#because being in a clean space is like. the only thing that keeps me sane

[warframe1999]

Sooo…

The protoframes, huh?

i wanted to go a bit into what each member of the Hex (yay, new syndicate!!) had to say when you got into proximity of them in the relay. there’s honestly a lot here to set the scene not only for 1999 itself, but introducing each protoframe as well as sort of hinting at their interpersonal relationships, and how they interact with one another! some of my favorite kinda of lore is specifically character development and personality-focused dynamics like this so here!!!! i walked back and forth for an hour for YOU! here is all proximity dialogue for each character in the Höllvania Mall relay:

ARTHUR:

“Question. Could I take Quincy down if he turned on me?”

“We’ll find you, Doctor. That’s a promise.”

“Stop sniffing around my head, Eleanor. If I want to talk, I’ll talk.”

“We need to keep Lettie on her feet. If she goes we all go.”

“Dunno why we even bothered with that cleaning rota.”

“Yeah, we can hold this place.”

“One day, Aoi. No more roadblocks and checkpoints. Just you and me and the bikes, open road for miles, all this bullshit far away. I swear to Sol.”

“Still too open. We need more chokepoints.”

“Bottled water. Like sodding gold dust.”

“Well Amir’s still alive. That’s a win.”

LETICIA:

“I got nothin’ to prove to you, Quincy! Go play your little games, niño.”

“¿Qué onda? The Lady Eleanor ain’t no more freaky than the last time you checked in. ‘Less you know different?”

“Yo, Aoi. Chill, hermana. Do something for yourself, for once. Arthur ain’t going to blow away if you blink.”

“The boss says care for his sister I care for his sister. As long as you still are his sister… and as long as I feel like listening to him.”

“Being loved and being hurt? Yeah, I make no distinction. I knew someone, once, wired the same way. Kept me sane. And what of it? Te crees muy acá ¿no? Get outta my head, Eleanor.”

“Never signed up for this. I’ll be home Mamá. Your little girl doesn’t end here. No te preocupes.”

“Man, I’ve been awake so long that even the spiders in my head have all gone to sleep.”

“Wacha: unless you’re pissing blood right this second, whatever it is can wait.”

“I swear, should lock Aoi and Amir in a cuna. Didn’t sign up for no babysitting gig.”

AOI:

“I don’t wanna go on patrol. I wanna take stuff apart.”

“Nearly time for the On-lyne boys.”

“Metal, metal, metal, what do you want to be?”

“Yep. I can live like this.”

“Arthur needs to keep some fuel in the tank for himself. Goddamn savior complex that man has…”

“I oughta get some headphones. Then I wouldn’t have to hear Quincy work off all that surplus testosterone!”

“If they take Entrati out, who’s going to look after that mutant jaguar of his? Poor thing won’t last five minutes in the wild.”

“Amir! Remember to hydrate!”

“Dear past self: we finally got those super powers we always wanted. Whaddayaknow.”

“GodDAMN. Lettie would you keep your frickin’ rats OUT of my SPACE?”

QUINCY:

“Don’t look up, Doctor.”

“Arthur needs to leave the Major to me, innit. Respect my methods.”

“Don’t mind the waiting. Plenty to be thinking about.”

“You don’t know me. Never see what darkens your rooftops. Inevitable, like the rain. Handing out consolations in a transient connection. Boom. Smoke. And ghost.”

“You wiv me, Eleanor? How deep in you go? See anythin’ you fancy, girl?”

“Amir is a weak, weak boy. Like Aunty said, ‘duppy know who fi frighten.’”

“Thassit… nice and steady.”

“How many man have the opps got? Not enough t’be takin’ me. Never.”

“Oi, Lettie! Grab y’ strap and let’s go. Best a five buys the drinks?”

ELEANOR:

“Don’t expect me to tell you what I’ve seen in Amir’s head. He’s not a beautiful, broken marionette, and he’s nobody’s project. He’s one of us.”

“Quincy thinks he’s going to wake up one night to me chewing the flesh from his ribs. Maybe he’s right.”

“I know you’re there. I can feel you. It’s okay, I won’t tell the others.”

“Aoi? She’s lovely and kind and strong, and… I kind of hate her a little bit. Because it should have been her spreading her happiness into everyone’s heads, and me throwing cars and trucks around.”

“I thought there were going to be two of you! Where’s the other one?”

“Blood. There’s gonna be a fight. Something… bursting. Crossed swords. Arthur!”

“What on earth is a ‘Mara Lohk’?”

“Oh, you’re going to make such a difference this time around.”

“I don’t think Doctor Entrati expected me to survive. I had a lot more than just a cough. But… survive I did. And Lettie has not forgiven me for it.

“Oh. OH. She’s wonderful! Triple-faced goddess! But there’s a shadow on her, isn’t there?”

AMIR:

“A little zap, and… infinite credit! No more ‘insert coin’! Not that we could insert coin. We have no coin. Once we had coin, but now Aoi has smooshed all the coin. Coinnnn.”

“Why did they never make a console port?”

“BAD MOVE, SPACE CAA-DET.”

“But the one thought none of them spoke out loud was - could Lettie reattach a head?”

“Hey, Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Dahh, you missed it.”

“Eleanor? Are you there? Can you - can you give my brain a hug please? Thank you.”

“We’re getting a little too excited, let’s step it down, step it down before we get the blue cracklies. In one two out one two.”

“Oi’m Quincy. Oi’m gonna blow out yer kneecaps. Mashup in yer chip shop alright.”

“Ungh! This violent video game is influencing my emotions! Societal norms… eroding! Morality… subsumed! I MUST KILL!”

“This place used to smell so good. Coffee. Cookies. Fresh clean socks. Now it’s just rust, pain, and old socks.”

[dark-is-d3ad]

Moving AU, part 3, anyone? Haven't got a tv and a ps5 like Ghost, but I do have some lights now (gosh my own headcanon made me want them so bad, why do I do this to myself).

Part 1, part 2, part 2.5 - context.

• A few days later it really starts getting on Ghost's nerves. Even with help from Gaz and Roach, a lot of their stuff isn't sorted yet, and they're both tired of it already. He's used to order, his home was always organised, and this is nowhere near it, and it won't be for foreseeable future. So, he does the only sane thing every adult person should do in this situation: holes up on the sofa and goes on a gaming binge.

