Pathetic.

But self-deprecation isn’t his forte, and he shakes his head at Jiho, who’s determinedly eating, “how’s Sol B doing? Isn’t she going to be a judge?”

“She’s still practicing,” Jiho replies, “her mother wants her to be a judge, although I don’t think Sol wants to do it. She’s happy being a legal scholar. Wants to become a professor at Hankuk later on, if the constitutional law position opens up.” His face has a curiously fond look when he’s talking about her, Joon notices, or perhaps it’s a trick of the light, because Jiho straightens up, “who gave you the case, though?”

“My superior sent it to me because the prosecutor in charge had fallen ill, and had to be taken to the hospital,” Joon-Hwi replies, “it isn’t east for me to win this one, even though—”

“Even though you’ve never lost a single case?” Bok-Gi’s voice almost makes the two of them jump, and Jiho sends a well-aimed smack his way, “so you’re taking noona’s case, are you, hyung?”

Jiho snorts, “he’s losing sleep here.”

“When did I say I was losing sleep?” Joon-Hwi begins to say indignantly, but Bok-gi is still grinning as he slides in beside Jiho, “who told you that, Seo Jiho?”

Jiho doesn’t say anything, so Bok-Gi fills in for him, “hyung, you look terrible. Haven’t you been eating properly?”

Joon-Hwi squints at the other boy, how did he know I haven’t been sleeping well? Does it show on my face? Is it that bad?

“It is that bad, hyung,” Jiho pipes up, “you look like death warmed over.”

“It isn’t that bad, honestly,” Bok-gi says, and promptly shuts up under Jiho’s glare, “jeez, all right, all right, he looks bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.”

Joon-Hwi groans. He was supposed to have been handling another financial scam by this time, but he’s now talking to two of his classmates, preparing for a case that he was sure of losing, just to see the girl of his dreams.

Pathetic.

It had been two weeks since she had found out that Han Joon-Hwi was going to be the prosecutor for her newly-assigned case, and Sol already felt like she was going to drown amidst a sea of precedents, case studies, and more cases that she needed to read just once, in order to keep her client from getting a guilty verdict. She would have to work harder if she needed to beat him, and had even contemplated asking Professor Yang for help, not that the man would do anything to make her life any easier.

Instead, she settles for the next best thing, calls over Sol B and Yeseul for help, and while Sol B grumbles, Yeseul agrees enthusiastically, even offering to bring over Bok-gi for an extra pair of eyes. Not one to be outdone in anything, Sol B offered to bring over Jiho, who grumbled more than Sol B (if that was possible), but agreed to come along nevertheless, and they all sat in her tiny living room, looking as though they had lived there all their lives, and had helped her with the case, although the boys were more interested in devising ways to make Joon-Hwi lose, as Jiho put it, “noona is our best bet, and he owes me food if he loses.” No one could argue with that, honestly.

Except she feels like drowning, and the trial was only two weeks away.

Stupid Joon-Hwi. Why did he have to take my case? Why couldn’t he just remain in civil law? Why did he have to do this? Why, why, why?

She knew that she was being irrational. He didn’t have much control over the cases he was assigned to, and given the fact that the prosecutor in charge had been admitted to the hospital, she doesn’t think he had any sort of control over what cases he would be assigned to. Still.

You’re being irrational now, a voice that sounds surprisingly like Professor Yang’s pipes up in her mind, you’re being distracted right now, Kang Sol. You won’t win if you’re distracted.

Right. She turns back to her papers, trying her best to push the thoughts out of her mind.

I can’t be distracted.

—

He was distracted.

It wasn’t his fault, perhaps, but Joon-Hwi feels guilty nevertheless, especially as he stares at his two paralegals who are stuck alongside him, working into the night.

He’s been staring at the same picture for the past thirty minutes. In his mind, it qualifies as work, but what sort, he isn’t sure. It’s a picture from their graduation day, the seven of them (Seung-Jae hyung was behind the camera) and Professors Kim and Yang, Yangcrates even had a rare smile, something which he hadn’t ever imagined witnessing, at least not sober. Him with his arm around Jiho, who clearly didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation then, his attention focused on someone else. Sol B, staring straight into the camera, grinning ear to ear. Bok-gi and Ye-beom, the latter gesticulating wildly and Bok-gi just laughing at him, Yeseul with her head thrown back in laughter, and Sol—Sol was radiant, (he laughs at that, radiant, the Greek meaning fitting her like a glove, Sol, the Sun) the way she smiled at the camera, her hand held up in a peace sign. It was an imperfect picture, and he has the final, proper version hung on his living room wall, but it’s the warmest picture he has ever been in.

The trial is the next day, and he should be getting some sleep, but he finds himself staying awake even after his two paralegals have gone home, apologising profusely for leaving him alone, and then he takes out his phone, which has been blowing up with messages from Bok-gi and Jiho, asking to come out with them for dinner. He knows it’s a bad idea, that they would try and get him drunk, or worse, that he would voluntarily get drunk, and showing up hungover at the courthouse isn’t a great idea.

Except… he really wants to do so. It’s like he’s back in university again, trying to find ways to rile Kang Sol up, teasing her, to revel in the way she would get angry with him for cutting short her study times, even though she should have been in bed three hours prior. She would always look at him with that strange sort of expression in her eyes, Joon-Hwi remembers, as if she couldn’t decide whether to hit him or to just kiss him and shut him up.

His phone pings, and it’s a text from Jiho, telling him that hyung, do you want to come out for dinner? Sol’s buying.

He really shouldn’t. even if it had taken him a moment to know which Kang Sol Jiho had been talking about and even then, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the mention of her name, he shouldn’t.

Oi, Han Joon-Hwi, aren’t you a little too old and a little too responsible to be drinking before the day of an important trial?

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Sol, not Sol B—Sol A, although he doesn’t know how anyone could confuse themselves between the two—they were as different as light and day, and the one on his mind was not the one who was offering to buy him drinks and dinner. He sighs, texting Jiho a quick apology before he heads out of the office. He needs to be alone tonight, trying to get his thoughts in order before he faced Kang Sol in the courthouse the next day.

Even though he’s sure to lose, he just might win.

#jtbc law school #mine #my writing #fanfiction #solhwi fanfiction #han joon hwi #kang sol a #kang sol a x han joon hwi #kang sol b #seo ji ho #min bok gi #jeon yeseul #idiots to lovers if there was one #ro writes #solhwi #solhwi brainrot whos here with me yall

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scaramouchesbf · 5 years ago

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BNHA MANGA 291 SPOILERS

(I GET MOST TRANSLATIONS/INFO FROM @.atsushi101x ON TWITTER)

Title: "Thank you for being fine"

TW CHILD ABUSE, OVERWORKING, DEATH, SWEARING

This chapter we got the rest of the Todoroki family reacting to Touyas reveal and pictures of baby Touya :))

Lets start with the other Todoroki siblings reaction to Dabi coming out as Touya

(THEORIES + PICTURES BELOW)

(is this a bad time to talk about how pretty Fuyumi is)

We know Touya and Natsuo were the closest as kids and he seems the most hurt by this.

A lot of people were theorizing that Natsuo knew about Dabis plan but this proves otherwise (there is still a chance but its a LOT less).

He was watching the broadcast and seems really hurt by this (mfer HUG ME I LOVE U), while Fuyumi was in the classroom and the school staff had to call her.

We all believed Endeavor forced Rei to keep getting pregnant until they had the "perfect child" but this scene shows that Rei was the one that suggested it.

I wonder if she ever regretted that choice.

Even with both Fuyumi and Touya not having the quirk Enji wanted. at the time he was okay with that as Touya already had a more talent that him.

BABY TOUYA BABY TOUYA !!

translation (text on full picture that i cant find): "if its you" (I DONT KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS !! AT ALL !!)

We see Touya burning his own skin, so his current scars are probably self inflicted.

Enji noticed that part of Touyas hair turned white in this picture, which he at the time didn’t take seriously by saying ‘No way, I’m a grandpa?!’.

He quickly moved on after that.

translation of this scene (not by me) below

"You possessed a fire power even greater than mine."

"Nevermind that! Show me your special move!"

("special move" can also be seen as finishing blow/ ultimate move)

It seems that Dabi wasn't abused from a young age like Shouto, but this doesn't mean that Enji was any better at parenting him.

Oh god look at this ANGEL !! I LOVE HIM !!

Not shown here but we're told that Touya 'died' in a "Sekoto dake" (Im sorry I have no idea what that is but its described as a fireproof place where Endeavor trained him) with temperature reaching 2060C, its implied that Endeavour wasn't with him at the time it happened.

They only found a piece of lower jaw bone. (DABI ARE YOU OKAY BB WHATS WRONG WITH YOUR JAW ???)

Back on the battlefield Endeavour didn't believe Dabi, but this smart bastard showed his DNA test with a 99.99% match, the results were broadcasted. Who the hell gave Dabi a DNA test? I have no idea.

He used the blood he had gotten from Endeavour in the kyuushuu encounter for the test.

The rest of the league of villains were shocked, saying it was the first time they heard about this.

He also explained his view on Endeavour, the way he was using them, Shoto's birth, and saying that Endeavour never thought of anyone but himself. He asked the public if such a person was worthy of having the NO.1 hero title.

The kyuushuu kid didn't want to believe it, but Dabi began to expose Hawks by showing a video of him killing Twice.

The fact that Dabi was RECORDING this leads me to believe he may have known about Hawks being a traitor and that Twice would die.

He told the public that Hawks killed both him and Best Jeanist. He then went on to explain that Hawks father was a villain (more specifically a serial killer and robber) and Endeavour picked him up.

In the broadcast he said that he cannot forgive Endeavour for being a man with such a dark background and becoming a hero.

Hawks wings are still burnt off but Tokoyami is taking care of him. Cause hes a GOOD BOY !!

Endeavour was too shocked to move while Shoto was screaming at him to move back, he said that him and Nejire will handle Dabi.

EVERYONE STOP HURTING SHO CHALLENGE. (please give him forehead kisses and cold soba after this he deserves it)

I mean... even heroes have to cry when they need to.

While Endeavour was still not moving and Shoto was in a panic, Dabi jumped towards Endeavor, most likely to kill him, ‘Thank you for being fine until today’.

Dabi was caught by a wire, before Best Jeanist appeared (MFER WHY ARE YOU NOT DEAD !!) saying that he will be returning to work.

(WILL REBLOG WITH MORE PHOTOS AND STUFF SO CHECK NOTES !! )

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bluewhale52 · 5 years ago

Text

Little Black Book: The One You Trust (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Min Yoongi, the one you trust.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Rating: Explicit. No minors allowed!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits

Word Count: 5.1k

Warning: Yoongi thought OC was a prostitute, oral sex in public restroom, Yoongi oral king (wbk), oral m & f giving and receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (they should’ve known better, please be safe everyone), making of a sex tape

Little Black Book Masterlist

A/N: Completely unedited, as I wrote it between free times I could get, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes made. Hope you enjoy reading it! 💜

~~~

You met Yoongi at an upscale bar. It wasn’t the kind of bar you’d willingly go on your own, but it was the bar your boss chose to impress your clients with expensive wine and cigars. Business talk soon turned into something more lewd, and you soon excused yourself from the party.

You chose to sit on the bar counter, purposely choosing the far end where it was much less crowded. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, nursing your gin and tonic, while waiting for your group to get drunker and drunker, and for when it became your responsibility to ship them home one by one in taxis.

Yoongi approached you like a cat. Slow, quiet, gaze intense on you. You had caught him out of the corner of your eye, and you instantly liked what you saw. Lithe body clad in all black, jet black hair, feline eyes, and lips pressed into a tight line. He had a mysterious and intimidating aura about him.

He sat himself next to you, then ordered a whiskey. Seeing your half empty glass, he offered to buy you another.

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

Yoongi glanced at your party. “Your group?”

You nodded. “Yup, gotta make sure they all return home safely later.”

“Ah,” Yoongi let out a dry chuckle. “I see.”

“That was a weird laugh.” You told him, narrowing your eyes.

He looked at you, his sharp features looked considerably softer. “Don’t be mad.”

“It never ends well when you start with that.” You warned him.

“You see,” Yoongi brought your gaze to a group of men and women seated not far from where your party was. “I thought you were one of them.”

One of them. The ‘them’ he referred to was a group of scantily clad women, throwing themselves onto the men in suits. It didn’t take a genius to know who those women were.

“Seriously? You thought this,” you pointed up and down your work suit, “equals to that?”

Yoongi looked you in the eye and knew you were teasing him. And you really were. You were intrigued by him. And you were hoping Yoongi could be a fun distraction.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he apologized, “some men like skimpy dresses, I however, like suits. Obviously I have better taste than they are.” He smirked at the group.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your legs. You smiled inwardly when you caught his eyes dropping down to your skirt, slightly hiked up from your new sitting position. “I still feel very insulted.”

Yoongi rubbed his chin. “Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward, and the proximity of his face to yours made your heart beat faster. He was a good looking guy, but with the cockiness in his words, his sexiness level was off the charts.

“Let me,” his voice dropped several octaves, sending a rush of warmth to your core, “eat you out. I’ll give you the best oral of your life.”

You felt your body was instantly lit on fire. Keeping your voice steady, you asked him, “What if I’m not satisfied?”

“I’ll give you my number. And you can call me whenever you need to evaluate my tongue technology skills.”

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t believe the balls on this guy.

“I can’t leave them.” You tipped your head at your group.

“I know for a fact the restroom here is clean.”

Your eyes widened. “How often do you do this here?”

Yoongi shrugged. “My first time tonight. I know the rest room is clean because I used it not ten minutes ago. So?” He hopped off his stool, and offered you his hand.

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Your head still couldn’t believe what was happening, but your core was leaking arousal and you knew which one was making the final decision.

You placed your hand in his, and he smirked. It annoyed you how smug he was, but the way the corner of his lip lifted, it was so sexy. You were done for.

Yoongi led you to one of the restrooms, he told you the restrooms in the bar were all private so there was no need to worry someone would walk in on you both.

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Yoongi locked the door. He directed you to lean against the wall. Your hand grabbed the sink next to you for anchor. The way he looked at you was so predatorial. His eyes were sharp and pierced through yours. The way he licked his lips was like a starved man finally being served his favorite meal.

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste since I saw you sitting on that bar all alone.” He looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes. You swallowed. Your throat was suddenly dry. All the liquid in your body was pooling in your panties, you were sure of it.

Yoongi leaned closer to you, pressing your body against the wall. His hands skimmed the hem of your pencil skirt, and looking into your eyes, he slowly inched the material up. His fingers were grazing against your pantyhose, burning your skin through it.

When your skirt was finally bunched up around your waist, you bit your lip to still a whimper, and Yoongi chuckled. His face came even closer to yours, you prepare yourself for the feel of his lips yours.

But he ducked sideways, his mouth aimed at your ear instead. “My name is Yoongi, in case you need to scream it out when you cum on my tongue.”

Your chest heaved and you let out a small moan. His hands had found the waistband of your panties and your pantyhose, but instead of pulling them down- which you were hoping he would, SOON- because you just couldn’t take it anymore- he rubbed against the skin underneath, making you squirm.

He gave you that smug smirk again. And licking his lips, he leaned down to kiss you. Only to be met by your finger. He looked at you quizzically.

“No kissing,” you chided. “You haven’t earned that yet, you smug boy.”

His eyes twinkled at your challenge. “Do I get your name, at least? I’ll spell it with my tongue.” He yanked your panties and pantyhose down. Your knees immediately went jelly, and he chuckled again at your state.

“_______.” You breathed out. He kneeled before you, then helped you rid of your underclothes to bare yourself to him.

Yoongi hooked your leg over his shoulder. He parted your folds then licked his lips. He could see your sex throbbing, so desperate for a touch.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flicked his tongue over your clit. You gasped loudly. Liking your reaction, he flicked your nub again, but this time putting more pressure on it. He started spelling your name on your clit, as he had promised to do, the pressure from his tongue sending your body into a fiery mess and your arousal dripping into his waiting mouth.

“Did I spell it right?” Yoongi pulled back.

“Fuck yeah.” You rested your head on the wall. Your body felt heavy, and you hadn’t even cummed yet.

“Ready to scream my name, babe?”

You looked down to him. His milky white complexion almost made him look angelic, such an irony to the sinful act he was doing to you. You buried your fingers in his hair and tugged softly.

“Less talking and more doing, hmm?” You directed his head to your dripping core.

You felt the vibration from his chuckle against your dewy lips, and you instantly moaned. With his tongue flat against your sex, he started lapping at you. He was encouraged by your moan and from your grip on his hair.

He found that you liked having his tongue poking into your hole and sliding up and down your slit. He could tell from your moans how you liked his lips wrapped around your clit and how he slurped up your juice obscenely. He wanted to finger you, to feel your walls around his digits. But he wanted to see how far his tongue could take you. And soon he got an answer.

Your thighs started shaking, and your moans were getting louder. He tongued your entrance, swirling his organ in and around your hole, eagerly exploring it. He groaned when you ground yourself down against his mouth.

“Close, so close,” you panted, “make me cum, please.”

Yoongi gripped your thighs tighter, pressing his face further in, diving deeper into you. His tongue fucked into your cunt mercilessly, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You felt him pushing you harder and up against the wall, as if anchoring you before your free fall into ecstasy.

And the orgasm came in a mad rush, a white hot explosion that burnt your entire body as you convulsed and shook above Yoongi. He continued to tongue you, groaning and moaning at the drizzle of your nectar oozing out, only slowing down once he felt your body going lax. He massaged your thighs, kissing the skin at the junction of your limbs and your pussy tenderly, until you pushed his head away.

Yoongi looked up to you and grinned. You looked so fucked out, and only from this tongue alone.

“You didn’t scream my name, babe.” Yoongi slowly stood up, his face ghosting over yours. “I’m sad.”

“You’ve got to do it again then.” You could smell yourself on him, a mix of your sex with the alcohol he had had before. “Kiss me, Yoongi.”

He crushed his lips into yours, immediately his wicked tongue invaded your mouth. You sucked on it greedily, and smiled when he groaned. He pulled away, his eyes heavy with lust. He moved your body towards the sink, bending you over it, then he spread your legs wide. You gripped onto the porcelain, and turned your head sideways to be met by your own reflection in the mirror.

Yoongi was above you, pushing your hair away from your neck. He kissed and licked it, sending shivers down your spine. Catching your reflection, he nibbled on your earlobe before pointing his tongue into your ear canal. Satisfied at the way your face crunched and the way you moaned underneath him, he stood up and massaged your ass cheeks.

“You look so sinful, _______ .” His fingers were kneading your flesh hard. “Still dripping too, you really like my tongue that much?”

“Yes.” You sobbed your answer. Your legs were shaking again, from the position they were in but also from the anticipation. You felt Yoongi breathing near your cunt, and automatically bucked your hips, but he held you down, rendering you immobile under his grips.

Yoongi gave you a long fat lick, from the clit all the way to the spot between your pussy and your asshole. “Oh Yoongi, that feels good.”

Taking your cue, he repeated the motion; sometimes spending more time teasing your clit, sometimes sucking on your hole, drinking up your juices, sometimes he went a bit higher, testing your reaction when he licked around your puckered hole. Whatever he did, he sent you deeper and deeper into lustful pleasure.

You felt his tongue stabbing into your pussy again, and his nose deliciously close to your other hole. Your moans were encouraging him, and he moved your ass back and forth, making you rut on his mouth. Without taking his mouth off you, Yoongie shuffled up higher until his tongue reached your asshole. With your arousal thick on his tongue, he circled around the hole and gave it little kitten licks. He growled when you wailed at how good it felt, but still, you were not screaming his name yet. So he continued eating your ass, until you became a whimpering mess, He quickly moved back to your pussy, sucking on it harshly and loudly. The slurping sounds his mouth was making were so loud in the restroom, with only your moans drowning them.

“Yoongi, ah… don’t stop..” you begged.

Yoongi went to overdrive. Hearing you moaned out his name spurred him on. He latched onto your clit now, flicking and sucking it, picking up his pace as your breathing got more laboured.

“Yoon… Yoongi..” you chanted his name like a prayer, and you were getting so close to your second orgasm. Yoongi sensed it too, and he continued to work on your clit, determined he would not stop until you cried with pleasure, with his name on your mouth.

With Yoongi’s tongue on your clit, you reached your second orgasm. “Yoongi!” you screamed as heat erupted from your core to the rest of your body. It was more intense than the first one, and you grabbed onto the sink for dear life. Your body was heaving, your thighs closed tightly around Yoongi’s head, and still, his tongue did not let up. You started to drone out, Yoongi’s name still repeatedly leaving your lips.

Yoongi stood up, then pulled you up from the sink, to hug you from behind. You were still recovering from your orgasm, and he wrapped your shaking body with his arms. His lips were all over your neck, kissing you softly as you returned back to earth.

When he felt your breathing had steadied, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You scoffed weakly. “You’re all sweet now you’ve heard me scream your name?”

Yoongi smiled against your hair. “Come home with me.”

You stiffened and pushed yourself out from Yoongi’s arms. Grabbing your pantyhose and your underwear, you asked Yoongi to turn around as you put them back on. Yoongi stayed silent, still waiting for your answer.

Smoothing down your skirt, you moved to the mirror by the sink to ensure you still looked presentable, and not like someone who had just had two orgasms in a public restroom. Yoongi stared at you through the mirror. Do you want to go home with him? God yes, you thought, if he could make you feel that good with his tongue alone, you definitely wanted to find out what the rest of him could do. But, as much as you wanted a warm body next to you, you wanted to make him suffer a bit.

“Give me your number.” You fished your phone out of your purse. Yoongi recited his number.

“I’ll get in touch, okay? And thanks for the two mind blowing orgasms.”

Yoongi laughed, nodded then waved you off. You felt a little bad, so you gave him a long lingering kiss before you exited the restroom.