• Ghost's sofa is black (of course), huge, and it's just a sofa. No plead, no pillows. A comfy one, yes, but to Soap it looks kinda empty. Well, given that its owner only has one chair to his name, Johnny knows better than to expect something else. Yet, he kind of wants to sneak in a couple of pillows, and is very surprised when Ghost protects his space with ferocity of a wild cat. No funny colours on his sofa of doom, not even a smidge. Johnny's slightly upset, but he's not giving up on the plan.

• He starts by fucking around. Then sits down to play Diablo with Ghost in the evening. Brings a plead and a nice mustard-coloured pillow in a little while, just to make himself comfy for the time being, OK? It's fucking cold. And then he conveniently forgets them there. Several days of shenanigans after, Ghost concedes.

"Pillow allowance," he says, so seriously it cracks Soap up. "No more than two, no patterns." No patterns it is. Johnny still counts it as a win.

• Soap's go-to sorting method is "make em piles". He's got a clean laundry pile, a dirty laundry pile, a kitchen pile, a random stuff pile, and he keeps throwing things around when he goes through the rest of the stuff they have to sort. With all due respect, that annoys Ghost to an extreme degree, because there's piles everywhere, but it doesn't look like they're getting smaller. If anything, they started to consume the little space they had.

• The "dirty dishes" pile is one of them, and Ghost finally takes care of it. They both dislike washing dishes, but someone's gotta do it. And it apparently annoys him more than Johhny, so Ghost gets to get rid of it. He feels so much better when it's all done, dried, and put away.

• They've split the wardrobe, and Soap's side is still partly in the pile state. It's also how Ghost learns that Soap doesn't really iron his clothes unless it's like a shirt he's going to wear on a wedding today, and he has to. At this point he's really starting to question his own sanity. Why does it bother him what Soap does (or doesn't) with his clothes? He really needs to chill out, he decides.

• Johnny's really doing just fine, because none of what Ghost does really bothers him, and he's in his lane, somehow managing to hop around his newly made piles while still on crutches, and he does it so effortlessly. It's Ghost who keeps stumbling on them and cursing all the time.

• Somehow there's not much space for Ghost's gun collection. Ok, he's got a place to work on them, but he doesn't want to store them away. After a while, they decide that one of the bedroom walls can be sacrificed so he can hang them up nicely.

"Are we sleeping in the armoury now?" Soap asks.

"You've got your toys,I've got mine."

Fair.

• Johnny's art room is one of the spaces that actually came together from the get go. All of his things had fit, and it's got a nice space to it, enough to put an easel out, and maybe set up a composition. And the light is good. There's a shelf in there almost bursting from the art supplies he had accumulated over the years. The best way to describe it would be "organised chaos." Somehow, while in other spaces the chaos really gets to Ghost, he enjoys it in the art room. He's been spending more and more time in there.

• Johnny has a little really soft futon with loads of pillows in the corner, just next to his desk (it's not for naps, OK? It's for a performance series where the artist explores their understanding of comfort, and if they happen to start to snore, it's a part of it). So, Ghost is now also an artist of sorts. He's been doing these performance pieces quite alright, working on it tirelessly almost every afternoon, and Johnny really doesn't mind it for two big reasons. First: he gets to draw relaxed Ghost, sometimes even maskless. Second: it's nice to join him there, too. It's a perfect cuddling space.

• What Ghost loves about the futon corner is that it is freaking ultimate safety. Even his sofa wasn't ever as good as this. He can actually sleep there without nightmares. The fact that Johnny's around doing his thing, the quiet rustling of pencil on paper, music low on the background - it knocks him out better than any sleeping aids he had ever tried. He usually comes there with a book, but never goes through more than 10 pages at most.

• After their kitchen finally got sorted, they found a quick understanding. If one cooks, the other does the dishes. Soap basically takes over dinners, Ghost does breakfasts, and they usually have a snack in the midday rather than a proper lunch. Also, Johnny shows him a couple of tricks to level up his cooking game, so now breakfasts are getting fancier. Ghost's secretly very proud of himself. And Soap doesn't miss a chance to praise him when it turns out good which honestly helps way more than he's ready to admit.

• Ghost basically stole a couple of finished paintings and hung them up in the living room. Soap tries to argue that they aren't his best ones, and they aren't good enough, and he could probably find a multitude of reasons why they should take them down.

"But I like them," Ghost says simply. And it's hard to argue with that. Besides, after a couple of days, Johnny gets used to it, and deems them "not too bad". It's a tie now, and a bloody good comeback for the pillow intrusion.

• He lets Johnny help him take care of the guns. It's a nice chill evening, they work on them together, Soap's humming a little silly tune under his breath. Ghost says they really have to take them out on a shooting range when his shoulder is better, shoot some plates or something. Johnny's thrilled about it.

• A few days later, Ghost finally declares war on the rest of the piles, and goes through them in one go, not stopping until they're gone for good. There's very little random stuff left after that, and they just put it all in a box and make a very responsible adult decision to put it away and go through it sometime later. Both know that it will probably never happen, but do they care? Not really.

~~~

"You know what's weird, Johnny?"

"What?"

"You know how if you're left with extra parts in a Lego set that means you've messed up a step somewhere?"

"Yeah, and?"

"We've got some screws, and that one is definitely from that chair. It's supposed to go in first."

"Oh, hell no, Si, we're not doing it again."

~~~

• They are even hosting a little housewarming party. Ghost never had one, so he's way too anxious, although it's just the close circle - their team + Laswell and her wife.

P.S. there will probably be one more part with the party, some neighbour action, a little more of outside stuff, but that's where I'm wrapping it up. After all, the move is done, piles are almost gone, and I'm close to being a functional human being again.

[jenconnellysshybellybutton]

True Detective: Shadow Land

Part 2: The Tired And The Hurt

Tw: everything, child death, r@pe PTSD

Also on my ao3!

August 3, 2024

Liz always works on Saturdays. She had nothing else to do but paperwork and telling the folks in jail to shut up and they’ll be out in no time, and to be honest she could never admit it, but she enjoyed it, doing paperwork. She really liked peace and quiet. Except when it isn’t, and the case is fucked beyond belief. Danvers was a hard person to navigate. The only things keeping her sane were Leah and Evangeline.

She was finishing writing up a report when Leah came into her office upset asking questions Liz did not have answers to. “I don’t know Leah! We don’t have any idea why it’s happening. The feds don’t get here till Thursday for whatever reason!”

“Well actually do something instead of writing up shit!”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to get in trouble. I ain’t losin’ this job, Leah-”

“You do unlawful shit with Evangeline all the time?!”

“Go home Leah!”

Leah slammed her office door which made everyone including Pete to look into the office windows. This wasn’t uncommon for their relationship to be like this but it was very much more critical than anything, even the pollution of the mines. Children were missing. Native children, and the entire town seemed to hate her, for a good reason, the affairs and all, but that didn’t mean she doesn’t know how to do her job.

Liz opened her door and made a hand gesture to Navarro who was sitting on one of the chairs in the lobby part. Looked back at everyone who was staring at her. “Stop looking at me and get back to work!”

Navarro came and sat down without a second thought.

“Find anything?”

“No…our examiners are still going through each one of where the kids were last seen. Although I got something for you.” Liz smiled, opening up the one drawer of her desk. “Stand up.”

Navarro didn’t need to be told twice. “Do I want to know?”

Liz held out a badge from the department towards her. “This is for your outstanding dedication from the Tsalal case, Sergeant Navarro.”

Evangeline took it into her hand, running her thumb over the insignia. “Liz, why? You’re going to get in trouble for this-”

“Ange, don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do. You deserve it. Plus I know how miserable the trooper position can be okay?” Liz put on her black uniform jacket and walked towards the door. 

“Liz-”

“Just go with it. We have missing kids for christ sake. Get your shit and meet me in the car outside.”

Navarro went to the supply closet and Liz went over to Pete’s desk. “Anything?”

“I was just about to tell you. You’re right about it being pure hydrogen peroxide. It was most definitely used to clean up the blood, but they said they have no idea how much there was. No cameras, no nothing from the community.” Pete handed her a chunky manila folder. “This is everything on the registered sex offenders within that 15 mile radius, if that's what you're thinking.”

The gears in Liz’s head were turning. “Send some folks to go knock on houses. Ask if they saw anything. I’m going to check out more of that Lawrence house, see if there’s anything. Did they take anything from it?”

“Shouldn’t of, because we have limited space to hold evidence.”

Liz grunted and grabbed her keys. “These people could have gone anywhere in the state, the probability of them being within that 15 miles is low. Or maybe they aren’t even in the state…”

“Ask the right questions, Liz.”

Liz hit his shoulder with a fille folder. “You don’t get to ask the questions with me you little shit.”

“Alright alright! Oh…Evangeline ate your sandwich earlier.” Peter smirked.

“Of course she did.” 

***

Liz started the car and tossed the empty sandwich bag into the Sergeant’s lap. “I promote you and you eat my fucking sandwich? I fed you last night, right? You're not helpless.”

“I threw up last night.”

Liz paused and turned to her, feeling bad about the comment. Navarro’s face was pale like she saw a ghost. Liz made sure she was giving her full attention to her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Was it the food-”

“I had a vision a few nights ago Liz…”

“So, just nightmare shit? I’m not trying to minimize it just…”

“No, my nightmares never get this bad. I was looking for Clark again, except, this time when I went outside, you were leaning against Clark's body, just there in the snow…just motionless, breathing in puffs. There was blood…” Navarro leaned her elbow on the window and held up her head, her voice cracking. She sniffles.

Liz's eyes grew bigger, she didn't know how to react.

“So much blood…” She let her tears fall. “You looked at me…you were holding your own heart in your hand, Liz.”

The woman stared at her with tears forming in her ducts. She gulped. Her teeth gritted together. She turned away and started the car, put it into drive, and drove out onto the dirt road.

“I don't have time for this. This fucking bullshit. I moved on! Pete moved on! I moved on- w-why can’t you, huh? What happened at Tsalal was fucking terrible but at least I have the balls to fuck off and put it behind me!”

Liz sped down the dirt path not even looking at her partner for a while. Eventually, Evangeline broke the silence, whipping the wetness from her eyes.

“Not everyone takes the darkest shit that happens to them and shoves it deep down instead of taking care of the issue, Danvers! Yes, it took you a decade to let Holden go but you did get there and you’ve been doing better because of that.”

“How would you know? You weren’t fucking there. I waited a little bit each day thinking one day you’d show up with something good to say. Instead, I get news there’s missing Native kids all around this fuckin’ place.”

“Holden loved you Liz and you know that.”

“Leave him out of this or I swear I’ll punch you right fucking here-”

“Do it. It won’t make your problems go away. He’s watching you, Liz. He sees you like this.”

The other woman pulls to a stop, not even going over it. Liz’s face was pale, her pupils bigger than normal. She tried her hardest not to let her emotions get the best of her, but she failed. A single drop ran down her cheek. Navarro wanted to get rid of it for her. Instead of going to do that, Liz turned her whole body to her, giving her the full attention that was needed. She gulped and spoke through her thin lips, the corners being pulled with defiance.

“I failed him. He would not want the person I became after.”

Liz took off her two layers of gloves on her left hand and reached over to brush against Navarro’s cheek. She knew she could continue when the younger woman didn’t flinch. Navarro stared into those beautiful blue eyes of hers, they always had a shimmer to them but at this moment the sparkle was clouded by the pain from her heart that still held onto Holden. Liz’s hand was warm on her face, her thumb rubbing her skin repeatedly. Navarro yearned for Danvers since the beginning, but with the constant fighting and dominance over cases over who does what, their mindsets being drastically different, it never took off.

“You’re who I wish I was.” Liz said gently with a soft smile. Her hand lingered on the younger one’s cheek. “And more.” She gulped and when she went to remove her hand, Evangeline put her own on top of hers.