~~~

Yoongi didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out. Three days after your encounter, you found yourself clocking yet another overtime, and feeling frustrated as hell. You sent him a text.

== [22:15] Hey, it’s _______ . From the bar. What are you doing?

== Yoongi-Bar [22:16] Depends on what you’re doing

== Yoongi- Bar (22:16] Didn’t think you’d contact me tbh

== [22:17] Aw, sorry to keep you waiting. Was wondering if your tongue is up for some workout?

You felt rather nervous seeing three blue dots appearing and disappearing. Was that too forward? It couldn’t be, from the way he approached you that night, this had got to be up his alley.

== Yoongi-Bar [22:19] I’m still at work. But you’re welcome to come (lol). Here’s my address. Text me when you;ve arrived. I’ll come down to get you.

In less than half an hour, you arrived at his office, which turned out to be a music studio. Ten minutes after that, you were on his desk, spread-eagle, with his head between your legs. Less than five minutes after your orgasm, you returned the favor, giving him what he claimed to be the best blowjob of his life. Shortly after midnight, the two of you were eating over-seasoned ramen at a nearby pochajang.

~~~

Your arrangement with Yoongi was a comfortable one. There was definitely lust at first sight between the two of you, but the chemistry started and ended there. You were both too career-minded to even consider a relationship, and so you settled being each other’s booty calls. Funnily enough, a friendship was formed too. You both would vent about your bosses and clients while getting dressed after your mind-blowing fuck sessions, and you sent each other encouraging messages too during stressful times. And most times, those messages included photos of body parts that would send your panties wet or give him uncomfortable hard-ons.

Four months after your first encounter, Yoongi told you he was going on a world tour with his artists. He would be away for six months, jumping from timezone to timezone, so it would be difficult to arrange a time for a regular online hook-ups.

“Yoongi, I’m pretty sure you can find someone during your tour stops.”

“I don’t want random women though. I’m comfortable with you. And safe.” He nearly whined.

“I can draft up an NDA if you’re worried about them going to some tabloids or something.”

He leaned back in his chair. “No. I don’t want that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you want, then?”

“Let’s make a sex tape.”

You burst out laughing at Yoongi’s suggestion, but you immediately stopped when you saw the look on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nodded thoughtfully, “watching it would help me jerk off and therefore it would be relaxing, and we wouldn’t have to constantly figure out the time difference…. “

“Well what’s in it for me?” You cut off his lame reasonings.

“The satisfaction that the country’s most successful music producer is jacking off to you.”

“Most successful, huh?”

“Babe, I’ll be at the top before you know it.” You sometimes forgot what a smug bastard he was.

You thought about it. You were not going to lie that the idea of making a sex tape with Yoongi was making you extremely excited. And the thought of him touching himself while watching himself and you, well it was fucking hot. And most importantly, you trusted him, you really did. If you were ever to document your sexual acts, Yoongi was the best person to do it with in your books.

“Our faces cannot be visible.” You set out your terms. “And we’d have to do it where no one would trace it back to your place or mine.”

Yoongi nodded.

“And you’d have to keep it somewhere safe. Not in some cloud or wherever that can be hacked.”

Yoongi tapped his hard-drive. “It’d stay with my unpublished songs.” The safest place indeed, he guarded those works with his life.

“OK, when should we do it?”

~~~

You decided to film your sex tape a week before Yoongi left. Yoongi was setting up the camera in the hotel room you had booked. Once done, he rehearsed the positions you both would be doing to ensure none of your faces would be visible.

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re really setting the mood right now! Can we just start? It’s been half an hour!” You threw yourself on the bed.

Yoongi muttered. “Fine, fine, we’ll edit it or something later. Come on babe, lie there, in the middle.”

You positioned yourself in the space where Yoongi had pointed. You were already naked, and you watched Yoongi undress. “Remember, don’t scream my name no matter how much you want to.” He warned.

“Min Yoongi, just fucking start.”

Yoongi chuckled as he pressed the record button. Then with his back to the camera, he climbed onto the bed. Spreading your legs, he made himself comfortable between them. Your hands immediately went to his hair; he loved having his hair tugged and pulled when he went down on you.

He knew what you loved too. He knew you loved it when he spread your lips apart, exposing your sex to him. When he licked up and down your slit like he was savoring a melting ice cream cone. When he inserted a finger to tease your hole after he got you all soaked and dripping. When he inserted a second finger as he wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked on it. When he moved his body up to lie on top of yours, to kiss you and give you a taste of yourself while his fingers were pumping you.

And when he pushed in a third finger, you moaned into his mouth, which sent him grinding his hips against yours. His free hand grabbed your breast, massaging it before his fingers pinched and tugged your nipple. He broke the kiss, and he rose up to look at you.

“So sexy babe.” He whispered to you. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly and enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. Yoongi made his way back down, kissing and sucking both your nipples, before his head was between your legs again.

His fingers were covered in your slick; you had gotten so wet and he could feel your walls pulsating around his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit as he curled his fingers in you. You arched your back, biting your lip for you nearly moaned out his name. Yoongi felt the pressure building in you, so he licked and sucked your clit harder while his fingers were stretching your cunt.

Your grip in Yoongi’s hair was getting tighter as you were getting closer to your release. He recognised the signal, familiar with your body by now, and he sped up his movements. He groaned into your pussy, encouraging you to let go and fall into your climax.

You came, with your legs shaking and sandwiching Yoongi’s head, and your back arched, your stiff nipples pointing to the ceiling. Yoongi let go of your clit, but he kept his fingers moving in and out of you at a slower pace. Kissing your way up, he nuzzled your neck, waiting for you to come down from your high. You blinked a few times and swallowed to wet your dry throat.

“Want me to suck you?” You asked softly. Yoongi shook his head. He pulled his fingers out and rubbed your arousal on his cock, lubricating it.

“I wanna fuck you now.” He got on his knees and grabbed your legs to push them back towards your chest.

This was his favorite position; it gave him a clear view of his cock sliding into your pussy and of your boobs bouncing as he pounded into you. You grabbed the back of your knees, opening yourself to him, and he guided his hard cock to enter your cunt.

You gasped softly as you felt the head breached your entrance. Despite his fingers having stretched you, your pussy still fought against the intrusion. Yoongi watched your face as he continued to push himself in. Your face contorted as he bottomed out in you, and he grinded on you to push himself deeper.

You moaned loudly at the pressure on your lower abdomen. It felt too full, but you whined when Yoongi pulled back. It was too empty, but not for long, as he slammed his cock back into you. He started to piston hard and fast, battering your pussy.

You pulled your knees back further until they were next to your bouncing tits. Yoongi groaned at the new angle and you sobbed over how your cunt was being impaled over and over.

Yoongi leaned further down, resting his forehead on yours, and your pants and moans were mixed together. His cock was jackhammering at a maddening pace, and his balls were slapping against your ass. The sounds of skin slapping against skin were deafening, along with the wanton slick noises of his cock plunging into your pussy like an erotic juicer.

“I want to suck you.” You declared between pants. “I want your cum in my mouth, babe.”

Yoongi growled and rammed his cock in, keeping it fully sheathed in you. You then wrapped your arms around each other, and keeping your heads down, he flipped you over so that you were on top. You pulled yourself off Yoongi’s cock, and you both whined at the action.

You left trails of kisses down Yoongi’s body, from his mouth, to his chin, his neck, chest, abdomen till you met his cock, still glossy and covered in your arousal. You positioned your body so that your ass was sticking up and your legs slightly spread to give a peak of your swollen pussy, hoping it would be smack centre in the frame of the video.

You licked the head of Yoongi’s cock like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his precum mixed with your own juices. You stuck your tongue out to lap around the head while your hands cradled his balls. Then you licked up and down his shaft, replacing the liquid from your pussy with your own saliva.

“Oh fuck, don’t tease, babe.”

Humming, you wrapped your lips tightly around the head of his cock, and then slowly moved down to take him in. You felt his hips buck, and you immediately relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could. When your nose bumped against the thin trail of hair on his skin, you flattened your tongue on his shaft and you started to bob your head up and down.

You glanced up to see Yoongi’s chest falling and rising sharply. You tightened your lips around him some more and you picked up your pace, hungry and greedy for his cum, but also being even more aroused by his moans and the thought of him watching this video you were taping later on when he was away.

So, keeping one hand on his balls, your other reaches down between your legs to rub your clit. Still feeling sensitive, you moaned at your own touch against his cock. You felt him jerk again, his cock twitched in your mouth. You rubbed your clit faster, knowing the vibrations from your moans were adding an extra sensation for Yoongi.

“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi warned as he grabbed your head, pressing it down on him. You closed your eyes and took him in, you felt spurts of his cum spraying into your throat, and you rubbed and pressed on your clit relentlessly, driving yourself towards your own release.

Once Yoongi’s cock had gone soft and your own heart beat returned to normal, you dragged yourself back up and laid yourself on top of Yoongi.

“Stay down,” he whispered, “I gotta turn off the camera.”

Yoongi stood up, still careful to ensure his face was not in the frame, and stopped the recording. He went back to bed with the camera.

“You wanna watch?”

You nodded. Yoongi pulled you up so you sat in front of him, your back to his chest. Your heart started beating fast again.

Yoongi pressed play, and you both giggled a bit in embarrassment when your naked bodies came into frame. Embarrassment soon turned into excitement, however, and Yoongi swiftly put your legs over his, and held them open as his free hand zeroed in on your pussy.

“Wet again.” He commented as he ran his finger along your slit.

You felt a growing erection behind you. You reached back to stroke it. “Hard again.”

“What time is check out tomorrow?” He nibbled your ear.

“Ahh,” you moaned. “I requested for a late check out.” You squeezed his cock.

“Mmmh,” he groaned. “You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, babe.”

You sighed lustfully as you felt his finger going back into your pussy.

“Worth it.”

—-

Today

You stop the video right before Yoongi in the tape starts cumming. You haven’t watched this video in a while, and you realise that watching it doesn’t elicit any reactions now, unlike before.

You sigh wistfully. You miss Yoongi. You miss hanging out with him, as friends. He’s been back from the tour for a few months now, and he has indeed become one of- if not the most- sought after producer, just as he promised he would be.

You have stayed in touch when he was away. Mostly through texts, teasing each other with r-rates photos, and he also shared his feelings over the world tour and the wonders he experienced watching thousands of foreign fans singing along to his songs. You were proud of him.

Somehow he also remembered all your important court dates and the clients who were driving you nuts, and he made sure you got enough encouragement to push through. You were grateful for his support.

He called you a few times once he had returned, and as much as you want to see him, you have been putting him on the back burner as you navigate your relationship with your new boyfriend. You realise it is about time you break the news to Yoongi- he’s not just a mere fuck-buddy to you, he’s become your friend. He deserves to know.

You dial his number, and after a few rings, he answers.

“Hey _______ ,” he drawls, “what’s up.”

“Hey Yoon. How are you doing?”

“Busy, still in the studio.” You glance at your clock. Eleven pm. Nothing has changed. “Wanna come over?”

You smile into the phone. “Sorry Yoon, I don’t think I can come over anymore.”

“Oh.”

“I’m seeing someone, like seriously.” You try to explain.

“Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.” He sounds sincere. “He must be someone special.”

“Thanks. He is.”

Silence falls between you. It isn’t awkward, and you can imagine him smiling softly at the other hand.

��Uh, I’d still like us to hang out though, as friends.” You offer.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear. “Great. Maybe I can introduce you to him too.”

He chortles. “Seriously? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well you’re my friend!”

“A friend who filmed a sex tape with you.”

You purse your lips. “Well he doesn’t need to know about that. Do you still have it by the way?”

“Yeah, I don’t watch it as often as I thought I would though.” He laughs. “Tour and work sucks out all my energy.”

You laugh along with him. “What a shame.”

“I will delete it, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

You surprise yourself when you shake your head and reject his suggestion hastily. “No, no, you don’t have to.”

“______, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answer with conviction. “Consider it as a fuck buddy parting gift.”

Yoongi laughs again. “Kinda feel you trust me too much, babe.”

“Ah Yoongi-ah,” you giggle. “I’ve always trusted you, don’t you know that?”

Published 20012021

#thetruthuntoldnet #noonasinnetwork #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #purplearmynet

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roadkill01 · 4 years ago

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Hange/Levi (platonic) x Male Reader

All you could do was watch as the tongs came closer to your fingers, digging underneath your dirtied fingernail. A shrill scream vibrated across the bloodied stone walls as the nail was ripped from your finger. Tears streamed down your face as you begged for this torture to stop, but it was all done to no avail. You felt the blood drip down and collect at the end of your limp hand. The only sound in the room was heavy pants heard from both parties and the occasionally splash of blood against the hard stone floor. Your torturer huffed, and pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, making it slick back and stick up in odd places.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just speak. I have taken all of your finger and toenails. Your body has been burnt and lacerated. I’m not even sure how you are alive...” you wished for death though. Pleading and begging for this seemingly endless torture to stop. Tears ran down your bloodied cheeks, and your torturer brought a warm hand to your face. He swiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb, smearing the blood up your cheekbone. He moved his hand to hold the stump at the end of your ear. A month ago there was a pretty silver earring attached to it. He didn’t like how it glistened in the candlelight though, so naturally it had to go.

“You were so handsome [Name]. Such a perfect husband. Waiting patiently for me to come to you.” You didn’t understand what had come of the sweet boy you had grown up with. What had changed? Why was he forced to become such a heartless vicious man as this? The slam of a door brought you from your darkening thoughts. He had finally left. You let out cry after cry, mourning the old Eren. And wishing a peaceful death upon the new one. He had to rest. You know so much, and yet you didn’t. For just as life, Eren continued pushing on. It didn’t matter through which obstacle. The love of your life wasn’t initially put in to torture you, originally it was supposed to be Hange and Levi. Eren took it over, as you had heard from him and you’d been moved cells. Your captain and the one who thought of you as a younger brother, neither could apparently bear to do it. Nobody could. You were such a happy influence on them all, it seemed ridiculous that you were accused of being a traitor. You had been in this dreaded cell for a month now. The only person you had seen was Eren. You were the subject of inconceivable rumours when it came out that Reiner and Bertholdt were Titans. You had been close friends with the two, and frequently interacted with Annie. The survey corps couldn’t take anymore risks. You would never blame them for this. You heard clattering come from up the stairs, and wondered if Eren was home already.

What surprised you however was the concerned deep voice that called out. “Hello? Is anyone here? Please call out.” You let out a nervous greeting to the stranger followed by heavy thumping come down the stairs, almost as if someone was jumping down them. You closed your eyes and sighed, the energy immediately dispelling from your body. If you were going to die now, you would accept it graciously. You opened them once more when the owner of these footsteps stifled a gasp. You only grew curious at the sound but didn’t look over yet.

What made you look over, was when the voice called out a loud. “Hange. Your going to want to see this.” You looked over as Levi began to fiddle with the locks on the other side of the bars. You could see how is hands kept slipping and shaking. You took a shaky breath as another set of footsteps (which you guessed were Hanges) made their way downstairs. The second they saw the state you were in they took off their glasses, tears flowed down from their brown uncovered eye. “[Name]? Don’t tell me? No, no, I’m so sorry.” All you could do was watch as the bright optimistic person you’d come to known fell apart at the state you were in, and who could blame them.

You looked half dead anyway, the clothes you once wore hand been dyed a crimson with the sheer amount you had bled. There was darkened ashy skin, where Eren had burnt you, peeling away and revealing the clashing pink of exposed flesh underneath. There were chunks that had been taken out of your body, namely your arms and thighs. The finger and toenails now newly removed seeped more of the dreaded red liquid. There was just so much. A seemingly endless wave of blood. It would never stop crashing upon you and those who stood too close. With a clank the door unlocked. Levi had opted for kicking the door in instead of trying to break the lock. Hange rushed in first, immediately undoing the rough rope pulled taught against your ankles and the chair leg. Levi coming next you, to pull away the loose pieces holding your wrist down to the arm of the chair. As the ropes were pulled away, you felt as though you could finally rest now. You were saved, right? Your limp body fell forward onto Hange as Levi undid the final rope on your left wrist.

They held you up, and carried you like a baby as you clung to them. Your legs wrapped around their waist and your arms around their neck. Hange held your back and pulled you into them as they carried you up the stairs, Levi anxiously picking at his nails next to you and Hange. The pair walked through the upstairs in complete silence, not daring to utter a word. The only sound on that damned floor was the eternal dripping of your blood. As you reached the door to outside, Hange pushed your head into their neck, the sunlight would be a surprise for a man who had not seen light in a month. A small murmur was heard from you as you asked. “Are you two okay? If I die now, I need you to know I never once blamed you.” Tears unwillingly fell from their face once more and even Levi had to stifle a cry at the words.