“You’re all you need to be. You just need help picking yourself back up. Just because you’ve done bad things, doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Navarro let Liz take her hand away. Liz made an “o” shape with her mouth and took Evangeline’s hand, kissing her fingers and breathing hot air onto them. “You’re my heart.” Her face lit up with a cute smirk.

“Aren’t you a smooth talker?”

“You’re freezing. Let’s check out our places, huh?”

When they arrived at the scene. They separated. Danvers went into the forest with the entire APF, while Navarro stayed at the Lawrence house with Gavin’s mom. Liz was drawn deeper and further into the sea of trees as a voice called her, which led to the voice showing her Gavin’s already decaying body. Liz was 2 miles out from the house, and the atmosphere grew dry and cold. She hyperventilated as she spoke into her walkie strapped to her coat.

“This is Chief Danvers, 10-55d. Oh god-”

The longer she looked the worse her body reacted, she was practically dry-heaving by the time they arrived at her position. Her thoughts raced as images of the corpse didn’t leave her head. She’s seen dead children several times, including her own, and it always hit her the worst.

Danvers watched from behind the double-sided mirror, watching the autopsy right before her eyes. She wiped up the tears right away trying to not relate the situation to Holden’s in any way.

“He seemed to suffer from Hyperhidrosis right before passing. Extreme bruising on the collarbones, which both are broken. Fellatio was performed on the boy’s anus-”

As Liz listened to the static words that came from the other side of the barrier between her and the autopsy. She felt nauseous, even though she, out of all people could not handle it. Danvers looked away and walked at a quick pace to the door.

“When it’s over and done with, send the info to everyone at the station. Tell Seargent Navarro she’s dismissed for the day.” She said to the officer standing next to the doorway. Liz yanked the metal door open and rushed past the several medical personnel, and officers from the station. They wanted answers and looked at her like she had them. The corners of her lips twitched and her breathing grew uneven. She exited the building and went straight for the SUV, not caring that it was pouring like crazy. She slammed the door shut and watched her breath ease out into the cold atmosphere. The hurt woman sobbed into the steering wheel.

“Where’s Danvers!” Navarro raised her voice at the guarding officer.

“Ma’am, once again, I cannot give out that information.”

“I am the Chief’s partner. You tell me where she is or I’ll have you suspended. Choose wisely.” The man sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know where she went but people are saying she went home, also she told me to tell you you’re dismissed for the day. She looked like shit and I think she’s sick-”

Evangeline sighed and rushed out the door. Putting her hood on, covering herself from the harsh rain that soon turned into sleet. Cold and wet. She slammed on the gas and went down the highway. Even at the wiper’s fastest speed, the sleet still disrupted her vision of the road. She thought of every possible thing Liz could be doing right now. She didn’t know which one of those things she would end up choosing but either way, Liz would be fucked.

If there was one thing Navarro wished for, out of everything, was to take away Liz’s pain if she could. Wanting to rid her of that terrible weight left a dent in both of them at the end of each day. Navarro didn’t know if she regretted disappearing or not, she enjoyed being away, but not from Liz. Liz was her person. A single star in the dark night sky. Evangeline didn’t want that light to die out.

Navarro turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. There was a soft warm light illuminating from Liz’s windows. She had to be home because her car was there. As she went up to open the door she noticed that it was cracked open for anyone to come in.

“Liz?”

“Here.”

Navarro could tell she was tired by her voice cracking. She was presented with a musky smell when she entered the dimly lit house. She saw Danvers’ discarded clothes leading her through the hallway. Liz was slunched over on her sofa naked as a baby pouring another glass of vodka.

“Liz what the fuck!”

“Why are you here?” She asks acting slap-happy.

Navarro tosses her the discarded shirt. “Everyone was alarmed because of how you left the fucking place and I have nowhere else to go- can you cover yourself up?”

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting visitors.” She laughed. Her hair looked wet and filthy.

“How much have you had.”

“Mmm…I don’t know.”

“Okay, you’re done-”

“Take it away and it won’t be good for you.”

“How can I convince you?”

“I don’t fucking know. Give me a reason.”

“Leah.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m dead serious, what if she walked in here and saw her mom drunk and naked-”

“Fine. Turn around.”

Navarro complied. “ I heard what happened.”

Liz scoffed. “Then you can figure out how much I’ve had…I can’t even think about it. She headed towards her bedroom where she changed into some sweats again. “It’s worse, physically, than what happened to Annie K…”

“Do I get to listen to the tape?”

“I wouldn’t let you do that to yourself under good consciousness. If you truly want to-”

“It’s my job, Liz, I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’m not going to force you to do anything. It’s all up to you- but please, the photos they’re-”

“I understand.”

Liz flopped belly-first onto the mattress and turned over to see Navarro. The taller woman standing over the edge of the bed. “You’re staring. I know I know I’m so irresistible.”

“You’re so fucking drunk.”

“I am for sure I guess but at least I’m a functional alcoholic.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “That’s not- Goodnight Danvers!”

“Wait.” Liz reached for her wrist and held it gently. She didn’t want her to go. For neither of them to be alone again all cold and scared. “…stay, please, if it’s no trouble.”

Somber memories of them came into Evangeline’s head. Back to shaking Liz, praying she would stay awake. Holding her head like a baby, each tap she gave her frozen face reminded her of the time going by each second. Evangeline took her hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. She didn’t even bother changing, she just removed her coat and boots and laid on top of the covers with Liz. They faced each other and locked eyes for a while. “I have no one.” A minute goes by with them looking at each other in silence. “You’re everything to me…”

“I’m scared of losing you too. You’re still a pain in my ass sometimes but…you’re a part of my family, and whatever happens on this case going forward- just- we know it’s not going to go well. Shit is definitely going to happen to us. Let’s just, take care of each other okay? You check up on me…I baby your drunk ass?”

Liz thought she was so beautiful, she was jealous in a way, mostly admiration, smooth youthful skin, everything. She compared her to a blooming flower in her head. Its pedals so vibrant. Liz chuckled. “I haven’t had one drink since the beginning of June so I think I’m doing well all things considered. What about you?”

Evangeline loved Liz’s face, her neck, the wrinkles from a long life wearing it proudly. Her crow’s feet by her soft eyes. She was a tough cookie for sure, but during times like these, she was as delicate as paper-thin glass. The slightest pressure and she could break. “Not since a week ago.” She smiled back to giving her full attention to Liz’s ice blue eyes.