The commander of the survey corps carrying a limp body was a sight to see, so naturally it dragged the attention of surrounding villagers. Muttering began as they realised the body belonged to you, none other than [Name] [Last Name]. A strong soldier with a future in the military brighter than Queen Historia’s hair. You had always been good to the general public, and as such they had loved you in return. The survey corps knew the amount of influence you held over these villagers, even if you did not. They loved you, because you were kind even after the unrelenting dangers of the outside, you always kept your morals no matter how difficult and helped wherever you could. A small blonde girl ran up to Hange, ignoring the cry’s of the crowd gathered, and gripped the bloodied material of your shirt. She looked up to meet the commanders eyes silently pleading that you weren’t dead. She was one of many people you had helped and as such felt indebted to you. Your joyous face whenever you returned from an expedition out the walls would make her heart soar and you would even bring flowers for some upon occasion. She had a flower now, clutched in her trembling pale hand and she thrusted it into the space between you and Hange, and dropped it. The stem was discoloured and crumped from how tightly the young girl had gripped it. Hange nodded slightly, closing their eyes before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

“[Name] [Last Name] is not dead. Not now at least. We will get him into immediate care, and hopefully someone can tend to his injuries, as you can see they are quite severe. Do not worry though, we can keep you updated about his current condition and will tell you immediately if he does,” she began to choke up. “If he does end up dying.” A few in the crowd began to cry and others angrily shout. “Who the hell is responsible for this!” Hange looked down casted and they began to walk away, avoiding the question. If word got out that it was another scout, much less your own partner all hell would break loose and the scouts headquarters would most definitely be compromised. They would deal with Eren all in due time, and by god would he have hell to deal with.

Levi however turned to the man, and feeling nothing but absolute hatred for the former member of his squad spat out a bitter, “Eren Jeager.” Hange could punish him later, as long as justice was brought for his friend. The pair began to speed up as Hange felt your heart beat grow weaker, eventually breaking into a full blown sprint. Levi ran ahead to prepare the doctor, saying it was of the upmost importance. You and Hange eventually reached the doctor with Hange practically flinging themselves through the door and gently laid you on an unused table. The doctor was quick to rush to your side and carefully peeled off the sticky clothing, occasionally using a knife to cut parts away. With your body lying bare, both the doctor and the longest surviving members of the survey corps could fully see the damage Eren had inflicted. Hange let out a choked sob as Levi just stood, anger and disbelief evident on his face. The doctor immediately ushered the pair out the room, and pushing a piece of paper into their hands. “Find these plants, there are drawings in case you need help with identifying them.” He then pointed to the forest a whiles walk away from the doctors house. He slammed the door in their faces and got back to helping patch you up. It seems he wasn’t all talk as he helped stabilise your near death condition.

A knock at the door alerted the doctor of Hange and Levi’s arrival. He yelled at them for come in, not wanting to leave your body alone for any amount of time in case your condition would suddenly drop. The entered and the doctor set to work grinding the specific herbs and plants into a paste which he would apply to your body. Hange’s hand swiped over your newly cleaned face, you looked a lot better now that there wasn’t quite so much blood everywhere. The doctor smeared the newly made green paste on the more severe lacerations and quickly wrapped them in cloth.

“I.. I don’t know if he’ll make it out alive.” The blunt statement filled Hange and Levi’s head. You wouldn’t make it? But you were [Name] [Last Name]? The boy who kept smiling through everything? And yet as your chest rose and fell irregularly both Hange and Levi knew the chances of you living were slim.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Can I see [Name] today mama? I wanna give him flowers!” The woman looked down at her daughter and ruffled her blonde hair. “Of course honey, be back for lunch though, okay?” The girl nodded, beaming and rushed out her house, sprinting over the mismatched cobbles and up to the woods where you resided. Once she’d reached the forest, the trees split, almost as if guiding everyone who came, directly to [Name]. She ran down the rocky path, the villagers had collectively gathered to make a stone path all the way to [Name] so people can easily come and visit him. She almost tripped and dropped the flowers but a bush caught her, and she steadied herself once more. When she arrived she already saw Hange and Levi sitting by the sandstone headstone. “Ah- Mx Hange and Mr Levi, I didn’t know you were here sorry.” Hange smiled at the girl and beckoned her to come closer.

“That’s quite alright, we were just telling him we’d be back soon, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and I can’t bring myself to not run every plan through him first.” Levi grimaced at their words, he knew they weren’t taking [Name]’s death particularly well, especially after Eren only really got off with a slap on the wrist. He would come with her, hoping they wouldn’t do anything rash especially after Moblit died. Besides, he too had come to care about the ridiculously happy [hair colour] boy in his squad. The girl came and sat by his gravestone, taking the dying flowers off the grave and putting on her fresh ones. Hange smiled at the action, glad that even if Levi and them were to die, there would at least be someone to take care of his final resting place. “I wish you the best. [Name] [Last Name]”

#aot #attack on titan #male reader #snk #snk levi #hange zöe #hange supremacy #angst?#eren yeager #sad ending #unless you want to die #I probably shouldn’t put spoilers #don’t read the tags unless you want spoilers

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angryschnauzer · 5 years ago

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Superior Specimen - Chapter 8

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 8

On the tube an old woman had offered you a tissue and had whispered quietly;

“He’s not worth crying over my dear”

You swallowed and smiled weakly at her;

“Unfortunately he was… he was just an idiot too”

“They all are my dear, they all are”

She got off at the next stop, giving you a pat on the arm before leaving the carriage, leaving you ride the rest of the way to Fulham Broadway on your own.

You were on autopilot when you arrived, walking through the small shopping mall that had grown around the tube station, grabbing a pair of overpriced knock-off designer sunglasses from the concession stand to hide your puffy and red eyes, swollen from crying. As you stood in the crowd at the lights to cross the road, a stream of Ambulances and Police cars screamed past, lights and sirens blasting, but it was London, every day there was a crisis or accident and you were used to them.

The walk to your flat was quick, just a few roads from the tube, and you were thankful you’d brought your small clutch bag from the hotel room that had your phone, wallet, and keys in. Once inside you pulled off your clothing, everything Henry had bought for you, tossing it into a heap on the floor before you climbed into bed and curled into a ball, sobbing into the pillow.

You woke to the sound of a metal on plastic crunch from the street outside, familiar with the sound and you knew it was vehicle vs wheelie bin, an all too familiar occurrence when collection day was on a Friday and people went out that night, so the street would still be littered with bins the following day. Staring up at the ceiling you heard the doorbell ring, glaring at the ceiling but refusing to move. You didn’t care if your bin that had ended up a casualty of a car not looking where it was going, so when the bell finally timed out you closed your eyes… only to be rudely disturbed by a loud knocking on the door a minute later, a muffled voice from the other side;

“Princess… it’s me; Henry… please, just tell me you’re ok… I’ve got to know you’re ok…”

You could feel your emotions rising within you; a heat, an anger, and as the knocking continued you grabbed the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door and was still tying it as you pulled the door open, but surprised to see state of Henry, his clothes a mess and his face blotchy;

“What the hell happe…”

Your words were cut short as he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight;

“You’re alright… my god, you’re ok…”

“Henry, what is going on?”

He let you go and started pacing;

“I was an ass, I didn’t follow you, I was stupid… I tried calling you but you never picked up…”

“I had it on silent… I didn’t want anyone to disturb our date”

“And then the accident, I’d gone back to the hotel, I knew it was the closest tube to where we were...”

“Accident?”

“There was an accident, on the road outside the London Bridge Tube, a bus and council truck collided and ran into the queue… I stayed and helped the emergency services; I was trying to find you… but you weren’t there…”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears pooling on your lashes as you looked at him, and realised he cared so much for you that he had literally pulled people out of the wreckage of an major accident because he thought he had lost you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you cradled the back of his head as he slumped to the floor, sobbing into your shoulder and the softness of your dressing gown.

Finally he pulled his head back, a weak smile on his face as he looked into your eyes, and you saw a different Henry, one that was fragile, one that needed you as much as you needed him.

“C’mon, let me put the kettle on”

Sipping on sweet tea as you both sat at the kitchen table, dunking Digestive biscuits in the deep brown steaming mugs, you looked him up and down;

“You are a mess”

He glanced down and realised his shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, grime, and in some places blood;

“You’re right” he paused before looking back to you; “Look, I’ve got a suggestion… pack a bag. Comfy clothing, overnight things. We’ll head back to the hotel and collect our things, then head back to my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can talk… ask all those things we’ve both wanted to ask since we met, yeah?”

He looked at you like a hopeful puppy, his deep blue eyes watery where he feared you would say no, but as you nodded he let out the breath he had been holding, and a genuine smile spread over his face.

Henry opened the door to his place and stepped aside, letting you enter and look around as he shut the door, resting all the bags from the hotel room on the shiny white tiles that covered the floor.

“This is your place?”

“It’s home for the next few months” he shut the door and wrapped his arm around you; “I gave up on having a permanent place about five years ago. I would always come back to a dust filled nightmare and a fridge that was a biohazard. I keep a PO box for any mail and a storage unit for my things that I don’t need when I’m away”

You looked at him;

“It sounds very… lonely…”

He paused, considering your words;

“I’ve never thought about it that way… but, you’re right” he wrapped his arms around you, his gaze intense; “I’m sorry I over-reacted earlier… about your flatmate. I was just… I don’t know, so focused I guess on this amazing thing we have now, and what we were talking about last night… how those I fall for push me away when I have to leave… I could only think ‘this guy will be around when I’m not’...”

You reached up and cupped his cheek with your hand, realising in that moment that for all the bravado and confidence, beneath that Henry was just like you, like anyone else, and feared losing those he cared for;

“I would wait… I will wait…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and the pair of you just held each other for the longest time, before he pulled away;

“What kind of host am I? I haven’t even offered you a cup of tea!”

Laughing you followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the sparse worktops, all the cupboards pristine white. Even the appliances were just plain brushed aluminium. As the kettle bubbled away you pushed yourself up onto the central island, sitting on the marble countertop as you watched Henry move around the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk, sniffing it and cringing;

“Okay, tea may be off the menu… the milk’s off”

Pausing he opened the cupboard, shoulders slumping when he saw the empty tea caddy;

“No tea either…”

Leaning back you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened google maps;

“This is Warwick Square, right?”

“Yes”

You pinched the screen and zoomed out, jumping off the counter;

“C’mon, there’s a Tesco Express just around the corner”

Walking hand in hand around Pimlico with Henry, it dawned on you that you had never visited this part of London, the sights and sounds much like most of the city, but where each little borough had its own character. Once you reached the supermarket he grabbed a basket and picked up the few things he needed, before his hand hovered over the selection of biscuits;

“Ok, make or break time to find out if we are truly compatible” his voice had an element of mischief in it as he spoke; “Milk or Dark Chocolate Digestives?”

You looked at the selection before you set your hand down on the bright blue packet;

“Trick question, we both know the true answer is Milk Chocolate Hobnobs”

He laughed as you dropped the packet into the basket, wrapping his massive arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest;

“I knew there was a reason I loved you” he turned to the row of refrigerators on the other side of the isle, unaware of what he’d said, and how your eyes were a little wider as you took in his admission; “Shall I make some burnt offerings for you tonight? I have somewhat limited culinary skills, but I can rustle up something with meat or fish…”

Nodding you were still a little stunned, finally finding your voice;

“Yeah, I’ll eat anything”

He cocked an eyebrow and you playfully batted at his arm;

“Oh shut up” you laughed

Dinner had been nice. An easy dish of roasted pork, Henry had thrown in some potatoes and had let them roast with alongside, and a simple salad. The one thing he did have readily stocked in his place was alcohol, and between the two of you an entire bottle of vintage Pinot Noir had been sunk over the course of dinner, and as you watched him stack the dishwasher you spread out on the massive white sofa that dominated the open plan space. You couldn’t help yourself but you popped the button of your jeans, letting out a sigh of relief.

Checking your phone you reopened your roommates’ email and read it again, before hitting reply. You knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to get a mortgage, but asked that you be kept in the loop and would start looking for another place come Monday. Having hit send you saw another email, this time from your Manager, requesting that you attend a review on Monday morning;

“Huh, so much for giving me a week off” you muttered to yourself, before looking up and seeing Henry approaching you, two full glasses of red wind in hand.

“Everything ok?”

Taking the glass you smiled;

“Yeah, work want me to go in for a review on Monday morning”

“Did they say what it was about?”

“No, but I’m guessing ‘playing heroics and injuring yourself on the job isn’t in your job description, please don’t sue us’ is probably on the agenda”

Settling next to you he rested a hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze;

“I’m sure you’re right” he sipped at the wine before setting it on the small table at the side; “Hey I meant to ask, does your roommate have an Instagram account or Facebook page?”

“Yeah, I’ll pull it up. Its where he’s trying to do more serious photography”

He nodded and tapped at his phone for a few seconds before setting it aside, raising his glass again and clinking it against yours;

“Cheers”

By the time the last dregs of the 2nd bottle of wine were drained from your glasses you were drunk as skunks and just an amorous. You were draped over Henry’s lap, his hand was attempting to sneak under your t-shirt as you curled one hand in his hair, wrapping a deep brown strand around your finger as you kissed him lazily. When his hand finally found your breast you moaned at his touch, his lips brushing against your neck;

“I think we should take this to the bedroom”

You giggled;

“With the amount of wine we’ve had? Can you still get it up?”

He pushed his crotch up against you;

“Princess I’m already ‘up’, now I need to be in, and I don’t care which hole, I just want to feel you around my dick as we have some nasty drunk sex”

You attempted to slide off his lap and land on your feet, but what really happened was you tumbled into a heap on the soft white rug, one leg still on the sofa as the other hit the coffee table and your ass in the air;

“Help!” you cried out, giggling as Henry stood and swayed, before wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you under his arm to the bedroom like a misbehaving poodle in Harrods.

He dropped you onto the bed and in the light from the lounge you watched as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, and started to unfasten his jeans, letting out a sigh of relief when the massive bulge in his boxers was allowed more room to grow. With a growl be bent over you and pulled your jeans down your legs, your panties following suit, before flipping you over so you were on your front. He went to reach for your ass but had forgotten his jeans were still around his thighs, and he proceeded to trip-tumble onto the bed beside you. You couldn’t help but to giggle into the soft duvet, and it earned you a single spank on your ass that make you squeal.

Rolling onto your back you looked at Henry as he huffed and puffed to take his jeans and boxers off, and you spread your legs as your hands strayed to your pussy;

“Are you doing to fuck me, or shall I just get myself started?” you said with more sass than needed, but it earned you a low groan and you could have sworn you heard seams ripping as he finally rid himself of his clothes.

“Cheeky wench!” Henry pounced on you, pulling your top over your head before fumbling with your bra, finally getting you out of it as he flung it across the room and you heard it hit something in the darkness; “I’ll show you, gonna fuck you so good you’ll have to sit on a cushion when you go into work on Monday”

He flipped you over and pulled your ass up, and you instinctively arched your back and bared yourself to him, prone and ready, begging for attention. You felt his hands smooth over your ass before dipping between your legs;

“Already so wet for me, you need me to fuck this cunt Princess? Fill you up with my cum? Or should I cum over your beautiful tits, so you can watch me as I spray my load on you, huh?”

He slid two fingers into your soaked hole, stretching you as his thumb found your clit and he rubbed harshly at it, the wine making him lose his finesse but up his pressure. When he pulled his fingers out you let out a needy whine, only to feel him press his dick against you, rutting into your crease and smearing your juices over himself.

The friction was delicious, and you found yourself pressing back and eager for more, earning a low chuckle to rumble up from Henry’s chest;

“You like that Princess? Like me rubbing my dick against your asshole?”

“Oh fuck… fuck… more…”

You felt him spit on your ass as he lowered his dick and slowly but firmly filled your pussy. As you were getting used to be filled so deep you felt his thumb press against your asshole;

“NERD!”

Suddenly Henry stopped;

“Princess?”

You turned, looking over your shoulder;

“Look Hen, I may be up for some anal play, but lube… you gotta use lube…”

You saw him look back and forth between your ass and his bedside drawers, as if trying to work out whether to forget the ass play and just fuck your pussy, or to give up your pussy for just a few seconds and get the lube. In the end the lube won, and he quickly slid out of you, leaning across the bed and yanking the drawer open, before pulling out a small bottle of Durex Lube. You saw it and grinned;

“Ooh nice one. Make sure there’s enough for a tit-wank in the morning”

Henry paused and looked at you, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting at what you’d said as it fought through the wine haze;

“Fuck, if I didn’t want to fuck you doggy style quite so much I’d say let’s do that now…”

He settled behind you and rammed his dick straight back into you, making you squeal as he filled you. You heard the quiet squeeze of the pump on the bottle before the cool gel fell on the crease of your ass and his fingers started to massage against your back door. He ran his finger around and around your brown rose, and you could feel yourself relaxing and trying to push back to get him to go further, making you whine;

“Please Hen… do something…”

He ran his thumb over your asshole and rested it on it before finally pushing in, holding the digit inside just up to the first knuckle, and that’s when he started to move in your pussy.

“So. Fucking. Good. My dirty little Princess…”

You whined for more, for him to go harder, deeper, and he did so with glee;

“You want more? Fuck yes, take my dick, can feel your insides parting for me, you like my thumb in your ass? Like being double stuffed?”

“Fuck…” your head was swimming, your chest resting against the bed as you snuck your hand between your legs and started to strum at your clit, urging your orgasm on as Henry turned into a feral beast behind you, fucking you raw and dirty, you pushing back for each thrust to feel him deeper and split you wider.

Your orgasm happened without warning, screaming out his name as you came so hard he was sure if he hadn’t pulled his thumb out your muscles would have broken the bones in it. Your knees gave way and you slumped down onto the bed, Henry still deep inside you, fucking you as you lay spent on the bed;

“So close… almost there…

“Cum on my ass Hen…” you muttered as he railed into you, and you heard a groan as he pulled out of you, seconds later the splash of his hot seed landing on your naked ass, back and thighs.

For a moment everything went quiet before you felt him wiping his cum from you, and he moved you in the bed until you were curled up in his arms, the little spoon to his big;

“You’re fucking amazing Princess, I fucking love you so much” he slurred, before the two of you feel asleep in drunken stupors.

Chapter 9 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill au

183 notes · View notes

teenwolffan-with-nolife · 5 years ago

Text

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.11

Word Count: 1,420

Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey (brief), Reader

Parings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: ---

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“I was gonna wait for dramatic flair… but….” Peter looked in the mirror next to him, healing his burnt skin.

You and Derek were next to each other, both bloodied, both beaten, and both barely clinging onto consciousness.

No spell could help you now, you needed clarity of mind, and all your power was focused on keeping your eyes open.

“Derek, (Y/N), you have to give me a chance to explain. We’re family, aren't we?” Peter bent down, looking at the two of you.

“Family doesn't kill each other. You’re not family,” you spat.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N), accidents happen,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“You killed my mom, you killed Laura, and you tried to kill me three times. I don’t want to hear your excuses,” you said, wincing from the pain.

“What if I could help get revenge on the Argents?” Peter asked.

“Are you-” you started.

“(Y/N), let him talk,” Derek cut you off.

“Thank you, Derek. Here’s how this is gonna go,”

---

“You’re insane!” you exclaimed, looking at Peter.

“(Y/N),” Derek sighed.

“Are you seriously gonna take his side on this? You’re joking! You’re talking about turning an innocent kid into a murderer!” you yelled.

“Oh, please. We’re not killing everyone, just the ones responsible. We'll need your help,” Peter said.

“Forget it. Screw you, Peter,” you scoffed.

“(Y/N),” Derek started, putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, don't even get me started on you! I’m extremely disappointed in you, Derek! What happened to ‘I’m gonna kill the alpha’? Are you really forgetting everything he did?!” you yelled.

“I don’t like this plan,” you sighed, looking back at Derek.

“Well, it’s the only thing we have,” Derek said.

“Yeah, but I don't trust Peter. He’s hiding something,” you crossed your arms.

“I’m right here, you know,” Peter interrupted.

You turned to him.

“I don’t trust you!” you said aggressively.