2:07am

First, she couldn’t feel her face. When she walked out into the long bright dark that was the first thing she felt. Searching for her partner, she felt shitty enough for the whole thing. Now she knew if she chose to do anything she would be guilty for the rest of her life, carrying that guilt on her back.

“Navarro!”

Nothing, no answer, no one in sight. When she blinked she instantly found herself under the ice, taking water into her lungs and feeling them get filled up, no hole in the ice. Not being able to kick herself higher. She gave up trying, there was nowhere to go anyway. She stopped moving, letting the earth take her anywhere. She opened her eyes to take it in only to find Holden under the water with her kicking and struggling, she tried to get over to him, the darkness eventually taking them deeper and deeper into the void, getting to hold him one last time before it all went dark.

Liz woke up with a shake being given to her shoulder, gasping when her eyes opened and she was back on the ground in reality.

“Liz! Are you okay?”

Liz grunted, shifting herself to be on her back. Navarro’s hand still lingered on the soft olive-patterned skin of her forearm. She sat up throwing her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her eyes. She sniffled. “I’m fine…”

“Liz…”

“I’m fine.”

Evangeline knew she couldn’t pry anything out of her. The only thing she could do was maybe with a little poke get into her mind. They both had nightmares but Liz never wanted to admit it or talk to anyone about them. “You were saying things, Liz. You were scared.”

“Go back to sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

***

Liz wiped the cold water dripping down her chin from the glass of ice she was drinking. The back of her shirt was stained with sweat. She was overheated and couldn’t get Gavin out of her head. Evangeline walked into the kitchen looking at her leaning against the counter. “You want to tell me what’s going on since you clearly aren’t sleeping worth a shit?”

Liz scoffed once again. “It was Holden again. I was back outside searching for you. I called for you. Ended up back under the ice, something holding me down. I was okay under there. I let myself go because I couldn’t pull myself up. It was peaceful. Then Holden was there, I tried to save him. I could feel him again…I held him-”

Liz placed the glass down and sniffed again. “I lost him 12 years ago it shouldn’t crush me like this. I can- I can feel too much but I wish it’d go away-”

The younger woman walked over to her and embraced her with a tight hug, she towered over Liz, one hand holding the back of her head, her thumb rubbing the nape of her neck gently. Liz breathed in the homey scent from her t-shirt.

“There are things that are weighing you down. You need to befriend them.”

There was a minute of silence shared. Just holding each other in comfort. Liz’s breathing settled down after a bit. She looked up at Evangeline. “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me.” She twitches her nose. “You stink.”

“I know.”

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Today on Monty: The aftermath of last lore episode.

Foxy wakes up in a jail cell. An unlocked one.

Eclipse has just been sitting around, waiting for him to wake up.

The prison is in the middle of space. He stole an entire jail just for this.

Extreme temperatures can cause system failures, so Foxy can’t leave.

Eclipse keeps talking about keeping Foxy safe. Apparently Foxy dying leads to futures Eclipse doesn’t like.

Foxy does not give a fuck about his own life, and is willing to die to spite Eclipse. Eclipse threatens to torture Monty if Foxy dies.

Eclipse claims he’ll send Foxy back to Earth once it’s safe.

Foxy asks for a computer. Eclipse tells him it’s in a hidden room that he’ll find eventually.

There no door in the prison, and Foxy can’t reach the windows. The only way out is teleportation. Eclipse also made the railings too tall to jump over, just to make absolutely sure Foxy can’t kill himself.

Foxy dying pushes Monty clean over the edge, straight into killing everyone else. Eclipse also looses “a couple of things” if that happens. So, he’s nudging the timeline in a more preferable direction.

Eclipse rerouted the teleporter Monty installed in Foxy to right outside the cell he woke up in.

Eclipse bluffs about wanting to torture Foxy. When called on it, he makes excuses.

Foxy gets the whole prison to himself, the hidden computer room is somewhere upstairs.

Eclipse is keeping him here until an unspecified event happens. He won’t clarify because Foxy can still contact Monty.

After asking Eclipse what the prison is made of, Foxy tries to bash his skull open on the wall. After reminding Foxy that he’s not letting him kill himself, Eclipse boops his snoot again.

Foxy would rather not be involved in any of the Eclipse stuff. At all.

Eclipse offers to give Foxy his memories back. Foxy is not interested. He’s happy with his life. Eclipse and Foxy find eachother confusing.

Eclipse is going to scrub the internet of any information regarding Foxy’s creation, since he wants to find that information himself.

Foxy has figured out that Eclipse is lonely and wants friends, and it annoys him. Eclipse dodges the question and wonders why Foxy would even pick Monty over him in the first place, considering Monty’s everything. Foxy avoids that question by calling Eclipse a lying liar who lies.

In one possible future, Foxy turns into a dolphin.

Foxy just wants to live his future instead of being shown it.

Foxy points out Eclipse’s whole avoid self-reflection at any cost thing.

Eclipse claims that, for Foxy, helping him just entails Foxy having a nice happy life.

Foxy asks Eclipse how he determines the futures. Eclipse admits he peeks into nearly identical dimensions that are further along. Foxy points out that those aren’t this dimension and none of them were guaranteed here. Eclipse cites multiverse theory and branching possibilities in response.

Eclipse claims this dimensions is getting dangerously close to a future he refuses to let happen. Foxy accuses him of being dishonest, which he denies, and he accuses Foxy of being paranoid.

Foxy roasts Eclipse and tells him to fuck off. Eclipse fucks off, but warns Foxy that he’ll be back with a piece of Monty. Foxy does not take him seriously.

There’s no cell service. Foxy is only worried about how he’ll do videos now.

Foxy: What the hell’s the matter with you, where the hell am I?

Eclipse: Oh, there’s quite a lot of things wrong with me, Foxy, let’s be honest.

Foxy: I can tell.

____

Eclipse: I can change where that goes to next. Do you want to be tortured?

Foxy: Yeah, sure, go ahead. Change it.

Eclipse: Aww, Foxy, much as I’d love to do that, not this time.