“What happened to the ten-year-old who would trust me to hold her off a building?” Peter asked, thinking back to a memory.

“You tried to kill me, Peter! I was terrified, you let go of me!” you scoffed.

“What? When did that happen?” Derek asked you, immediately tensing up.

“But I caught you. I still saved your life,” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“After putting it in danger! You know what, fuck this. Bye,” you flipped Peter off before leaving.

---

“(Y/N)! Peter’s the-” Scott ran to you.

“I know,” you sighed.

“And Derek-” he said.

“I know,” you said.

“And the Argent’s -” Scott exclaimed.

“I know, Scott,” you sighed.

“You look like hell,” he frowned.

“Thanks,” you glared.

“I didn't mean like… you look tired,” he said nervously.

“Yeah, I know. So, what are you thinking about telling Peter?” you asked him.

“I don’t know. He wants me to kill everyone, and I can’t do that,” he sighed.

“Peter’s an asshole. Which makes perfect sense that he’s the alpha. I knew it was someone I know,” you said.

“How do you know the Hale’s in the first place?” Scott asked.

“I was best friends with Derek’s younger sister, Cora,” you laughed slightly, remembering.

“I was at a park, playing all alone before I met you and Stiles. Cora kind of stole one of my stuffed animals, so I hit her, and our moms forced us to talk it out and apologize. We became friends after that. My mom figured out that Cora’s mom was a werewolf, and her mom, Talia knew my mom was an ex-hunter,” your eyes watered slightly, feeling a tear slip at the memory. You were only a child then, everything was good in life, you didn’t know you had powers. You were happy.

“The Hales were my family. I loved them more than anything. And then Kate… when Kate killed them, my best friend was trapped in there, and she died,” you sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I had no idea,” Scott put a hand on your arm.

“Yeah… but that’s all in the past. You got me to cry in public so fuck you,” you laughed as you wiped your eyes.

Jackson walked past the two of you, giving Scott a look.

“What was that about?” you asked him.

“He wants me to get him the bite. He knows that I’m a wolf,” Scott sighed.

“What? How?” you asked.

“I don’t know. But now, Kate thinks he’s Peter's third beta,” Scott sighed, leaning against the locker.

“Third?” you asked.

“Yeah, Derek, and two more. But she doesn't know who. She thinks Jackson’s one of them,” he explained.

“This crap is crazy. Look, I gotta get to class, but I’ll see you?” you turned to him.

“Yeah,” he nodded as you waved him goodbye.

---

“(Y/N),” you heard Peter's voice from behind you and Isaac.

You sighed, telling Isaac to go ahead, and you'll catch up with him.

“What part of fuck you do you fail to understand? Go away,” you said.

“My nephew tells me that you’re going to meet with Kate today,” he started.

“Right… and that’s your business, why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You should know better than consorting with the enemy,” Peter said.

“They're no more my enemy than you. Now what do you want?” you crossed your arms.

“I need a spell,” he shrugged.

“What makes you think I’ll do one for you?” you asked.

“Because I know you. And somewhere deep down there, you still care about me,” Peter teased.

“Oh, please. I stopped caring about you long before the fire,” you scoffed.

“Sometimes you give me no choice but to go to extremes. Either do the spell or I'll do something you’ll regret,” he said, walking near you.

“Like what?” you rolled your eyes.

“Like Isaac. He seems like a good, strong, tall kid. I wonder how he'd be with powers,” he smirked.

“If you go anywhere near him, I’ll kill you,” you spat.

“Then do the spell,” he said.

“What do you want it for?” you sighed.

“A few years ago, my dear sister took away a memory from me,” he started.

“What memory?” you asked.

“I don't know. That’s what you’re gonna find out. And if you don’t, I’ll turn your little friend there into a wolf.”

You groaned, not wanting to help Peter, but you didn't want to risk Isaac.

“Fine,” you stood in front of him, putting your hands on his head.

“Ostende mihi qui absconditus est,” you recited the spell, closing your eyes.

There were flashes, you watched as the fire burned down everyone you cared about, everyone you loved.

You heard Peter’s screams, calling out for Cora.

The 9-year-old girl stood in front of him.

“Cora,” you said softly.

Peter grabbed her, pushing her out the window, helping her get away.

You pulled away from Peter, gasping.

“Did you see it? What was it?” Peter asked.

“Y-You… Cora’s alive,” your eyes watered instantly.

“That wasn’t it! Do it again,” Peter said.

“You saved Cora! S-She’s alive,” you took a shaky breath.

“(Y/N),” Peter warned.

“I have to go tell Derek! Oh my god!” you ran out of the school, finding Derek.

---

You ran into the old Hale House, tears in your eyes.

“Derek! Derek!” you yelled, calling him.

There was no answer.

You ran up the stairs, trying to find him.

You heard some shuffling outside, thinking it was Derek as you ran outside the house.

Instead, you were met with 5 hunters, pointing their guns at you.

Beautiful you put your hands up.

“Don’t kill me. I’m on your side,” you said.

“No, you’re not. You animal,” one of them barked.

“What do you mean? Look, put the guns down, let's talk this out,” you said nervously.

You didn't see Kate come from behind you, hitting you in the head with her gun, as you fell to the ground, unconscious.

---

You groaned, opening your eyes.

“(Y/N),” you heard Derek’s voice.

“What? Derek?” you scrunched your eyes looking at him.

You felt a pull, looking up to see your wrists chained up, while there was a chain pulling your body back.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here,” you whispered to him.

You let out a pained scream as you felt electricity coursing through your body.

“(Y/N)!” Derek yelled.

“W-What the hell was that?” you gasped for air.

“That is what happens when you try to escape,” Kate held a remote in her hands, walking into the room.

“Well, we’re gonna have some fun, aren’t we?”

271 notes · View notes

kpop-zone · 5 years ago

Text

Twice reaction to their wife throwing her wedding ring

A/N: Blame my favorite writer on here for the angsty ending of one of the reactions. She just had to post the most heartbreaking scenario ever, so I wasn’t in the mood for fluff anymore :D

Nayeon

As soon as Jeongyeon showed her the phone, Nayeon knew that she had messed up. It was all over the news.

‘Twice’s Nayeon and GOT7’s Mark dating’

You had been insecure from the start. Nayeon was known for her visuals and surely many people wanted to date her. There had already been dating rumors about her and another idol in the beginning of your relationship and it needed a lot of convincing till you believed her instead of the newspapers.

But this time it was different. This time, it truly seemed like, she had been cheating. Some fans had taken pictures of her and Mark backstage. She was leaning against a wall and Mark was leaning into her while resting his hand next to her head. Of course, no one had published the pictures that were taken only a second later, when Nayeon vehemently pushed him away and told him that she was married.

Nayeon needed to talk to you. Gladly her members were willing to back her up, so she rushed out of the practice room, while she heard the other members excuse her with a lie. She had never been home faster in her life, but apparently, she hadn’t been fast enough. When she entered the apartment, she almost stumbled over a suitcase.

“Jagi?”

She yelled panicked before rushing into the bedroom where you were just packing a second suitcase.

Quickly Nayeon made her way over to you and grabbed your arms.

“Let go off me, Nayeon!”

You exclaimed angrily, but she tightened her grasp without hurting you, of course.

“No, listen to me. I won’t let some fans destroy this relationship.”

Nayeon stated firmly and you stopped trying to rip away your arms.

“If you want to leave me because you can’t stand dating an idol anymore that’s fine. But I don’t want you to leave me because you think I have cheated. Because I haven’t. And I never would.”

She continued and a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Then where are those pictures coming from?”

You sobbed, causing Nayeon to instinctively step closer to you, but you hastily stumbled backwards to get out of her reach.

“You are always doing that! Playing with fire and flirting with other idols.”

Your voice cracked and suddenly you reached for your wedding ring and threw it in Nayeon’s direction.

She was taken aback for a second, but then she gained her composure back again. Quickly she took a step forward and grabbed your head to gently push it against her body. You fought back at first, but then you gave in to her embrace and let Nayeon stroke the side of your head.

“Mark was flirting with me; I won’t deny that. But I immediately pushed him away. I swear that I don’t want anybody else but you. No one can compare to you.”

She explained and you started to calm down in her arms.

As soon as your sobs ceased, Nayeon crouched down to pick up your wedding ring. She looked at your hand and felt a twinge in her heart when she saw your unadorned finger. Quickly she grabbed your hand and put the ring on its foreseen place again.

You were hers.

Jeongyeon

Jeongyeon leaned her head against the front door. She had had a hell of a day. First, her company tortured the members with an inhuman practice, then they had an unpleasant encounter with a sasaeng at a press event and later the staff had told her that she had to go through another diet.

But she couldn’t let you know all of this.

You had to go through enough just because she was your wife. She couldn’t make your life even harder by putting all her worries on your plate too. Therefore, Jeongyeon took a deep breath before putting on a smile and entering the apartment. You were standing in the kitchen and preparing dinner. As soon as you saw your wife, your face lit up and Jeongyeon immediately walked over to you to kiss you.

Although she had only seen you this morning, she had missed you and there was nothing better than coming home to you. But today she noticed that you had a weird look on your face.

“Are you ok?”

She asked concerned, but you nodded your head quickly.

“Yeah, of course! Dinner’s almost ready. You can sit at the counter and tell me about your day till the meat is done.”

You smiled and Jeongyeon kept looking at you suspiciously but then she followed your suggestion.

“Well my day has been great. Practice has been fun, and the fans were super cute...”

Jeongyeon lied but was suddenly interrupted when you slammed your hand on the counter.

She looked at you in shock, but you kept your back turned to her.

“Jagi?”

She asked confused, causing you to finally turn around.

Your face was stern and Jeongyeon could see the anger in your eyes.

“Really? What else do I have to do to finally get you to talk?”

You questioned and she looked at you perplexed.

“I’ve seen the videos. You were attacked by a sasaeng today. What else are you not telling me?”

Jeongyeon quickly avoided your gaze, because she didn’t know what to tell you.

“It’s not like that...”

She stammered, but you only laughed cynically in response.

“It’s not like what? So you are telling me everything?”

Because Jeongyeon didn’t want to lie to you again, she didn’t answer your question, but you only got angrier in response.

You continued to blame her for keeping secrets and Jeongyeon just submitted to your accusations, staying quiet throughout the whole time. You had a right to be angry. However, she hadn’t expected that her silence made everything worse.

“Don’t you have anything to say in your defense?”

You asked eventually, but Jeongyeon couldn’t form any coherent sentences.

Frustrated, you shook your head before suddenly reaching for your wedding ring and pulling it of your finger.

“If you don’t want to be in this relationship anymore, you could have just said so.”

You gritted through your teeth before throwing the ring in her direction.

The sound of the metal hitting the counter finally pulled Jeongyeon out of her trance. Instantly she leaped to her feet and sprinted to you, because you were just about to leave the apartment.

“I’m sorry.”

She blurted out and you looked at her annoyed.

“I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to burden you. You already have to endure so much because I’m an idol, I don’t want to make it even worse by worrying you.”

Jeongyeon finally admitted and you stopped in your motions.

“Jeongyeon that’s the point of being married. To share everything. Your happy moments and your sad ones.”

You responded and she gulped.

Of course, you were right, but it was just so hard. It was killing her that she couldn’t spend more time with you; that you couldn’t show yourself in public like any other person on this planet. And then she was supposed to make your life even harder by telling you all her sorrows?

But if that was what you wanted; she would give in to your wishes.

“I’m sorry. I can change. I will tell you everything from now on.”

She promised and you looked at her contemplatively.

“Please, come back inside. Let’s have dinner.”

You sighed, but gladly brushed past her and walked back into the kitchen, where you tried to save the food that was half-burnt by now. Suddenly tears sprung into Jeongyeon’s eyes and she needed to inhale deeply to not break down. She couldn’t believe how close she had been to losing you.

Sheepishly she followed you into the kitchen after she had composed herself again. You were just setting the table and Jeongyeon wordlessly sat down. She didn’t know whether you were still mad at her and needed some space. Nervously, she glanced at you from the side until you eventually sighed.

“Do you want to tell me about your day again?”

You asked and your voice was a lot softer this time.

Apparently, you had been able to sense Jeongyeon’s discomfort. She nodded eagerly and when she saw you putting on your wedding ring again that was laying on the counter, a wide smile spread on her face.

Momo

You were standing in the kitchen, humming along to a song and preparing an afternoon snack for your family that was supposed to come home any minute now. But suddenly your phone rang, so you put down the food to pick it up.

“Mom can you come and get us? Mommy has forgotten us again.”

Your daughter whined into the speaker and you clenched your phone angrily.

“Of course, baby. I’ll be there in no time and we can grab some ice cream on the way back home. How does that sound?”

You offered apologetically and your children cheered on the other end of the line.

Your smiley demeanor crumbled though as soon as you hung up the phone. You were tired of the unreliability of your wife. This was the fourth time in two weeks that she had forgotten to pick up the kids or to be there for a school performance. Momo had never had a lot of time, but lately it had worsened, and you started to feel like a single parent.

“Might as well be one.”

You mumbled to yourself as you left the house to pick up your kids.

After you had gotten the promised ice cream, you brought them to a friend’s house. They didn’t need to witness what was about to happen once your wife got home.

Your decision manifested itself in the next two hours that you spent alone at home, because Momo took her time to finally join you. But then you could hear the front door open and the familiar voice of your wife.

“I’m home! Where are my princesses?”

She yelled into the house as usual, but this time, her daughters didn’t run to the entrance to greet her.

Therefore, your confused wife eventually entered the living room where you were already waiting for her.

“Hey, babe. Are the kids sleeping at a friend’s house?”

Momo asked while walking over to you to greet you properly.

But before she could peck your lips, you extended your arm to block her. Even more confused she looked at you questioningly and you gestured her to sit down.

“We need to talk.”

You said sternly, causing Momo to sit down immediately like a little kid that was awaiting to be scolded.

“I’m tired.”

You huffed while massaging your temples, because you could feel a headache forming.

“Didn’t you sleep well?”

Momo responded and normally you probably would have found her naivety cute, but today you were even more annoyed.

“No, I’m tired of this marriage. I’m tired of being the only one that puts any effort in it and I’m tired of always being alone.”

Your voice became shakier with every word as tears started to pool in your eyes.

You weren’t sure if you really wanted to leave Momo. After all you loved her. But you wanted her to fight for you; show you that she didn’t want to lose you. But she just kept sitting in front of you without saying a single word. Impatiently you waited if she had anything to say about your statement, but it seemed like she wasn’t even listening. Frustrated you leaped to your feet and grabbed the ring on your finger.

“I can’t believe this Momo. Do you even care?”

You yelled in her face before throwing your wedding ring at her and storming into the bedroom.

Angrily you paced up and down the room. When you realized what you had just done, your tears streamed down your face and you tried muffling your sobs with your hand.

It was over.

The realization only sunk in slowly and with every minute, your heart ached more. You were about to slump to the ground in pain when you could suddenly hear a knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

The broken voice of your wife called out and you started to cry even more.

Slowly the door opened, and the tear-stained face of your wife appeared.

“Please don’t leave me.”

She whispered almost inaudible.

When you saw all the pain in her eyes, you sat down on the bed and buried your face in your hands, because you couldn’t stand to look at her any longer. Suddenly you felt the bed dip and arms wrap around your body.

“Please. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

Momo begged before burying her head in the crook of your neck.

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around her body and let the two of you cry in each other’s shoulders. After a while, Momo pulled away and slowly grabbed your hand. Shakily she put on your wedding ring again before kissing your finger.

“Please don’t leave me.”

As you looked into the puffy eyes of your wife, you knew that you could never hurt her like that. Therefore, you slowly shook your head, causing Momo to sigh in relief and crash her body into yours.

Sana

The afternoon was supposed to be a chance to catch up with your wife, because you hadn’t had that much time together lately. But right now, you regretted your decision.

The two of you had taken a stroll in a park and when you spotted an ice cream stand, Sana had whined so long until you agreed to buy her one. While you walked up to the stand, your wife sat down on a bench and waited for you. But just when you were about to order the ice cream, a colleague had run into you.

He happily greeted you with a hug and you instantly started to chat about your day, because both of you got along well. Suddenly, however, Sana had snatched your hand and had pulled you away.

“We need to leave.”

She had mumbled and perplexed you had let her take the lead.

But as soon as you were out of earshot of your colleague, you had stopped abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

You asked, checking if your wife was hurt or something which would explain her sudden behavior.

But Sana only glared at you and slowly realization hit you.

“Wait were you jealous?”

You chuckled, not knowing whether you should be amused or offended by your wife’s behavior.

“Who’s that? And why were you flirting with him?”

Sana asked agitated, causing you to be taking aback by the anger in her voice.

“I wasn’t flirting.”

You defended yourself but Sana only scoffed.

“I’m not blind, Y/N. Is that what you do when I’m on tour too?”

By now several people were already staring at the two of you, because Sana’s high-pitched voice was audible in the whole park. Sheepishly you looked around before grabbing your wife’s hand and pulling her to the car.

“Not here. Except you want the whole world to know about our fight.”

You gritted through your teeth and Sana followed you without grumbling.

The car ride was made in silence, but as soon as you had entered the apartment, your consideration had reached its limit.

“Can you tell me what your problem is?”

You snapped at her and Sana immediately crossed her arms protectively.

“I just think it’s unbelievable how you flirt with someone else while I am around. I wonder what happens when you’re alone.”

She said coldly and you stared at her in disbelief.

“What is wrong with you? Can’t I talk with people now? I’m not your property!”

You responded, but Sana didn’t step down.

“No, but you’re my wife!”

You couldn’t believe her right now; you had never given her a reason to treat you like that.

“If being your wife means that I can’t even talk with other people, then I don’t want to be your wife any longer!”

You yelled as you slipped the ringer off your finger and threw it at Sana.

With wide eyes your wife watched the ring bounce off her chest before staring at you.

“Y/N...”

She gasped in shock. Her expression had changed from one second to another.

You couldn’t see any anger in her eyes anymore, instead pure panic had brought tears into her eyes.

But your anger hadn’t vanished yet. Instead you scoffed and turned on your heel to storm off, but Sana quickly grabbed your wrist.

“Wait! I’m sorry. Don’t go. You’re right, I’m wrong.”

She stuttered but you just laughed emotionlessly.

“Oh am I now? Forget it Sana, I’m sick of your jealousy.”

You spat out before trying to rip yourself free.

But your wife was stronger than she looked. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around your arm and you couldn’t manage to get space between the two of you before you were tackled into an embrace.

Her body shook vehemently against yours and you realized that she had completely lost her composure. She was mumbling apologies over and over again until you couldn’t hold back anymore and lightly stroked her hair.

“Sana... stop crying. It’s ok.”

Desperately you tried calming her because you were worried that she might get a panic attack.

You kept whispering loving words into her ear without making promises that you weren’t planning to keep. Eventually your wife’s sobs died down after you had sat down while letting her rest in your lap and you sighed in relief.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Sana stuttered as she held out your wedding ring with shaky hands. You looked at it contemplatively.

Was your marriage worth enduring your wife’s jealousy?

Jihyo

After you had hung up the call with your mother, your phone slipped out of your hand and you covered your mouth in shock. She had just told you not your grandmother had died and although she had been old, you had not expected to receive this message. Tears immediately started to fill your eyes and you wished that your wife was already home to comfort you, but she was still at work. Nevertheless, you decided to text her.

When are you coming home? I miss you

You asked, because you didn’t want to stress her or be too clingy. Like expected, however, you didn’t receive an answer right away. Jihyo never had her phone with her during practice. Therefore, you rolled up on your bed and hugged your own body for comfort. Only after almost two hours, a text message from Jihyo finally popped up on your phone screen.