____

Eclipse: You seem confused.

Foxy: No, this is, actually just dumb.

____

Foxy: You’re really bad at making friends.

____

Eclipse: I, need the time to think of words, idiot.

____

Eclipse: Stay sane down here, Foxy. A place like this, you can hear things at night.

Foxy: That’s great.

Foxy is so fed up with Eclipse

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 57 - Part 2

*Warning: Adult Content*  

- Lincoln -

I was no stranger to pain but even I could admit this searing agony was entirely new shit to me.

If I could speak my curses aloud, I would but my mind seemed to be waking before the rest of me, only receiving the pain signals and nothing else.

Typical.

While my body slowly follows suit, I try to recall the series of events that led me here, suffering a torment in my heart whilst lying on something that smelt disturbingly new.

I remembered the battle well, with Diablos being his usually over-chatty self.

Kalem's arrival with what was apparently his demon brother, a blissful period without any mention or glimpse of the showerhead and then finally, a spear through my heart by an overzealous cult member.

I breathe a sigh when my body allows it and then spear no compassion in mentally berating myself.

I'd assumed that I would be hurt badly from the warning Malcolm had so desperately tried to give me before the fighting had begun but if I'd listened, I could've perhaps stopped it and avoided causing such agony to my love.

Because I could see that clearly, more clearly than anything else in my memories, that haunting look of pure terror being etched into Kalem's sweet face and then the darkness that had consumed him afterwards.

My poor boy, he'd suffered far too much.

Kalem... Where was Kalem?

Forcing my eyes open despite their will to remain frozen shut, I blink several times to take in the unfamiliar space.

The overbearing sunlight pressed right through the only opening available in the large space that seemed to be a cave?

If I wasn't hallucinating the high, curved ceilings that grew narrower the further it went.

I didn't think I was hallucinating but when I looked down and saw a mattress beneath me, I wasn't too sure because the last time I'd been conscious, caves didn't usually keep a stockpile of large mattresses with enough sheets to wrap a mummy.

Sitting up, I peer through the cave's entrance, spotting what seemed to be a never-ending field of sunflowers and surprisingly, that was the only thing that made me feel sane.

If there were sunflowers, then there would be Kalem too.

However, if this was a dream, then it was nice to know that my psyche was decidedly warped.

As strength begins to pump itself back into my body, I make a mental inventory of all the working parts.

Besides the ache in my chest, everything else seemed to be in the right order, far stronger in fact, which suggested I'd gotten a large feeding of blood while I was out.

A glance down at my chest reveals a tightly bound collection of bandages that were fresh and clean from the looks of things.

I couldn't remember ever having to be bandaged up and while the thought should have been alarming, it was oddly comforting to me.

I didn't think there was anyone else in the world who would think to bandage up a vampire besides Kalem.

The wound felt to be already healed, I could feel by the tightness of new skin there, sealing itself away with the shreds of my heart, so there was no real purpose to keeping the bandages but I didn't dare remove them.

Tugging the millions of blankets free, I slide off the mattress' edge and make my way out of the cave with a hand tracing the cool walls.

My joints pop with each step, cracking like they hadn't been used in decades and I thank God, Malcolm and Wenquie weren't here to hear it, God knew they'd never let me live it down.

A flash of memory crosses my mind, one where a giant demon was flying the pair away with the demand that everyone run from us, from Kalem.

The question of what happened after circles my mind but quiets when I meet the cave's entrance.

Squinting past the annoying sun that blared across the open lands, I try to find something other than the yellow sunflowers that was so prominent I almost felt sick just seeing it but there's no sign of anything familiar.

There was nothing by flat lands as if I'd been deposited in the middle of nowhere.

I don't know what I expected to find but Kalem's own personal heaven and my personal hell was not it.

I give a mental tug on the Lyrra, searching for any of the clan that could be near, only to find that they seemed miles away.

We couldn't possibly be anywhere near the castle then or where the war had been, so where on Earth were we?

The heavy footfalls of someone approaching derail my thoughts, rousing worry until I catch the scent of honey on the passing winds.

It turns my bones and muscles to jelly, threatening to put me down again as I step out so I can confirm that it is, in fact, my love.

Walking towards me with his head cast down, Kalem quietly ran his fingers over the bouquet of black orchids he carried in his hands.

The sight of him makes my soul brighten.

Under the sun, he truly looked like an angel with his large wings shimmering behind him, though they were crestfallen at his back, appearing like a sad, golden curtain at his back.

It was still staggering to see him like this, a near giant instead of the small boy who'd become a part of me but it did not dare make my love for him waver.

Raising his head absentmindedly, Kalem's eyes swipe over me only for him to immediately still, his entire body going rigid while the bottom edges of his wings flutter hopefully.

The orchids fall as his fingers slacken like his jaw, gliding down to fill the flower beds like spots of black amongst all the yellow.

"Lincoln?" Kalem whispers shakily before he rubs his eyes hard.

My entire body aches as I catch the pure disbelief and hesitance in his eyes as if he were afraid to hope.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 14a

*Warning Adult Content*

The USB - Part 1

The kiss should've lasted longer than it did.

That thought is the only one lingering at the forefront of Knox's mind.

It stayed there for the rest of the evening and after Everett fell asleep while watching another one of his silly little movies, the thought rang even louder in Knox's head.

It was like a siren call stuck on a loop, taunting him for not having done more with Everett when he'd had the chance.

The boy had become so needy and flustered that he ended up finishing what Knox had recklessly started, effectively taking control and completing the kiss.

Trying to think up a logical explanation for why he froze at the very last second has led Knox to a dead end every time.

But that was then.

The moment is long gone now.

No more wallowing in past mistakes.

There's important business to handle.

"Jeez, can I get any fucking cornier or what?" Knox mutters to himself while scribbling down the reason behind his absence on a yellow sticky note.

He makes sure to include phrases like don't worry,everything is fine and stay in the room until I come back because he isn't sure how Everett will react when or if he wakes up to find he has been left all alone.

The buttons that set the boy off seem to change day by day.

Seeing how broken Everett looked after having that panic attack in front of Finn, Knox concluded he had to do better.