I’m sorry, my love. Don’t wait up on me today. I need to help Chaeyoung with something.

When you read your wife’s message, new tears streamed down your face. You really didn’t want to be alone right now. But what other choice did you have. Therefore, you kept lying on the bed, trying to force yourself to sleep, because being awake only hurt.

After drifting in and out of sleep for a while, you could eventually hear Jihyo entering your apartment. Soon she walked into the room and slipped under the covers next to you. Like usual, she wanted to hug you from behind, but today you weren’t in the mood for cuddles. At least not now; after she had left you alone the whole day. You knew that your reaction was irrational. Jihyo couldn’t have known that you needed her. Nevertheless, it wasn’t the first time that you had wanted her by your side, but instead she was still out there, helping her members like always. Therefore, you removed her arm again as soon as it wrapped around your body.

“What’s wrong?”

Jihyo’s concerned voice immediately sounded from behind you.

“Nothing.”

You mumbled in response, but your hoarse voice gave away that you were lying.

Without hesitation, Jihyo turned on the light on your nightstand and gently pushed down your shoulder to be able to look at you.

“Have you been crying?”

You could see in her eyes that she was on high alert now.

Quickly you averted your gaze, but Jihyo had already seen right through you and pulled you into her arms.

“Hey, you can talk to me, jagi. What’s bothering you?”

Her soft voice was supposed to calm you, but you pushed her away and got off the bed.

Jihyo looked at you with wide eyes and you huffed in frustration.

“Your concern comes a little late now. I needed you earlier, but of course you were busy comforting others instead of your own wife.”

You spat out, causing your wife to be at a loss for words.

Therefore, you took your chance and kept venting your anger. Jihyo silently endured your accusations before you eventually took off your wedding ring and threw it at your wife, blinded by your rage.

As soon as the ring landed in front of her, you regretted your action. The hurt in Jihyo’s eyes was the most painful thing you had ever seen and when she looked at you with tears streaming down her cheeks, your heart broke.

“I’m sorry. I know that I haven’t been a good wife.”

She sobbed, causing you to instantly crash your body into hers.

Your anger had left your body and you wrapped your arms around Jihyo.

“You’re not a bad wife, jagi. You’re the best I could have ever asked for. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I was saying.”

You tried to apologize to make your wife stop crying.

Jihyo buried her head in your body and kept mumbling apologies until her tears died down.

When she pulled away, her gaze immediately fell to your ring that was still laying in front of her. Therefore, you quickly took it and slipped it back on your finger before pressing a kiss on Jihyo’s forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

The two of you definitely had a few things to resolve, but you went too far this time and you promised yourself to never hurt your wife like that again.

Mina

When you saw the news of another idol going public with their relationship, you quickly turned off your phone and buried your face in your hands. Deep down you understood why Mina couldn’t go public with her relationship with you. But nevertheless, you wished that she would. The two of you were married for three years now and you still had to hide and couldn’t even step out of the house together. It was exhausting and your sympathy from the beginning had slowly turned into frustration.

Therefore, you were even more irritated after reading the news. Sulkily you continued to work until you could finally call it a day. Although you weren’t too sure if you really wanted to go home. Mina would be waiting for you and you didn’t know whether you had calmed down by now. To squander more time, you drove to the grocery store although you didn’t need anything, but after a while you really had to return to Mina, because you knew how quickly she got worried.

As soon as you entered the apartment, you heard the concerned voice of your wife.

“Y/N?”

She called and you felt your bad conscious nagging on you.

“Yeah, I’m home! I needed to pick up some groceries at the store.”

You excused your late arrival but when Mina appeared in the entrance, you could see that she wasn’t satisfied with your response.

“But I only went there yesterday.”

She answered confused while looking at you suspiciously.

“Well I remembered that I needed something else.”

You quickly responded before brushing past her to bring the groceries to the kitchen.

Mina followed you close behind, and you felt that she was still overthinking this situation. For her own sake you wished that she wouldn’t have.

“Are you mad at me?”

She asked hesitantly and you slumped your shoulders in defeat. There was no point in hiding it.

“A little but it’s not your fault.”

You responded honestly, causing Mina to look at you with her head tilted in confusion.

It was really easy to make her insecure and you really didn’t intent to, but you didn’t want to lie to her either.

“Just leave it Mina.”

You said a little annoyed, causing your wife to jump in surprise.

But then she sat up straighter and crossed her arms.

“No I want you to talk to me.”

Mina demanded and you rolled your eyes.

You didn’t want to fight, but if you said what was bothering you, it was bound to happen.

“But I don’t want to talk.”

You huffed and wanted to flee the scene, but Mina quickly grabbed your wrist and held you back.

“Stop being so immature!”

She scolded you, making your bottled-up anger come to a boil.

“I’m immature? You can’t even speak up for yourself and go public with our relationship!”

You suddenly blurted out but regretted your words as soon as they had left your lips.

Mina narrowed her eyes at you, and you knew that you had struck a chord.

“So that’s what this is all about? I can’t believe you, Y/N. Do you really want me to give up my career so badly?”

She had a point, but your stubbornness forbade you to let her have the last word.

“Of course, you don’t understand me. Sometimes I think, you are glad that you aren’t allowed to go public!”

You spat out and Mina stared at you in disbelief.

“Wow Y/N. In moments like this I wonder if this is all worth the stress.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs and made tears spring to your eyes. You didn’t know what to respond, so you grabbed the ring on your finger and threw it in Mina’s direction.

“Fine, if you think like that, you can have that one back.”

Abruptly you turned around to storm off to your shared bedroom, but in the split second before you ran away, you could see the sheer panic in Mina’s eyes. Nevertheless, you kept going your way and slammed the door loudly, before throwing yourself on the bed and crying your eyes out. Shortly after, you could hear the front door opening and closing again, causing even more tears to stream down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe that she would just leave you like that.

Eventually you cried yourself to sleep. You only woke up a few hours later when it was already the middle of the night. When you opened your eyes, you could see that your lamp on your nightstand was on. Next to it were flowers, some snacks and a glass of water. Mina must have bought those things after leaving earlier.

When you turned around though, your wife wasn’t laying next to you like usual. Feeling fear creeping its way into your head, you quickly got up and made your way to the living room to search for Mina. The room was dark, but you could make out your wife’s figure on the couch. When you turned on the light, you could see that her face was tear stained. Her gaze met yours and a broken whimper escaped her lips.

“I’m sorry.”

She choked out before starting to sob loudly.

Quickly you rushed to her and crouched down in front of her to be able to embrace her tightly.

“No, I’m sorry. My accusations were ridiculous. I’m so sorry Mina for making you cry.”

You responded, but Mina kept apologizing, nevertheless.

Eventually her tears died down and you pulled back to look her into the eyes.

“Can we please forget that tonight ever happened? I would never want to live without you.”

She pleaded and you nodded instantly.

“Of course. I love you.”

You answered and Mina pulled you in for a kiss.

After she pulled away, she held out her fist and when she opened it, you could see your wedding ring laying on her palm. Your heart ached when you thought about ever having to live without Mina, therefore, you quickly grabbed it and put it on your finger. A wide smile spread in your wife’s face and she pressed another kiss on your lips before wrapping her arms around your body.

Dahyun

“Hi, this is the mailbox of Dahyun...”

Angrily you hung up the call when the familiar message greeted you. Dahyun was supposed to be here 30 minutes ago and your patience had finally run out. You had cut her a lot of slack, because of her career, but enough was enough. She couldn’t even honor you with her presence on your birthday?

Disappointed you made your way to the living room where your friends and family was waiting.

“Dahyun says ‘Hi’ to all of you, but unfortunately she has been held up in the company.”

You apologized the absence of your wife with a fake smile, although you could see in the faces of everybody that they could see your disappointment.

You didn’t really feel like celebrating right now, nevertheless, you didn’t want to be a bad host. Therefore, you put on a mask and pretended like you weren’t heartbroken because of Dahyun’s carelessness. The next hours dragged on like gum, but because your bad mood was unconcealable, everyone left rather early and you were left alone in your apartment. Finally, you could let your tears run freely, so you curled up on the couch and sobbed into your hands. Not only because your wife had obviously forgotten about your birthday but also because you knew what you had to do once she came home.

Like on cue, the front door opened, and you could hear Dahyun enter the apartment. Quickly you got to your feet and wiped away your tears. Your wife entered the living room and immediately scanned the room. There was a big ‘Happy Birthday’ sign hanging across the room and her gaze immediately fell on you, while her eyes widened almost comically.

“Jagi...”

She breathed in disbelief and a new set of tears stained your face.

“Save it.”

You choked out, before storming into the bedroom, where you put out a suitcase on the bed and started to throw random clothes in it.

“No, no, no. What are you doing?”

Dahyun asked panicked while throwing herself in front of the suitcase and unpacking it again.

“I’m tired of only playing a secondary role in your life Dahyun!”

You yelled frustrated before continuing to pack your clothes, but Dahyun stepped in front of you, blocking your way to the suitcase.

“You’re not only a secondary role in my life. I love you. And I’m sorry that I messed up, but it’s never going to happen again, I promise.”

Her voice cracked in the end, but you were too angry to accept any apology.

Therefore, you ripped your arms out of her grasp and stepped back. Dahyun was looking at you with pure fear in her eyes, but it was just too late now. You shook your head while grabbing the ring on your finger and pulling it off.

“You’ve had enough chances to change. It’s over, Dahyun.”

You responded cold as ice before throwing your wedding ring at your wife.

Dahyun motionlessly let the metal band bounce off her chest as she kept staring at you with wide eyes. Her skin was even paler than usual, and you hesitated a second before grabbing your stuff to leave, because you were really concerned about her. But then you decided to go through with your decision and made your way to the front door. Right when you wanted to grab the doorknob, however, arms wrapped around your body and prevented you from taking another step.

Dahyun’s trembling body pressed itself against yours from behind and she sobbed into your back.

“Please don’t leave me. I need you, Y/N. I can’t live without you.”

She pleaded, but you tried to wiggle your way out of her grasp.

“Let go of me, Dahyun! Your words mean nothing without any actions.”

You demanded but your wife’s embrace only tightened around your waist.

“I’m going to terminate my contract. I’ll call my company right now.”

She suddenly said with determination in her voice, but you only huffed tiredly in response.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I need to proof to you that you are the leading role in my life.”

Dahyun’s arms loosened around your body and you turned around to be able to look at her. Her cheeks were still tear stained, but her eyes were suddenly serious and determined.

Slowly she held her hand out, waiting for you to take it. Fear flickered in her eyes again and uncertainty tore your heart in two. Should you stay or should you go?

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung knew that her behavior was wrong. But she couldn’t help it. She hated conflicts. So whenever the two of you were remotely close to fighting, she found a way to avoid it. Therefore, a lot of unresolved conflicts had been piling up over time and now it seemed like your frustration had finally reached its limit.

The two of you had had dinner with your parents and Chaeyoung had said something stupidyou’re your father ended up being upset. You wanted to talk with her about it in the car on the way back home, but like always she had blocked your attempts. Normally, the event wouldn’t have been big enough to start a fight, but an unlucky combination of factors had led to you now standing in front of her, desperately trying to get some kind of reaction out of her.

But instead of defending herself, Chaeyoung just sat in front of you and let you yell at her. If she couldn’t avoid a fight, she would just let it blow over. You, however, couldn’t take her passiveness any longer and suddenly reached to your ring finger. Chaeyoung looked at you with wide eyes, trying to stop you, but it was too late. You slipped the ringer off your finger and threw it at her.

“Seriously Chaeyoung, I don’t even know where to start! There’s so much wrong with us.”

You yelled before grabbing your purse and keys and leaving the house.

Speechless, Chaeyoung stood behind you and watched you disappear through the front door. As it slammed shut, she jumped in surprise and tears sprung to her eyes. Why couldn’t she have said something to stop you? Or really anything at all.

Disappointed in herself and heartbroken, Chaeyoung slumped down on the couch and let her tears stream freely. Loud sobs left her mouth, causing her to roll up in a ball to stop her body from trembling.

Throughout the whole night, she kept laying there without closing her eyes for a second, in hopes that you would return eventually. The sun had long risen, however, till you finally walked through the door again. Chaeyoung immediately leaped to her feet and into your arms.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I swear I’ll talk to you from now on. Just don’t go.”

She sobbed into your shoulder while you tried to push her away.

“It’s too late now. There are so many unspoken things between us already.”

You responded and tried to shake her off to be able to walk further into the house.

But Chaeyoung only held on to you tighter and closed her eyes in hopes that all of this was just a bad dream.

“No. We can do it. We can talk all day. Please. If you think, we’re not worth saving after today, it’s ok. You can leave. But please give us a last chance.”

She begged you while still pressing her body against yours, too afraid that you might disappear if she let go.

“Fine, we can talk and I’ll decide afterwards, if I’ll stay.”

You sighed, causing Chaeyoung to sob in relief.

Slowly she let go of you, ready to grab you again though if you decided to run away. Together you sat down on the couch while Chaeyoung sat as close as possible next to you in need of feeling the comfort of your body.

“Do you want me to start?”

She asked insecurely, knowing that this afternoon would decide the fate of her happiness.

Tzuyu

You looked at your wife on the screen and chuckled to yourself, because this situation was so tragic that it was almost funny again. You were watching a video of her that Twice had posted on their channel and it was the first time in a while that you saw your wife for 10 minutes straight.

The last months, while Twice was on tour, you either just received a short text message from her, indicating that she was still alive, or she managed to squeeze in a 1-minute phone call to talk with you. You knew it wasn’t her fault and that she was trying, but it hurt, nevertheless.

Softly you stroked over her face on the phone screen, being reminded of how much you missed her. You had thought that you were able to live a life apart from your wife, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. It was killing you to go to bed alone every night and wake up the next morning facing nothing but air.

You locked your phone, thinking that maybe it was time to end the torture for both of you. Neither of you were able to ignore the pain of the other and every day you knew that Tzuyu’s bad conscious grew.

This weekend your wife would come home for a quick stopover before continuing their tour in South Asia. It would be hard for both of you, but you decided that it was best if you freed her of at least one burden.

It was already late evening when Tzuyu finally came home. The moment she saw you standing in the entrance, she let all of her bags fall to the floor and crashed into your body. You pressed her tightly against you, savoring the last seconds that you would be allowed to hold her like this. When Tzuyu pulled back, she wanted to kiss you, but immediately realized your pained expression.

“What’s wrong jagi?”

She asked concerned and you pulled her into the house to be able to talk with her about your decision.

After you had sat down, Tzuyu looked at you expectantly, ready to give you everything you needed in order to see you smile again. Little did she know that you were about to break both of your hearts.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You almost whispered, but Tzuyu had heard you, causing her face to fall.

“W-what do you mean?”

She stuttered perplexed although you were sure that she knew what you were referring to.

“This.”

You pointed between the two of you while avoiding your wife’s gaze.

“Why? Is it because we didn’t talk that much lately? I can change that, Y/N. I-I can ask the managers for more breaks. I can come home between concerts. I can...”

Tzuyu’s voice cracked as tears rolled down her cheeks and you laid your hand on her knee to stop her rambling.

“It’s ok Tzuyu. This is not your fault. But I don’t want to burden you even more. Being an idol is your dream. And maybe we could have worked if we had met later. But now your happiness is more important, and I know you’re not happy if you have to constantly worry about not being a good wife.”

You tried to calm her, but slowly your own feelings made it impossible to talk without your voice cracking.

“No, Y/N. Please don’t do this.”

Tzuyu sobbed and it was hard for you to see her this way.

Normally she was the calm and collected one in your relationship. But for once you needed to be the reasonable one. Even if you hated it. You hated that JYP didn’t give your wife enough breaks to build a life outside of work; that they drained her to the point that having a private life was a burden.

Anger started bubbling inside of you, although it was not directed towards your wife, but towards the circumstances that led you to your decision.

Nevertheless, this breakup was inevitable. Therefore, you leaped to your feet and ripped your wedding ring off your finger. Frustrated you threw it at Tzuyu, because you wished that the two of you could have ended up differently.

“I’m sorry.”

You apologized before turning on your heel to rush out of the house.

Tzuyu kept sitting on the couch while staring at the ring that was laying in her palm. Engraved were her name and your wedding day. Tears dripped on her hand as she remembered how happy the two of you had been. She had promised you to always be by your side. To be your sunshine even on your saddest day. But now she had ended up being the one to break your heart. A violent sob rippled through Tzuyu’s body, knowing that she hadn’t been enough for you. She hoped that you would find someone that gave you all their time and treated you like you deserved to.

She hoped that you would find someone better than herself.

#twice reactions #twice #girl group reactions #girl group #kpop reactions #kpop #girl group imagines #twice imagines #nayeon #jeongyeon #momo #sana #jihyo #mina #dahyun #chaeyoung #tzuyu

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kinglazrus · 5 years ago

Text

What You’ve Become

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @kiinotasha: Jazz and Danny swap ages, she is the younger sibling he is the older one. All the other kids have their ages changed accordingly. (Those in Danny’s year would still be in his year)

Summary: Two years after the first ghost appears in Amity Park, Jazz Fenton sees a face she never thought she'd see again.

Word count: 12726

Jazz keeps her head down as she checks out her book. She usually avoid the public library if she can, but there are only so many psychology papers you can read online before you hit a paywall. All the good ones are locked tight on websites made for scholars, not high schoolers. The one downside of devouring ever psych text she can get her hands on for two years running is that, at a certain point, she has to leave the house to do it.

When she started at Casper High just a few months ago, she went to their library. It offered her privacy from all the prying eyes and hushed whispers, since most students didn't like spending time under the librarian's eagle eyes. But the school's selection was rather... lacking, which forced Jazz to seek out other avenues. Namely, the public library. Which shouldn't be so daunting, because she loves books and this building used to be her home away from home.

But that was two years ago. Now, when she goes to the library, it's no longer a safe haven. Now, when she walks through its doors, people see her and stare. That's the problem with Amity Park. It isn't a small town, but it's not a big city either. Everyone knows someone who knows someone else who knows you.

Which means everyone knows poor Jasmine, the last Fenton in Amity Park.

As she passes her library card over to the clerk, she catches their grim, pitying smile and quickly looks away. She fixes her gaze on the counter for the rest of the transaction. The second it's over, she takes her library card and the textbook and flees. She can feel the librarian's stare burning into her back as she leaves the building. It's hard to ignore. Marching across the parking lot, she heads for an old green Volvo, yanking open the passenger door when she reaches it. She throws herself into the seat and slams the door shut.

"Didn't have the book you wanted?" her best friend, Spike, asks from the back of the car. He doesn't look at her, instead focusing on the soles of his platform boots, picking mud out of the grooves.

Jazz slams the book down on the console.

Spike's gaze jumps up at the noise. "Oh," he says, eyes falling on the book. His expression, a default disaffected scowl, doesn't change, but he starts toying with his eyebrow ring, spinning it around. It's a subtle Jazz has become well accustomed to over the past two years.

"Fuck 'em," Spike says. He slouches forward, dropping his hand into his lap, and raises his middle finger in the library's direction.

"That would be an unsanitary and highly inappropriate response," Tucker quips from the driver's seat, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

Jazz wrinkles her nose. "Please never say anything like that again."

"No promises." He cackles at Jazz's expression. When he looks over his shoulder to start backing out, he catches Spike's deepening scowl, and grins even wider. "Sorry, kid, I got a goth best friend, too. That kind of look doesn't work on me."

"I told you to stop calling me that," Spike says.

Tucker hums, pretending to think deeply, and bares his teeth in a teasing smile. "Nah."

"You know, he had a goth phase," Jazz whispers.

"We don't talk about that!"

Jazz keeps talking about it. She eagerly regales Spike with the time she walked into the bathroom and found Danny painstakingly doing Tucker's eyeliner. She's halfway through Tucker's first disastrous attempt at wearing platform boots when a droning alarm goes off, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Turning away from the back seat, she leans her head against her window and tips her head back, peering up at a white and black siren hanging off a streetlight.

"Aw, man." Tucker sighs and turns his blinker on, pulling over to the side of the road. The car in front of them does the same, along with a truck passing on the other side of the road. None of them can pull all the way over, because of the vehicles parked parallel up and down the street, but there's a sizeable gap right down the middle of the road.

"Think we'll see some action?" Spike asks.

"I bet it's just that box dude or something," Tucker says as he rolls down his window.

Jazz slaps her hands over her ears as the siren gets louder and elbows Tucker's shoulder. "Close the window!" she shouts.

He doesn't have to. A second later, the siren cuts out. All three passengers strain their ears, listening for any sounds of fighting. It's completely silent.

"False alarm?" Jazz suggests.

"The Guys in White don't do false alarms. Could be the box guy," Tucker says. He hoists himself halfway out the window, slapping his arm down on top of the car to keep himself balanced, and waves at the truck across from them.

The driver rolls down the window.

"Hey! My radio's busted, is there any broadcast going out right now?" Tucker calls.

The driver looks down, fiddling with something, then looks back up and shakes his head.

"Thanks!"

"See? False alarm," Jazz says. "Get back in the car."

"Jazz, you are way too young to be sounding like my mother," Tucker says, ignoring her request. He looks up and down the street, head swiveling as he scans the skies. Completely empty. "Okay, maybe you're right."

No sooner have the words left his mouth than a green blur goes shooting past, flying so fast the car rocks. Tucker yelps, losing his grip on the car, and would have toppled out the window if Jazz and Spike hadn't lunged forward to catch him. Tucker chokes as Jazz grabs the back of his shirt, his collar cutting against his windpipe. Spike snags Tucker's belt. Together, they haul the older boy back into the car.

"Okay!" Tucker says, rubbing his throat and coughing a few times. "Not the box dude!"

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he glares out his window to the truck across from them. "'No broadcast' my ass."

"You should just get the Ghost Watch app," Jazz says, already pulling out her phone. She flicks through the apps until she finds one whose icon features a ghost holding binoculars.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that. The government can already spy on my through my phone, I'm gonna make it worse by downloading one of their apps," Tucker sneers.

"If they're already watching, then why does it matter?" Spike asks.

Tucker takes a breath, then pauses. "Huh," he says.

While he struggles to come up with an answer, Jazz opens the Ghost Watch app. Sure enough, as soon as it loads, she's met with a red exclamation point. Tapping the icon, she turns her volume up and holds her phone out.

"–class four entity. Agents have been dispatched to take care of the threat. Phantom protocol is in place. Please remain in your homes or vehicles or you will face criminal charges for interfering with a G.I.W. Operation. Thank you. Attention Amity Park. We are under threat by a class four entity. Agents have been dispatched–"

Jazz mutes the broadcast and raises and eyebrow in Tucker's direction.

"Shut up," he says. "You're the one who thought it was a false alarm."

"You're the one who can't afford to fix his radio," Spike points out.

"Well, maybe, I should start charging you since I'm apparently turning into your chauffeur. I'm sure your moms would be so happy to know your abusing my kind heart."

"Sounds fake."

"Boys, stop it," Jazz snaps. "Let's just wait for this to be over so we can go home, okay?"

Spike and Tucker share a look and nod in unison.

With an annoyed huff, Jazz pulls her new textbook into her lap and cracks it open. She might as well read to pass time, there's no telling how long this will take. Sometimes the G.I.W. have the situation under control in minutes, other times the city's on lockdown for hours. Hopefully, with the Phantom protocol in effect, it'll be a short wait.

Jazz closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Don't think about it, she tells herself. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

"Jazz, if this is about–"

"Let me stop you right there, Tucker," Jazz says. She stares resolutely down at her book, refusing to lift her gaze. "It's not about anything. I just want to go home, okay?"

"Okay," Tucker says. She can tell he doesn't believe her. That's fine, as long as he lets it drop.

—

Danny was dead. Or he was dying. Jazz didn't know which and she didn't know how to help. She was frozen at the bottom of the stairs, every inch of her trembling, too shocked—too scared—to do anything.

Her big brother was slumped in his best friend's arms, skin blistered and bleeding. His right hand was smoking, the sleeve of his jumpsuit burnt away. A strange green substance oozed out of him, staining Tucker's sweater. He was dead. He had to be dead.

"Danny! Danny!" Tucker shouted desperately, slowly lowering Danny to the floor. He leaned over Danny's prone form, hands hovering just above his blistered body. "Shit, shit, Danny, no. Sam, what do we do?"

Jazz's gaze jumped from her brother—her burnt, broken, probably dead brother—to Sam. She had collapsed on her knees a few feet away, pressing a hand to her mouth, eyes wide and horrified. She looked like she was about to throw up, or pass out, or both.

"I–I–" Sam stuttered. It was all she managed before she turned to the side and retched all over the lab floor.

Jazz finally regained control of her limbs then. Seeing Tucker and Sam, who were older and supposed to be smarter, lost and panicking spurred her to move. She rushed across the lab, her socks slipping on the smooth tiles, and almost slid right into Sam.

"Sam, Sam, where's your phone?" Jazz asked. She couldn't believe how steady her voice sounded. Inside, she panicked. Inside, she screamed that her brother was dead, and she was scared, and why weren't their parents home, why was the portal that wasn't supposed to work suddenly on, glowing so brightly it hurt her eyes? Why, why, why?

"Sam!" Jazz shrieked when the older girl didn't respond.

Sam flinched, spitting on the floor and wiping her mouth on her arm, and turned to Jazz. "Jazz," she said. Her dark eyes flickered over to Danny, then back at Jazz, and a fresh wave of horror filled them. "Go upstairs. You should go upstairs."

"Your phone!" Jazz pleaded. She didn't have the patience to wait, instead reaching into Sam's pocket herself and snatching her phone. Jazz backed away and dialled.

"911, what's your emergency?" a smooth voice answered.

"My brother was in an accident. He's hurt, really badly, and I– I don't know if he's breathing," Jazz said.

At her words, Tucker lowered his head to Danny's chest. Everyone held still, afraid to move or even breathe. Jazz could hear the operator saying something, but his words fell on deaf ears as she waited, anxious, for Tucker to say something.

"Fuck," Tucker said. He shot upright, hands hovering over Danny's chest, then pulled back. "Sam! I don't know CPR, do you know CPR?"

Sam scrambled toward Danny, her knees slipping in his blood—why was there so much blood? She shoved Tucker aside and straddled Danny's waist, kneeling over him, and started chest compressions.

Tears welled in Jazz's eyes. She sobbed and turned away.

"Are you alright? Please answer me. I need your location to send an ambulance."

"He, he's not breathing, and his, his heart's not beating," Jazz said. She hiccupped and squeezed her eyes shut, but that didn't help. She could still hear Sam panting heavily as she tried to keep Danny's heart beating. "His friend is doing CPR."

"Okay, that's good. What's your name? How old are you?"

"I'm Jazz Fenton, I'm twelve years old. My brother is Danny, he's sixteen. We're at Fenton Works at the corner of Cordia and Lennex," Jazz recited. It was oddly calming. Nothing more than simple rote memory, but it helped. It would help Danny.

"Fentons."

"Yes?"

The line was silent. Jazz bit her lip, wondering if the operator hung up, which would be incredibly unprofessional and also probably send her into a panic. She was certain the only reason she hadn't fallen to her knees in tears right then was that, as long as she was on the phone, she was helping. She had something to do. She was making sure Danny would be okay because he was going to be okay, he had to be.

A quiet huff caught Jazz's attention. She clung to the phone with both hands, pressing it against her ears, and barely heard the operator mutter, "Of course," on the other side of the line.

Jazz didn't want to be on the phone anymore.

"An ambulance is on the way," the operator said, louder. "Stay calm until then. Is there anyone else home with you? Your parents?"

"No. Thank you, goodbye."

—

"Please stay calm and remain in your vehicle. The threat will be dealt with shortly. Please stay calm and remain in your vehicle. The threat will be dealt with shortly. Please stay calm and–"

"I hate that voice. So. Much," Spike says, glaring at the siren.

Jazz can't blame him. The siren started spewing the city-wide warning almost five minutes ago and hasn't stopped since. There hasn't been another sign of the ghost, or any G.I.W. for that matter. It doesn't exactly mean much, because they could be anywhere in the city, but it makes the so-called safety protocols seem highly unnecessary. Besides, wouldn't they be safer in a building rather than as sitting ducks in the middle of the road?

The guy in the truck must have thought so, because he ditched his vehicle almost a full minute ago and disappeared inside a bar up the street. Jazz thinks he had the right idea, minus the bar part. It's always better to be somewhere you're comfortable during an emergency, even if it only provides slight relief.

"We could just, you know, drive home," Spike suggests.

"Great idea, until we get caught in the middle of a ghost fight," Tucker says. "Then your moms would kill me."

"No. The ghosts would kill you."

"Delightful."

"My moms would obliterate your ghost."

Tucker groans in distress, but Jazz can tell he's seriously considering Spike's suggestion. He keeps lifting his hand off his leg, toward the keys, before letting it fall back to his knee. "Who thought having a ghost infested city would be so damn boring?" he asks.

"You mean you don't enjoy sharing this plane of existence with pale shades of people long dead, forced to stay on this Earth by their own anguish and tumultuous emotions?" Spike asks.

"No. No, I don't."

"I do."

"Of course, you would."

Jazz ignores the boys, flipping to the next page in her textbook. It's a fairly new branch of psychology, focused on ghosts and their mental processes. Its surprisingly thorough. A stamp on the first page marks it as a G.I.W. endorsed text. It makes her wonder how many of the ghosts they catch become study subjects. With how comprehensive the textbook is, they must have been observing ghosts for a long time.

Unbidden thoughts of the Phantom leap to the front of Jazz's mind. Her grip on the textbook tightens, nails digging into the cover.

"Okay, I'm getting out," Spike says, breaking Jazz out of her thoughts.

"No, you aren't," Tucker says.

"Yeah, I am." Spike pulls on his door handle and starts pushing the door open.

"Your arrest record," Tucker says, rolling his eyes. Halfway through the motion, he freezes. "Actually, no, get back in the car."

"Asking nicely won't make me."

"Spike! Get back in the damn car!" Tucker shouts. The alarm in his voice makes Jazz look up from her book. The next second, the street beside them explodes in a shower of concrete.

"Shit!" Spike ducks, narrowly missing being brained by a fist-sized rock. In his panic, he dives to the side rather than back inside the car.

"Seriously!" Tucker shouts. He throws his door open and leaps out, Jazz following suit on her side of the car. She squints, covering her mouth with her arm, trying to keep the dust out. As Tucker goes for Spike, Jazz watches the middle of the road. She sees something moving in the cloud of dust.

The sound of a roaring engine draws Jazz's attention to the corner of the block, just in time to see a bulky armoured truck rip around the corner. On top of the cab, a row of bright green lights flash as the truck tears down the street. It comes to a stop fifty metres from the crater. The cab doors are thrown open by two bald men in white suits. They jump out onto the road, raising sleek white and blue guns that look out of place outside a sci-fi filmset.

One of them, the taller of the two, sees Jazz and calls down the road, "Return to your vehicle or face the charges."

"But my friend!" Jazz calls back. She looks to where Spike had fallen and finds the road empty. Panic shoots through her, until she hears someone clearing their throat and drops her gaze to the sidewalk.

Tucker and Spike are huddled behind the next car down, out of sight of the G.I.W.

"Return to your vehicle, now!" the agent demands again.

Jazz obeys. As soon as she's inside with the door shut, she climbs over the console into the front seat. The cloud of dust in the middle of the street is almost gone now, the silhouette of whoever—or whatever—is inside more defined.

It looks like a regular person, but with sharper angles. A sharp chin, broad shoulders, wide chest. Before the dust can settle complete, the ghost shoots forward, too fast to see, and slams into the G.I.W. truck, the front of cab crumpling in It goes skidding across the road, tires squealing, leaving thick black lines in their wake.

It's still sliding when the ghost zooms back and slams into it again, this time from the side. The sidewall caves and the truck tips onto its side.

"Damn it, the asset!" the shorter agent shouts.

Both men open fire, but every shot misses, the ghost flying too fast for them to catch. The shorter agent curses again and grabs something from inside their suit, tossing it on the ground. The object, a small cube, hits the ground and an antenna pops out of the top. A ping, not unlike a sonar pulse, songs from the cube and a wave of blue energy cascades outwards.

When it hits the ghost's blurred form, the ghost goes flying. Jazz shouts in surprise and ducks as it soars toward her. There's a loud crash, but Tucker's car does little more than shake. Lifting her head, she sees the ghost has hit the car behind her. Her heart leaps into her throat as she searches for Tucker and Spike amongst the wreckage.

It takes her a few seconds to fine them, but they're safe and sounded, hiding in the shadows of a convenience store doorway. The sign on the door says closed, and it must be locked, so they can't slip inside out of danger, but they're hidden at least.

The crumpled car creaks. Jazz's gaze jumps back to it and she gets her first good look at the ghost. It doesn't look like any of the ghost's she's ever glimpsed. Rather than an animalistic, amorphous form, it looks like a large mechanical man. With green fire for a mullet and goatee, apparently.

"Surrender, ghost!" the taller agent yells.

"Release him!" the ghost demands in a deep, layered voice.

The G.I.W. share a look.

"Agent O," the short one says. "Release the asset."

The mechanical ghost grins. But, judging by Agent O's grim but eager expression, the ghost isn't going to like what happens. Agent O holds their wrist out and presses a button on their watch. A heavy clunk reaches Jazz's ears. Everyone's focus snaps to the overturned truck as the back door slides open. A thin blue shield wavers over the open door before snapping away.

Jazz peers into the shadows of the covered truck bed. Slowly, a figure emerges. They float through the open door, body twisting to they don't brush the sides of the van, and hovers in the air.

It's the first time Jazz has ever seen the G.I.W. secret weapon, and the key component of the Phantom protocol: Phantom themselves. They wear a baggy white jumpsuit, the G.I.W. logo emblazoned across their chest in a slightly darker off-white. Not an inch of skin is visible, a mask clamped tightly over their lower face, round goggles covering their eyes, and a loose hood pulled over their head. They hold themselves awkwardly, arms raised in front of their chest, fingers curling toward their face. Thick cuffs bind their forearms together, forcing this strange pose upon them. Similar cuffs bind their ankles.

Their head turns slowly as they scan the street, the lenses of their goggles flaring. One is blue, the other green. They stop when they face Tucker's car.

Jazz's breath hitches. She presses one against the window, her other falling to the door handle. The ghost mimics her, spreading their fingers, although their palms are turned the wrong way.

She's never seen Phantom before. She's never seen their face. But she knows exactly what she would find under that mask. She pops the door open, lowering one foot to the pavement, ignoring the danger of the ghost to her left.

"Phantom!" Agent O snaps. He presses another button his watch. The cuffs on Phantom's legs fall to the found with a thud, cracking the pavement when they hit it. His arms stay bound. Another press, another button, and a collar around Phantom's neck, hidden by their pose, sparks dangerously.

Agent O points to the mechanical ghost. "Go hunt!"

—

Jazz waited out in the hallway, where her parents told her to be. She sat on a hard, plastic chair, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. It must have been freshly buffed, because when she leaned forward, she could see her reflection on the gleaming ceramic. The tiles were marbled white and pink, the colours blending together in milky swirls, and when she stared right at it, it looked like her face was covered in scars.

She lifted a hand and touched her cheek, almost expecting to feel puckered, raised skin where the marbled pink cuts across her pale face. She wondered if Danny would have scars.

"Jazzypants?"

Her head snapped up and she was surprised to see Jack, her father, standing before her. A burly man who took up nearly half the hallway, he didn't exactly have the lightest steps, but she didn't even notice him arrive. He crouched so they were eye to eye, hunching his shoulders to take up as little space as possible, and touched her hand.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Jazz glanced to the side, toward the closed double doors with the words "STAFF ONLY" plastered across them in big, bold letters. "I'm fine. Is Danny okay?" she asked.

"He's okay," Jack said. He smiled and squeezed her hand. "The doctors are still working on him, but they said he's gonna be fine."

Jazz didn't match Jack's smile. She tried, but it felt weak and flimsy, and she let it fall away. "Okay," she said quietly.

Jack's smile tightened. "Listen, there's someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Because of what happened. Danny's gonna be okay, but he got really hurt, and that made some people worry. So, they want to talk to you, so they know they don't have to worry."

Jazz frowned. "You don't have to talk like that. I'm not eight. Who are they?"

Jack laughed, but it was soft and humorless. "Right, you've always been so grown up. Are you okay to talk to them?"

"Yeah." Jazz nodded and pushed off her chair, standing up. She barely reached Jack's elbow.

With his hand on her back, Jack guided her out of the waiting room. They turned down a quiet hallway, farther from the hospital's entrance, and headed toward a bench set into an. It was small and private. A woman in a blazer and slacks waited there, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap.

The woman's hair was tied back in a ponytail, smooth against her head, but cascading into a waterfall of dark curls at the nape of her neck. Jazz touched her own hair, red and pin straight. She always wanted curly hair like that, especially after seeing pictures of her mother in college.

Jack cleared his throat as they approached. The woman looked up. She smiled warmly at Jazz, scooting down the bench as if to make room, even though it was a fairly large bench and there was lots of space. Jazz sat down on the very end, as far from the woman as she could get.

"Thank you, Mr. Fenton. I know you may want to stay, but this needs to be a private conversation, so I know you aren't influencing anything she says," the woman said.

"Right," Jack said. He gave Jazz one last pat, then turned and lumbered down the hallway.

"Hello, Jasmine," the woman said, drawing Jazz's attention back. "I'm Jamila Faizan. You can call my Jamila. I'm a social worker. Do you know what that is?"

Jazz nodded, eyeing the woman warily. She had nothing against social workers, but she heard people threaten her parents with them before. It made her uncomfortable.

"I just want to ask you a few questions about what life is like at home, okay?" Jamila asked.

"It's fine."

Jamila smiled. "Of course. It might seem that way, but your brother got really hurt in your parent's lab, and I need to make sure something like that doesn’t happen again. I just want to make sure you're safe at home."

Jazz bit her lip. She knew her home life wasn't exactly normal. How many twelve-year-olds had a lab in their basement? But they had good parents, and this was the first time anything like this had ever happened.

"How often do you go into your parents' lab?" Jamila asked.

"Not a lot. I don't like it down there that much, it's really cold."

"Do you parents ever bring you down there?"

"Sometimes, if they want to show us something interesting."

"Okay. Are you allowed down there any time?"

Jazz shifted in her seat, tucking her hands between her knees to keep from fidgeting. "Mom or dad has to be with us if we go down there," she said. She quickly added, "But I don't want to go down there, anyway, unless they want to show us something. So it's okay."

Jamila hummed. "How are you at school?"

"Good. I get all A's," Jazz said, a little thrown by the topic change.

"And your brother?"

"He doesn't really like school. I don't think it's a good learning environment for him, so he doesn't really get good grades."

"And you're happy?"