Despite his conflicting feelings, he could no longer be careless with Everett.

No matter how ridiculous he feels in the moment, Knox will do whatever is necessary to make sure that Everett feels safe and secure while they live together.

When finished with the note, Knox places it on top of his pillow.

Everett is asleep on his side and facing Knox's direction, so the note will be the first thing he sees if he wakes up before Knox returns.

On to business.

Knox exhales a deep breath before turning to leave the room, anxiety at what's to come and irritation over leaving Everett alone weighs heavy on his shoulders.

He gently closes the bedroom door shut behind him, sporting a look sinister enough to deter a person from stopping to interact with him as he sets off down the hallway.

Tracking down a man like Mason has never been a difficult chore.

The guy is obsessed with only two things, tech and women.

If he isn't in his bedroom on his computer working a job for Gavin that usually consists of him hacking into some shit that he has no business being in, then the horny bastard is most likely getting his dick wet with a patch whore in the jump-off room.

A place Knox hasn't visited in a long while.

It's the only spare room at the clubhouse that no one wants to clean because it's strictly used for sex.

Truthfully, half the members don't think twice about bringing a random to the place where they lay their head at night but the other half prefers to keep their bedrooms off limits when it comes to strangers.

That private space is typically reserved for their partners.

Funny how Knox barely bat an eye when Everett had to officially 'move in' with him.

What that says about his cold heart and current state of mind... well, he'd rather not acknowledge it right now.

I don't think this room has ever gotten a proper break.

Knox's first stop is the jump-off room, being that it's the closest.

From several feet away, he can hear a couple moaning and the headboard of the bed thumping aggressively against the wall inside.

Knox isn't in the mood to be polite, so he opens the door instead of knocking like a sane person.

"I'm close, baby. Holy shit, you're so fucking big. I-I think I'm going to..." screams the blue-haired woman riding one of his brothers.

The position that they're in has her pale back facing the door, preventing Knox from getting a look at who she's presently fucking the soul out of.

"Mason?" Knox calls during the couple's climax. "That you under there?"

"Nah, man. It's me." Alvin, the club's VP, laughs and comes into view after the woman slides off him in a hurry, pulling the sheets up to her blushing face.

"What can I help you with? Or are you looking to join in?"

Knox rolls his eyes.

"Not interested. Have you seen Mason around?"

"No. He's probably holed up in his room doing work on his computer."

Alvin flashes Knox a look that only he could decipher, not wanting to verbally give anything away while his company is around.

"Since you don't plan on participating, can you kindly shut the fucking door? My dick is gearing up for round three and my girl ain't into that exhibitionist shit."

Knox doesn't waste his breath on a response.

He closes the door and continues on his way, making Mason's bedroom his second stop.

This time, he knocks.

"Hey, man. You're right on time," Mason says after opening the door.  "Pres just called for church. We can head there together while I fill you in on the news."

He steps outside and locks the door behind him.

With the kind of shit that he gets into for the club, every single member could go under if his computers ever fell into the wrong hands.

Not implying that he doesn't trust his brothers but more so the naughty company they keep.

"What news? And when did he call for a meeting?" Knox asks as they walk.

"The news I tried to tell you about earlier today when you were all hugged up with the kid," Mason smirks. "Pres just sent a text to everyone about a minute ago. You didn't get it?"

Knox shakes his head, ignoring the teasing remark.

"I forgot and left my phone back in the room. Tell me more about this news of yours."

"I know it's been a while since you last checked in but I finally got into that damn USB. Pres was so impressed that he ended up paying me double for the job," Mason says.

He cracks his knuckles as if he'd just finished working the world's toughest shift.

"The Jackals are fully exposed, man. More than they've ever been before. And now that their secrets are in our hands, if we play this the right way, we can put an end to them for good."

"Keep talking," Knox says, intrigued. "What secrets do we have of theirs?"

"All of them." Mason grins something wicked, looking exactly like an evil villain that succeeded in taking out the hero. "Okay, so check this out..."

Knox gives Mason his undivided attention during their walk to the basement.

Apart from the underground brothel that the state knows nothing about, The Jackals also run a construction business.

But like most MCs, it's used as a front for washing money gained from their illegal activities.

That much is neatly documented inside a lengthy excel sheet on the USB, along with a list of people, some being high-ranking officials, that The Jackals have done and currently do business with.

Many of them are married yet remain frequent patrons of their brothel.

"Some of the shit on there is prime blackmail material," Mason explains, excitement dripping all over his tone. "The son of the goddamn mayor goes to that brothel every other week. Do you realize how many strings we could pull by having the mayor's son in our pocket?"

Knox merely grunts in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"What did Pres say when you first told him all this?"

"Not much," Mason replies. "He wanted to call a meeting to tell everyone else about it and get their input. I've already told him my stance. It doesn't matter what The Jackals were planning on doing with the USB that night. It's in our possession now, so we need to work on flipping their clients. We have to..."

"Slow your roll, brother." Knox chuckles, clapping Mason on the back. "Save that shit for the meeting. What else did you find in that thing?"

"Right. Well, there are also tons of..."

Documents that contain information and transactions related to The Jackals clients, plus those overseas.

It includes street names of gun suppliers, drug lords, and how much money The Jackals earn in exchange for doing business with them.

Money that could become The Fallen Angels if, like Mason said, they successfully flip The Jackals clients.

The greatest discovery, however, has to be the sheet titled SCHEDULE.

Covering the next thirty days, it lists the time and location for all local and international jobs The Jackals plan on executing.

Jobs connected to some very dangerous people but in turn will result in glorious payouts.

"They're going to make a move tonight," Mason finishes. "A shipment of weapons is supposed to arrive sometime around ten at that old dock by Hickory Springs. Under the assumption they think we haven't been able to get into the USB, we can intercept and take the weapons for ourselves. Flip them and sell them for double the price."

"And then we become the target of their supplier," Knox adds, shaking his head. "It's too risky. We first need to get rid of The Jackals before we go pissing off their partners."

"Point made. But we could always take the weapons and then present them to the supplier. Make a case for ourselves that The Jackals are incompetent and explain why they should do business with us instead," Mason suggests. "You think Pres would go for something like that?"