"Yes." Jazz narrowed her eyes at Jamila. "Are you trying to take us away?"

"I'm only trying to make sure you're safe, healthy, and happy," Jamila said.

"I will be once I know my brother's okay."

"I've been told he's going to pull through just fine," Jamila said, giving Jazz a placating smile.

"Then, then I don't see what the problem is. He's okay, I'm okay. It was just an accident. So, I'm going back to my parents, where I will be safe, healthy, and happy, okay? Okay." Jazz got up and walked away before Jamila could say anything else. It wasn't like the social worker could stop her.

—

The asphalt beneath Phantom cracks as they shoot through the air toward the ghost.

"Phantom, wait!" the ghost protests, holding up his hands. He jumps into the air, arcing over Phantom. A gun pops out of his shoulder and fires a green net. The net snaps out, heading right for Phantom.

Jazz doesn't even know how to begin describing what Phantom's body does to dodge the net. Only their arms and head stay solid, the rest of their body twisting, and morphing, and stretching so the next passes harmlessly through them. Their torso and legs snap back into existence as if they hadn't just melted into an amorphous cloud and Phantom continues unhindered. They slam into the mechanical ghost, wrapping one leg around the ghost's arm, the other around their neck.

Electricity crackles up Phantom's spine and shocks the ghost, making the whole suit go slack. Phantom drives the ghost into the ground, crouching over him. A low moan builds in their throat.

Jazz automatically covers her ears. She may have never seen Phantom in action before, but she's definitely heard their signature attack. And had to deal with the damage it leaves behind.

Just before the wail reaches its glass-shattering, tree-tearing, foundation-shaking crescendo, the mechanical ghost shouts, "Sorry!" and launches a mini-rocket out of his arm. It hits Phantom and explodes, blasting them straight across the street.

Jazz winces when they collide with the sidewalk, a sharp crack echoing down the street.

"Stop fighting!" The mechanical ghost holds up their hands as Phantom peels themselves off the crumbled sidewalk. "It's me, Skulker!"

Phantom answers by smacking something on the side of their mask. Green fumes start pouring out the front. Reaching up, their fingers curl around their collar, yanking it down as far as it'll go, and they thrust their head forward. Ectoplasm spews from the mast. It roars outward, a mesmerizing mix of gas and flames that seeps into the air.

As Phantom leaps forward, the ectoplasm pours over a nearby mailbox. The ectoplasm turns liquid the second it touches the mailbox, coating it in a thick slime, melting through the metal. Watching the metal bubble and ooze, Jazz swallows nervously.

She's reminded quite suddenly that Phantom is a tool for the G.I.W. The supreme weapon. The thing they throw at every passing threat. Thinking back to her textbook, she wonders how much of that information was garnered from Phantom. They would certainly make an impressive specimen, not that Jazz wants to think of them like that. But it's undeniable.

The way they move is otherworldly.

Every time Skulker dodges, Phantom's head snaps toward him, lightning fast, as ectoplasm spits from their mask. They mutate their body into grotesque shapes at a moment's notice, deforming and contorting as needed. It's hard to watch them. Not just because of the brutal display, with Skulker's protests falling on deaf ears, but because their body can't seem to settle. It's constantly moving, blurring, flickering. The only time they look completely solid is when their whole body crackles and electricity arcs off them.

Phantom's ectoplasm spews over Skulker's arm. Skulker yelps, forced to flee, and tries to shake off both the acidic sludge and his feral tail.

And Phantom really is feral. They follow, relentless, remorseless, moving like a wild animal prowling after its prey. Every attack is a pounce, a noxious cloud of ectoplasm following their every move. It's both mesmerizing and horrifying. The only word Jazz can use to properly describe them is monster.

—

Two hours after speaking with Jamila, Danny was out of surgery. Jazz was on her own when a nurse came over to deliver the news. Her parents were off with the social worker, had been for some time. The nurse was hesitant to give Jazz the news on her own, but she bullied the man with tear-filled eyes until he caved in.

Danny's surgery was a success. They fixed the rupture in his hear, stopped the bleeding, and now he was sleeping. He would be for a while because his body needed to heal, but once he woke up, he would be good as new.

The nurse waited with Jazz for her parents to return. When they came walking down the hallway, accompanied by Jamila, Jazz hopped out of her seat and ran forward to give them the good news. She faltered when she saw her parents' expressions.

Her mother's eyes were red from crying. Seeing that unsettled Jazz. She had never seen her mother cry before, and even if she didn't actually witness it now, knowing it happened threw her off balance. She knew parents cried too. They were regular people with all kinds of emotions; but, still, they weren't supposed to cry.

Jazz stopped at arm's length, watching them warily.

"Oh, sweetie." Maddie reached down and hugged Jazz.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"You're going to be staying with someone else for a little bit," she said.

Jazz pulled away. "Mom?"

"I'm sorry," Jamila interrupted, placing a hand on Jazz's shoulder. Jazz wanted to throw it off. "Maddie," Jamila continued.

"Please, call me Dr. Fenton," Jazz's mother said, a bitter smile cutting across her face.

"Dr. Fenton," Jamila amended coolly. "May I?"

Jazz felt helpless as Maddie stepped away, instantly missing her comforting presence. Jamila took her place, crouching down to Jazz's level.

"I really am sorry, but I can't let you return to Fenton Works until I know you'll really be safe there. I want you to go home with your parents, I really do, but I want to keep you out of danger more."

"I'm not in danger," Jazz insisted.

"Tonight's events prove otherwise. I was contacted by both the hospital and the dispatch operator you spoke to. It's only temporary. Until I'm sure your parents can take proper care of you. I've made arrangements with a foster home for now."

"Do you really have to do this?" Maddie asked.

"Mom," Jazz said. She reached out, searching for Maddie's hand, squeezing it until Maddie looked at her. "I'll be okay. It's just for now, right? You guys can set everything straight and then we can all go home together with Danny

"Oh, sweetie." Maddie pulled Jazz into another firm hug. "It's not right."

"But it's okay, isn't it? Ms. Faizan can do her work, and she'll see that, and everything will be fine by the time Danny wakes up." Jazz motioned for her father, who quickly joined the hug. It was tight, and warm, and Jazz never wanted to let go, but she had to after a few seconds.

Danny always went on and on about how grown up Jazz was, how she acted so much like an adult even though she was four years younger than him. If she was as mature as Danny always said, then she could do this. She could be grown up right now and be okay with all of this.

She could go with Jamila now, and later, she could go home with Danny.

—

The fight is taking too long. Despite dealing with ghosts for two years now, Jazz has never seen a real fight. If it's someone minor, a single agent is all it takes to swoop in and clean things up before anything bad happens. Mildly destructive ghosts require a few agents, who sometimes block off whole sections of the city, pushing citizens back until the problem is dealt with. Usually, this takes no more than half an hour, although the aftermath of the fight affects the city for days.

But when they send in Phantom, the fight ends before it really begins. Swift, effective, and destructive. Bringing in Phantom means bringing in the big guns.

But they're not so swift today. The minutes drag on, the ghosts caught in a stalemate. It takes Jazz far too long to notice the problem: Phantom is distracted. They keep pulling back at the last moment, holding off from delivering the finishing blow. She doesn't think it's to spare the ghost they're fighting. It's the result, but it's not the reason. Each attack aims to kill, up until the moment it doesn't.

Because Phantom's head keeps swivelling. Toward her. As soon as Jazz realizes this, she scrambles out of the car, ignoring the agents shouting at her to get back inside, and runs over to Tucker and Spike.

"What are you doing?" Tucker asks. His head jerks up and down as he looks between Jazz and the G.I.W. agents. He waves his arms emphatically at the short agent. "He's coming this way now!"

"I don't care. Tucker!" Jazz grabs Tucker by the front of his shirt and pulls him down. She shoves his head forward and points at Phantom. "Do you see it?"

Tucker's face twists in confusion, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his brow. "They're... looking at us.

"Yeah."

Phantom snarls, finally managing to get a hold on Skulker, and rips his arm out of the socket, tearing into the limb like a rabid animal. There's only wires inside, thank god.

Tucker pales. "I don't know about you, but... I don't think I want its attention."

"Tucker! He's not an it!" Jazz protests.

"Phantom is a ghost, Jazz. I'm sorry, I don't get what you're trying to say here," Tucker says.

"Don't you remember what I told you? What happened after you left?"

Tucker stares at her. A few seconds later, realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. Yeah! I do! Do you think–"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"I know. "

"Jazz, if it is, I don't think..." Tucker trails off. He gives Jazz a pointed look as Phantom screeches and dissolves into a black cloud, reforming behind Skulker. They swing their arms down on Skulker's head, smashing him into the ground.

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Spike asks. "All I see is a pissed off government goon heading our way."

"Phantom," Tucker and Jazz chorus. Jazz adds, "They keep looking over here."

She can't help the hope that swells in her chest. Two years. Two whole years since the ghosts came, since the G.I.W. took over, since it happened. Two years of stares and whispers behind her back.

Look at that girl, isn't it a shame what happened?

I heard they tried to shoot her too.

I bet he ran away because he couldn't stand to see her.

"So?"

"The hospital," Jazz stresses.

"Oh. Oh!" Spike glances at Jazz from the corner of his eye. "That's good, right? It means they're, you know?"

"He... if they are... if it is." Jazz fumbles over her words, but Tucker seems to understand. He gives her shoulder a reassuring pat.

He didn't run away, Jazz thinks. He didn't mean to leave her. She leans into Tucker, torn between crying out of grief or relief.

Spike taps Jazz's other shoulder. "Hey, this is super gross and touching and all, but we're fucked," he said with a jerk of his chin, motioning to the approaching agent.

—

The Miller family was nice enough. Max and Hannah treated her well. They had fostered their son, Spike, before adopting him when he was six. Jazz only saw him once her first day in the apartment, and he immediately reminded her of Sam, with his black clothes and dark makeup, but a little more punk thanks to his mohawk.

He left Jazz alone for the most part, which she was more thankful for than anything.

Max and Hannah told Jazz they would do their best for her, and that they hoped Danny would be okay, and they would give her whatever she needed to make it through this tough time. The way they talked annoyed Jazz a little. They weren't patronizing, but they acted like they knew exactly what she needed when they didn’t.

They thought she needed a soft bed, a good meal, and a comforting smile, but she really just needed her brother.

The first day at the Millers, Jazz occupied herself with her memoirs. She had been working on them the day of the accident, until the power cut out and Danny's scream filled the house, so loud it made her ears ache. She put in her headphones to drown out the residual scream in her head and got down to work.

Before... it happened, she had been writing down her significant childhood memories. The earliest ones weren't full memories, more like snatches of moments. Danny's soft hand in hers. A small hand rubbing her back after a nightmare. The glow of her star nightlight, which originally belonged to Danny, but he passed it on to her when he learned it made her sleep through the night better. She only learned this fact a few months ago, but it warmed her heart nonetheless.

The memories got stronger after that. Her first time seeing Santa, she was four, Danny was eight, and he took her across town on his own to the mall. Danny teaching her to ride a bike, because their parents were too busy in the lab. Danny making cupcakes for her birthday, because their parents were away at a convention. Danny helping her with her homework, even though he wasn't very good at it, but he still tried his best.

Jazz's pen paused. All her best memories had Danny in them. It wasn't that she had no good memories with her parents, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized they weren't really there as much as they thought they were.

"It's fine," she told herself. She pressed her pen into the page, intending to keep writing, but she couldn't stop thinking.

How many kids learned to cook at eight years old because their parents sometimes forgot to feed them? How many kids were more of a parent to their little sister than their actual parents? How many kids lived above a lab full of dangerous chemicals and volatile weaponry, and were told to clean said lab as part of their chores?

Jazz could think of at least one: Danny. Would things be the other way if she were older? Would she take Danny out on Christmas day so they didn't have to hear their parents fighting about a fat man in a red suit? Would she have been forced to grow up too fast?

She didn't want Danny to be her dad. She wanted her father to be her dad.

"Jazz?"

She jumped, hand shooting across the page, pen ripping the paper in half, tearing through her carefully penned memories and the photocopied photograph taped in the corner.

"Oh, shit, sorry. Was that important?" Spike asked. He held one of the house phones, pressing against his chest.

"Language," Jazz said softly, staring forlornly at the ruined page. The pages beneath were ruined, too, a heavy black line cutting across the first few.

"Weirdo," Spike said. "Anyway, Mom—that's Hannah—wanted me to tell you that social worker is coming on Friday so you can visit your brother."

Muffled noise comes from the phone, and Spike raises to his ear. He listened a moment, nodded, then lowered it again. "And she's sorry they can't take you sooner, but they work during visitor hours, and they don't want you walking through the city on your own," he recited.

"Why not?" Jazz asked.

Spike looked at her funny, cocking his head. "Because it isn't safe."

"Oh." Jazz would be perfectly fine with going on her own. She needed to see Danny with her own eyes, to make sure he was okay. The nurse said he was, but she had to see it for herself. She had to be certain.

Her second day with the Millers, she couldn't bring herself to work on her memoirs again, so she occupied herself with the collection of books in their office. A lot of it was literature, some classic, some poetry, some plays. Jazz gravitated toward the single shelf of textbooks, particularly the psychology. She didn't know much about the field, but something about understanding brains and how they worked fascinated her.

She stayed holed up in the office all day.

Her third day with the Millers was Friday. She waited for Jamila to pick her up and take her to the hospital. Jamila never showed up.

Her fourth day, she learned about the monster that attacked the mall, sending everyone into a panic. It glowed and couldn't be hurt by anything anyone threw at them, until Maddie and Jack showed up with the volatile weapons they made Danny clean and put the monster—ghost—down. All Jazz cared about was why no one was with Danny in case he woke up.

Her fifth day, Jazz thought, and thought, and didn't stop thinking until she couldn't stop thinking about why her parents didn't seem to care as much as they were supposed to.

On the sixth day, Jamila said she could finally see Danny tomorrow. For the first time in a week, it felt like everything would be alright.

—

Spike panics. Jazz knows he panics because he grabs her wrist and makes a break for it before the agent even reaches them.

"Spike!" Jazz stumbles, almost tripping, and tries to resist. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees the agent giving chase. Until Tucker surges after him and tackles his legs. They both go down.

Spike yanks on her arm, forcing Jazz to run faster, and drags her around the corner of the block.

"What was that?" Jazz asks. She grabs her hair. "Tucker's going to get arrested!"

"So were we! You heard what the emergency broadcast said. You know how many laws we're breaking being 'out of our vehicle?'" Spike shouts back. "All of them!"

"They aren't real laws!" And they aren't. They're a guideline of what to do in ghostly emergencies, and the G.I.W. treat every ghost like an emergency. Although, considering the destruction they had just run from, this was a real emergency.

"Funny, doesn't stop them from arresting people!"

Jazz rips her hand out of Spike's grip. "I can't leave them behind!"

Spike stops and turns. His scowl is softer, and he bites his lip, looking at Jazz with worry.

She glares back at him, refusing to move. "I can't."

"This isn't about Tucker, is it?" he asks. He doesn't need Jazz to answer. She doesn't need to give him one. He sighs, pressing a hand to his cheek, one finger spinning his eyebrow ring. After a long moment, he says, "Fine."

Jazz feels a wave of relief that has her grinning.

"Don't expect me to tackle a government agent for you, though. That's all Foley."

They turn back around, sprinting down the street. Overhead, Phantom and Skulker are still battling it out. Skulker's lagging, the plating of his suit warped and melted. The missing arm definitely doesn't help. But Phantom's not looking so good either. A few lucky shots from Skulker's plethora of hidden guns had left them burnt and bleeding.

Can it really be called bleeding? Ectoplasm, rather than blood, seeps out of Phantom's wounds, indistinguishable from the substance dripping from his mask. A wound on their torso slows them down the most, a large scorch mark stretching from the bottom of their ribcage, across their stomach, to their hip on the other side of their body.

Every time it looks like they're about to slow down, the collar on their neck sparks. Phantom hisses in pain each time and dives back into the hunt with renewed vigour.

Jazz forces herself to look away when Spike grabs her shoulder and pushes her behind the same crumpled car Skulker destroyed earlier. Pressing a finger to his lips, he motions her forward, and together they peer around the bumper and look down the street.

The agent has Tucker pinned on a nearby car. Straining her ears, Jazz can just barely hear what he's saying over the grunts and snarls of the fighting ghosts. "You're under arrest for assaulting a G.I.W. agent and interfering with a government operation."

"Come on, Mr. K, that's not cool," Tucker says.

"Agent K. And neither was assaulting me. G.I.W. operations are a matter of national security."

"It's a green blob in a metal suit, fucking chill!"

Agent K pulls out a pair of cuffs and slaps them on Tucker's wrists, keeping him pinned with a hand on his back. Agent K's focus drifts up toward the fight and scowls. Seeing his hesitance, Jazz realizes Agent K isn't going to move Tucker until the fight is done. Too much debris is flying everywhere and it's safer behind the cars than anywhere else. Agent O seems to have found cover, too, behind the overturned truck. He stands there with his gun lowered, hand poised over his watch.

Jazz looks back to Tucker. Neither he nor Agent K has noticed her and Spike yet. "Okay," she says. "I know what to do."

"No," Spike says.

"I haven't said anything yet."

"No. We're not tackling a G.I.W. agent."

Jazz gives him a pleading look, with wide eyes and a small pout.

"No, we're not tackling him!"

Jazz doesn't give him much of a choice. She charges, dashing out from behind the car.

"Son of a biiitch!" Spike shouts, sprinting past her. Agent K hears Spike and turns to face him, but none of his government training could prepare him for the pure shock value of a sickly looking punk goth kid charging at him at full speed. Spike barrels into the agent's chest, throwing him off Tucker and down to the sidewalk.

Jazz is about to throw herself on top of the pile when a loud crash and a panicked cry stops her.

"No, Phantom, no! It's me! Remember? Stop!"

She jerks back at the sound of Skulker's steadily rising voice and peeks over the car Tucker had been pinned against. Skulker lies on the ground in the middle of the road, Phantom hovering far above him. But something's off. Specifically, Skulker's head. It lies a foot away from his body, the eyes dull and expression completely blank.

"Please!"

Jazz's gaze snaps up to Phantom. In his hands, he holds something small and green, and Tucker's words come floating back to her: a blob in a metal suit. Phantom holds Skulker's real form inches from their face, clutched tightly in their hands.

"No!" Jazz cries, jumping out into the street. Everyone freezes, their heads swivelling toward her, and she falters.

"Jazz, what are you doing?" Tucker hisses.

She doesn't know. Phantom is a dangerous, powerful ghost. There's nothing she can actually do to make him stop. There's no real reason she should even try to stop him. In Amity Park, ghosts are like rabid wild animals. They come in, destroy stuff, and then they get put down. Jazz has never met someone who felt sorry for the ghosts.

But she had also never really met a ghost before. And she had never heard one scream and beg for its life as it tries to help the very thing that is going to kill it. She can't watch that. She can't just stand here and witness Phantom squeezing the life—the afterlife—out of this little ghost that says he wants to help.

Whoever this Skulker is, she can't let that happen.

Whoever Jazz suspects Phantom might be, she can't let them do it.

She can't tell if Phantom is looking at her, but she thinks they are. Even as Skulker wriggles and squirms, popping out of their grip, Phantom stays focused on her. A small smile touches Jazz's lips. In the corner of her eye, Skulker flies down to his suit, free to escape.

Jazz takes a step forward. A burly arm loops around her waist and hoists her off her feet, dragging her back.

"Hey! Stop!" Jazz squirms, feet kicking in the air, and throws her head back. She hits Agent K's chin, but he doesn't falter.

"Hey, calm down! It's not safe out here!" Agent K says, his arm tightening around her midsection.

Jazz gasps. "Let me go! You're hurting me!"

Agent K's hold immediately loosens. "Sorry. But what's with you kids, tackling people trying to help you?"

"Wait, what?" Jazz asks, confused.

Suddenly, white fills her vision. Jazz feels a burning, crackling heat, then she's falling, and Agent K her screams. She rolls on the ground, pushing herself up on her hands and knees, and looks over her shoulder.

Phantom has Agent K pinned against a convenience store window, arms pressed against his throat. Their body blurs as they move, leaning in closer. The glass cracks. With a great heave, the window shatters. Phantom sends Agent K flying through the store, flipping over rows of shelves. He crashes into a row of coolers at the back and falls to the floor.

Phantom spins around and faces Jazz. Up close, they look even more feral, ectoplasm dripping like saliva through a series of jagged slots in their mask. The lenses of their goggles are cracked, but the eyes behind them glow so brightly it hurts to look right at them.

Phantom's collar sizzles and they cry out as the shock courses through them. Turning away from Jazz, they lock onto Agent O and howls. Jazz blinks and Phantom is all the way cross the street, roaring in Agent O's face, immersing him in a haze of ectoplasm.

Agent O drops to the ground, clutching their throat.

"No," Jazz whispers, horrified.

Phantom turns back to her. They stumble forward. Jazz takes a step back. As if that's some signal, Phantom lunges toward her. Jazz screams and drops to the ground, crawling toward the sidewalk.

"Phantom, stand down!" Agent K shouts as he clambers out of the broken shop window His demand is met with a roar of ectoplasm that soars right over Jazz. She screams again, folding her arms over her head, but can't do anything against the blistering heat.

Jazz crawls faster, scrambling to her feet as soon as she's able. She heads for Tucker and Spike, both of them wearing cuffs now, but Phantom cuts in front of her. Backpedalling fast, her arms flail as she pivots and runs the other way.

A hazy mist surrounds Jazz and she shudders, a tingling chill passing through her. Phantom reforms in front of her, too close for her for her to stop in time. A green blast soaring over her shoulder saves her. It bursts against Phantom's chest and throws them back.

"Run!" Agent K shouts, training his gun oh Phantom.

Jazz doesn't question she order. She doesn't wait for Phantom to get back. She already knows they will. No matter what Agent K does, Phantom will come after her. She's their prey now.

—

Everything was not alright.

Monday night, Spike once again passed along the message that Jazz would be seeing her brother the next day, a full week after she'd seen him last. This time, Jamila actually showed up, apologizing for Wednesday, citing the chaos at the mall and the havoc it wreaked throughout the city in general. She brought with her the good news that Danny was awake, had been since Friday.

"I'm sorry no one informed you sooner. There were some complications at the hospital," Jamila had said.

Those foreboding words quelled Jazz's excitement but couldn't snuff it out completely. She would finally get to see for herself that Danny was fine. But when she got to the hospital, the nurse said she wasn't allowed to see him.

"Why not?" she asked.

"He's in for tests right now," the nurse said. She turned to Jamila and continued, as if Jazz wasn't there. "We contacted an expert. Apparently, this is something the government's dealt with before. I don't really understand it, but his parents will be seeing him soon, and Jasmine can see him after that."

That was how Jazz ended up in the waiting room, on her own, again. Jamila had gone off to find her parents and speak to them about Danny's situation, whatever that was. Everyone was treating her like she didn't need to know anything, but she was twelve! She was mature, and smart, and she could handle whatever they were keeping from her.

"It's not fair," she muttered.

"Damn right. Although I have no idea what you're actually talking about."

Jazz looked up and saw Tucker claiming the chair next to her. There was no blood on him, and for one wild moment, Jazz realized she expected to see some. It was the first time she'd seen him since the accident, and for some reason, she pictured him frozen in that moment back at the lab, clothes stained red and green.

"Uh, you good?" Tucker asked.

Jazz stared a moment longer, taking in his pale face. "Are you?"

"Ha, you caught me. I don't really like hospitals," Tucker said. He glanced around the room warily and slumped in his chair. "But I heard they were letting you see him today, so I thought. I don't know. Maybe I could sneak in."

"Who told you?"

"Spike."

Jazz blinked in surprise.

"His moms used to babysit me, and my mom watched Spike to return the favour sometimes. When I heard you were with the Millers, I kind of asked him to keep an eye on you for me," Tucker said, smiling sheepishly. "Got to make sure you're alright for Danny."

"Thanks, I guess," Jazz said. She peered closer at Tucker. More than pale, he looked tired, like he hadn't been sleeping, and it made her wonder. "What... what happened? In the lab."

Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. "It doesn't really matter."

"I think it does."

"What difference will it make?"

"Because then I'll know."

"That won't—"

"Tucker, please." Jazz wasn't mad. She didn't cry. She didn't beg. She just looked at Tucker, feeling helpless and lost.

"Sam thought it'd be cool to go inside," Tucker muttered.

"Oh." Danny would do anything Sam asked, whether she meant him to or not. Everyone knew it.

"Yeah," Tucker said.

"She hasn't come to see him, has she?"

"She feels guilty."

Jazz didn't know how to respond to that. A small part of her was mad at Sam, but at the same time Jazz knew it wasn't completely her fault.

Silence fell between her and Tucker as she sank into her thoughts. Jazz didn't know how it was with other siblings, but Danny's best friend had always been such a staple in her life that she didn't mind being alone with him. He was almost like a second big brother, although Danny would be the undisputed best.

Tucker stayed with her until Jamila returned. She wore a wary smile and gave Tucker a questioning glance.

"I'm Danny's friend," Tucker said, answering her unasked question.

"I see. I'm sorry, but I've been told only family can see him at this time. His should be seeing him now," Jamila said.

"You're not family."

"Due to the nature of the situation, I am his medical proxy."

It was amazing how Jamila could sum everything up without actually explaining anything useful. Jazz wanted to snap at her, but she held back. After all the thinking she had done about her parents, she was no longer certain how she felt about Jamila. Maybe the woman really did want to help.

"It's fine, Tucker. You can just get Spike to tell you all about my visit," Jazz said.

"Oh, that's cold," Tucker said. He pushed himself up and stretched his arms above his head, then let them flop back down at his sides. "I guess I can leave Danny in your capable hands. Give him hell for scaring us like that."

"That's the plan."

Jazz waited until Tucker was gone before turning to Jamila and motioning for her to lead the way. Soon, all her fretting would be over. She could confirm with her own eyes that Danny wasn't still bleeding out on the floor, and maybe even get one of his comforting smiles. Maybe he would even come with her to stay at the Millers until everything got sorted out with their parents. If it got sorted out.

Before they rounded the corner into Danny's hallway, Jamila took Jazz aside and spoke to her softly.

"Something happened on Friday that the doctors can't really explain," she started. "Your brother appears healthy, but he's... different. And I just want to prepare you for that."

Determined, Jazz nodded.

Jamila looked relieved, her wide brown eyes softening, and she smiled. "Okay. Let's go see your brother."

They turned the corner. Nothing happened. Which made sense, because it was just a hallway, and the door to Danny's room was further down. But Jazz was so tense that the brightly lit hospital hallway felt out of place. A long, foreboding corridor would have been more appropriate.

Hospital staff bustled about. A couple patients were stretching their legs. Some visitors had claimed benches that were interspersed along the hall, none of them too interesting. A woman in a pretty blue dress, a man in a white suit, two teenagers with watery eyes and red noses. Jazz wondered who they were all here for.

They were halfway down the hall when a door burst open and a nurse stuck his head out.

"Security!" he shouted.

"That's not my son!"

Jamila's arm curled around Jazz's shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. The way Jamila's hold on her tightened when a security guard went rushing by told her exactly who's room that was. Her fears were confirmed when Maddie and Jack backed out of the open door, herded toward the security guard by the nurse. Danny's door closed behind them.

Jazz twisted, breaking free of Jamila's grip, and ran toward her parents.

"Mom, what's going on? What's wrong?" she asked.

Maddie turned to Jazz and her face fell, tears welling in her eyes. She was barely holding it together "Oh, honey. Danny's... Danny's gone, sweetie."

"No." That wasn't right. Jamila just said Danny was fine. What could have happened in that short time? She refused to believe it.

"No!" she repeated, louder.

Maddie reached out to her. Jazz ducked under her arm, skipping out of reach. She glanced at Jamila, the nurse, the guard, checking to see if any of them would stop her. None of them moved.

"Stop, Jazz!" Jack shouted, taking a step forward.

The security guard stopped him, getting in Jack's way and holding out his arms. "Sir, I will remove you form the building," the guard said.

"Jasmine, do not go in there," Maddie said in a scolding, motherly tone

Jazz went in. She whipped the door open, spinning around and slamming it shut. There was no lock. A quick peek through the window confirmed the guard was still holding her parents back. Satisfied they weren’t going to barge in and drag her out of there, Jazz turned.

She froze. The person sitting on the bed had a familiar head of messy hair, but it faded to white half-way through. His eyes swirled blue and green, the colours constantly shifting, pushing against each other, battling for dominance. When he raised his hand and waved, his arm blurred, trailed by an afterimage.

Bandages crawl up his right arm, wrapping stiffly around his fingers, and winding all the way up to his shoulder, stopping just before the sleeve of his blue gown. She's only seen it once, but Jazz knows there's a gauze patch on his shoulder under that sleeve. A matching patch is plastered against his neck. Thin, spidery blisters creep along his jaw, but don't go much further than that.

His face is sallow, cheeks sunken, eyes looking bruised. The blood is gone. The green goo is gone.

"Jazz!" There was a slight echo to his voice. He beamed. "About time you got here. I was starting to think you didn't care."

There was no mistaking that smile or that teasing voice. Jazz ran forward and threw her arms around his waist, burying her head against his chest.

"Danny!" Jazz cried out, already tearing up. Because it was Danny. He looked different, and he felt different—cold—but it was him.

"You are not gonna believe what's on the other side of that portal, took a lot of work to get back here–"

"Get back?"

"–but here I am!" Danny threw up his arms, grinning even wider.

Jazz noticed his teeth looked a little sharper. "What happened?" she asked.

"Oh, man, you're not gonna believe it. So, the portal turns on, right? And then everything just goes all." Danny waved his hands around. "Hold on, wait, I had it before. Everything just goes all," he snapped his fingers and electricity crackled down his arm, "like that!"

Jazz jumped away from him, staring at his arm as the electricity fizzled out.

Danny's smile slipped. "Oh. You're scared too, aren't you? Mom and Dad... they didn't take it well either."

Jazz opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the door banged open. Startled, she whipped around and backed up until her hip bumped the side of Danny's bed. Maddie stood in the doorway, holding a silver and green gun. An ectogun, Jazz recalled. Her parents made them to fight ghosts, if they ever saw one.

"Jazz, get away from it!" Maddie said. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots.

"Mom," Jazz said.

"That's not Danny!"

"That's kind of rude," Danny muttered.

"Mom, what are you doing!" Jazz slid in front of Danny, holding out her arms the same way the security guard had.

The barrel of Maddie's gun dipped as she watched Jazz, disbelief written across her face. It looked like she was going to stop. To Jazz, it looked like Maddie was about to reconsider. Until Jazz felt Danny's hand on her shoulder. Maddie's disbelief was drowned out by a furious snarl fueled by grief and rage.

Everything happened so fast.

Danny shoved Jazz out of the way just before the bang. She tripped into a chair by his bed, smacking her head on the armrest. The world went fuzzy for a moment. There wa a shout, and a thump, and her mother started wearing. A stampede of feet come running.

When Jazz's vision cleared, she saw Maddie on the ground, pinned by the same security guard from before, reaching for her gun. No less than three new guards had Jack pinned out in the hallway. The nurse was speaking frantically into a phone. The man in the white suit tapped the nurse's shoulder, holding out his hand for the phone, jerking his chin toward the room. The nurse relinquished the phone without protest.

Jazz crawled backward, away from the chaos, and almost fell when her hand slipped on something warm and wet. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Danny on the floor, bleeding.

—

Jazz has been afraid many times in her life. When she was little, walking through the house in the dark. When she sat in the backseat of the RV while her father had the wheel. When she sat in the hospital, alone waiting to hear if Danny was alive or dead. When she realized he was gone from her life forever.

None of that compares to how she feels now. Her heart beats against her ribs, moments from bursting out of her chest. Her lungs burn and her throat feels tight and she struggles to breathe. Her senses narrow until all she can see is what's in front of her, all she can hear is Phantom inches behind her, all she can feel is the icy heat they give off, so cold it burns.

Jazz makes the mistake of looking back to check how close Phantom is. Practically nose to nose, the green and blue lenses of his goggles are all she sees. She shrieks and stumbles. Phantom reaches out to catch her, latching on to her hair, yanking her head back. She cries out again, tears springing to her eyes.

Phantom jerks away from her, releasing her hair, and raises their hands to their face. They start moaning. Jazz takes off, the ominous wail building behind her. Clapping her hands over her ears, she tries to shut it out. The distraught cry grows louder and louder until the ground shakes, and windows rattle, and a wave of green energy blasts Jazz off her feet.

She soars through the air, screaming, arms wrapping around her head. She hits the ground hard and curls into a ball. Phantoms wail tears into her, a painfully familiar cry of pain amplified a hundred times over, fueled by the power of ectoplasm.

Her ears ring long after it ends, so loud that she doesn’t even realize Phantom's stopped until she notices the ground isn't shaking anymore. She rolls onto her back and lifts her head. Phantom stumbles toward her, clutching their still-bleeding wounds. Gas pours from their mask, ectoplasm erupting from the slits every time they breathe.

Fear keeps her pinned. The only thing Jazz can do is weep, her heart slowly cracking as Phantom edges closer, vicious and unrelenting, not a single shred of humanity with them.

"Please stop!" Jazz wails. "This isn't you! Just stop. See me! Stop being so stupid!"

Phantom's breath rattles as they loom over her.

Jazz screams, "Danny!"

—

Jazz waited until two a.m. before slipping out of her hospital room. A nurse had given her slippers before final rounds, so she wasn't walking barefoot, but they made a loud slapping noise if she didn't walk carefully enough. She stuck close to the wall, one hand on the plastic rail that stretched down the length of the hallway.

Danny was only one room over, but it would only take a second for a nurse to walk around the corner, see Jazz up and about, and usher her back into her room. She slipped through Danny's door, quiet as possible, and tiptoed over to his bed. There was a new swathe of bandages on his left forearm, to go with his growling collection.

Maddie had missed hitting anything vital, but whatever was in her gun sent Danny into a seizure. The police came and took Jack and Maddie away after that, and Danny's doctor admitted Jazz with a concussion. She was only meant to be there one night, and she didn't want to spend it alone.

Grabbing one of the chairs, she dragged it toward Danny's bed, one inch at a time. It made a high-pitched squeak every time she pulled it forward. Nobody came barging in, despite the loud noise, and soon enough she had the fhair right where she wanted it.

She was about to sit down when Danny opened his eyes.

"You could have just picked it up," he said.

"You were awake! Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it was funny."

Jazz crossed her arms and turned her back to him.

"Aw, come on, I'm sorry. Turn around."

She did, albeit reluctantly, and found Danny had kicked the covers off and shuffled over to the edge of the bed.

"Come on," he said.

"I'm not eight."

"Congratulations. Come on."

Jazz rolled her eyes and climbed in. Using Danny's arm as a pillow, she settled next to him, just like when they were little and she used to come to him after having a bad dream. They would stare up at the stars on his ceiling while he pointed out constellations to her.

There were no stars to point out now but sitting next to him still brought comfort. Danny was all she ever had, and he was all she would ever need.

"Are we gonna be okay?" she asked.

"Totally." Jazz could hear Danny's smile in his weird, new, echoing voice. "I talked to Jamila earlier. She told me about the Millers."

"Are you coming there too?"

"Yeah. Jamila's already made the arrangements. You and me? We're gonna be okay as long as we're together." Danny wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You should head back to your room before someone finds you missing. I'll be right here if you need me."

Jazz nodded, sliding out of the bed. Danny gives her one last smile before she left. On the way back to her room, she paused. The hallway wasn't empty anymore. Someone stood at the very end of it, watching her. It was the man in the white suit.

Jazz waited to see if he would do something. He only stared. Breaking their little stand-off first, she lowered her head and slipped through her door, rushing over to her bed. Pulling the covers up over her head, she curled on her side. It didn't take her long to relax, though, Danny's last comforting words echoing in her head. She drifted off with a smile on her face, thinking of how much better things would be from here on out.

When Jazz woke up in the morning, Danny was gone.

—

Phantom's stopped.

Afraid to move, Jazz holds herself perfectly still for a few long seconds, but no attack comes. She opens her eyes and looks up.

Phantom looms over her, seething. Ectoplasm drips from their mask like toxic drool. Their breathing is ragged, shoulders rising and falling with each pant. They don't even have the strength to holds his arms up so the cuffs don't strain his elbows. Their whole body shakes.

A glob ectoplasm drops to the ground by Jazz's foot, a few specks splashing against her ankle. It burns. She flinches, scrambling back, but Phantom doesn't move. Warily, she pushes herself up onto her knees. When Phantom doesn't react, she gets on her feet, slowly rising out of a crouch. Phantom just stands there.

She should be running. She should take advantage of this reprieve and whatever caused it and get the hell out of there. Over Phantom's shoulder, she spies Spike, Tucker, and Agent K running down the street. They're waving their arms and yelling, probably telling her to get away while she can.

She moves closer to Phantom. Reaching out, she grabs their hood and pulls it down. Their hair is mostly white, but at the roots, there's the thinnest line of black. Now that she's close, she sees how the mask digs into his cheeks and goes for that next. It probably hurts.

It takes her a moment to find the locking mechanism. It rests at the nape of their neck, a simple latch without a key. Cruelly simplistic. She has to get in close to reach up and around their head, and Phantom flinches when her arms circle them.

She freezes, expecting them to attack, or leap away, but they don't. She flicks the latch. The mask doesn't fall away as she though it would, but it's looser now. Carefully, she pries the mask open and pulls it off. It resists, for a moment, so stuck to Phantom's face, but eventually gives. She tosses it away as soon as it's off and can barely hold in her gasp.

A deep imprint cuts across Phantom's cheeks and nose. Ectoplasm smears the lower half of Phantom's face, blisters surrounding their lips. She didn't think a ghost's own ectoplasm could hurt them but looking at how thin the slots in the mask are, it probably takes a lot of pressure to push it all out.

Jazz touches Phantom's cheek, her thumb tracing their jaw, wiping away some of the ectoplasm to reveal a series of thin red lines branching across their skin.

Phantom's shaking has stopped, but Jazz's hands tremble as she reaches for their goggles. She pushes them up to their forehead. The eyes that stare back at her are wild, pupils stretched wide. They look right through her, uncomprehending, but she recognizes them instantly. One has a little more green, the other more blue, but both colours swirl in each iris.

Jazz squeezes her eyes shut. She can't hold back her tears any longer, pressing her head against Phantom's shoulder. She wraps her arms around her brother's neck and sobs.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #phanfic #jazz fenton #ageswap au #tumblroneshots

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bluewhale52 · 5 years ago

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Little Black Book: The One You Trust (M)

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits

WC: 5.1k

A/N: Completely unedited, as I wrote it between free times I could get, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes made. Hope you enjoy reading it! 💜

I am also reposting this because I changed my tumblr setting, so hopefully this link will work better overall.

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book