"We'll find out soon enough," Knox says. 

[cozy-kitty-corner]

Whumptober Day 2 - short story as a fic for Trigun. Not in the fandom, but requested for my friend(I’m aware this isn’t really SBI but it fits)

Day 1: I just made it to college today. Hopefully I won’t have to deal with an annoying roommate. They’ll probably be getting here tomorrow. I have orientation at 7:30 tomorrow, this college fucking sucks…

Day 2: My roommate got here today. His name is Knives. He took over most of the room immediately, there’s no space for my things. I don’t think I can even study like this, he’s been here for 5 hours and hasn’t turned off his music once. And it’s 22:00. And to make it worse, he’s some sort of school celebrity… his parents have money or something

Day 5: I don’t know how long I can deal with this, I’ve asked him to turn off his music multiple times, I have to clean up after him constantly to keep this place from being a radioactive site, I don’t get any privacy because of all of the people he brings back to the dorm… I’m going to fail all of my classes if things keep going like this.

Day 15: I found a place to study in the library, and I haven’t seen anyone else there. Hopefully I’ll be able to exist there in peace, seeing as this guy pretty much follows me everywhere I go. It’s a little hidden library room, and at least one person has to know it’s there, seeing as there’s a hamster in there.

Day 28: It’s been almost a month with this guy, and every second of it that I’ve spent around him has been hell. To make matters worse, I have some sort of cold… my lungs hurt constantly. On the bright side, I’ve decided to name the hamster Meryl. She likes me.

Day 43: My cold hasn’t gone away, it’s only getting worse. And it feels like I can’t stop thinking about this guy, he’s horrible, I hate him I hate him I hate him. I hate how he looks so stupidly perfect all the time, I hate how everyone loves him, I hate how he never worries, I hate how he *never cares.*

Day 50: I can’t believe it’s almost been two months. Meryl is the only thing keeping me sane at this point.

Day 51: Meryl is gone. Knives is allergic to hamsters, and he followed me to the room when my side of our dorm kept giving him allergic reactions. I want to kill him. And my chest hurts constantly.

Day 62: I coughed up blood today. It had Hyacinth and Marigold petals mixed in… but it doesn’t matter, I might actually be able to kill Knives.

Day 66: I got excused from class today. It doesn’t bother me, I want to know how Knives looks with his namesake drawing lines of blood across his chest.

Day 70: I tried to go to class today, because I was feeling a bit better. They sent me to the nurse after I collapsed trying to lift a water bottle. Knives checked in on me today. He said he wanted to check that I was doing on, and that he was worried. I don’t know what he thinks his lies will achieve. I threw up an entire flower head today. There were thorns on it.

Day 73: My throat is being torn apart. I can barely breathe.

Day 78: Knives broke my lamp today. I’m going to kill him.

Day 80: I’m in a classroom right now. I can barely move my hand, but I have to write this last entry. There are flowers in my lungs. There are flowers in my lungs and Knives is bleeding from 3 stab wounds in his leg. I can’t move enough to prevent him from putting a torniquet on it. I hope he dies like the verm

Day 80 - Knives: Wolfwood is dead. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me, but he is. He screamed something about flowers at me, and threw some up after he stabbed me. I don’t know what’s happening anymore.

[caponstandbi]

Grad school meditations ft. denim couch

cw: suicidal ideation

I have this denim couch. Most of my friends know about it, because anyone who comes over sits on it and realizes it’s the most welcoming, comfortable piece of furniture to ever exist in this world. It is the kindness of being wrapped in a pair of your oldest, softest jeans. My parents gave me this couch after owning it for as long as I can remember. My brother has its matched set. Sometimes we joke that we should be able to each sit on our denim couch and see the other one there, like the two halves of the couch and the two halves of us should align. It’s not a magic couch or anything, it’s just the strongest memory I have of my family. I sit on it and remember how it feels just like my dad’s work jeans. I remember my mom showing me how to get stains out of anything, including denim. I remember my brother, laughing as he’s curled up on one end and I’m on the other. I love this couch.

I almost died this year. I am still alive because of a denim couch.

I spent months in a constant state of almost throwing myself off the bridge I crossed every day, stopping only because I wasn’t sure it would work, and because there was some part of me that knew that once I hit the water, I would swim. 

My parents are old. I will be lucky if they are still alive, sane, and fit in ten years. To have old parents is to watch them downsize, edit their wills, prepare for their demise. My mother calls me as she is cleaning out the attic, getting rid of things they’ve had for years, because “it would be horrible to die and leave this all to you, wouldn’t it? We’d be a burden after death.”  This is what her parents did, and she is bitter but she is right. There is a horrible logistics of death. A person is gone, and there is a body. But there is also their stuff. All the big and little things they loved and hated. My parents’ high school yearbooks. My grandmother’s tacky costume jewelry. They die, and we have it like some horrible anchor. My parents look death in the face and sell their things to wait. To take up less space. 

And this is why I do not die. I thought about it constantly. How, when, where. But first, I must be realistic. I can’t just off myself. That is, above all, very rude. Just as my parents refuse to leave me with their stuff, I cannot leave them with mine. I am a horrible burden to them now. The goal is to be less of a burden is death. At first, this is easy. Most of my things are easily sellable, or given to goodwill. I have basic furniture, books that can go to a used bookstore. 

But I know, with a sudden, awful certainty, that I cannot sell my couch. I cannot do it. That couch is all the love I was ever given, woven tight. I cannot look at it without loving my family so much that I don’t want to die, even with I can’t think of a single thing worth living for. I sit on that couch and cry, knowing that I’m stuck staying alive until I am brave(?) enough to sell it. Knowing that I never will be.

This happens several times. Each time I start to plan, start to lay out logistics cool and hard, I am stopped by my stupid denim couch. My brother is there, his feet dangling over one arm. My mother is there, patching a hole. My father is there, hands spread wide against the fabric. I am trapped in a horrible half-life, a miserable burden to everyone I know, and I am completely alone. Except for the damn couch. It’s the stupidest possible breaking point. 

So I live. Nothing good or noble about it. 

I am better now, kind of. Anchored to life by a couch. I do actually want to live, way more than I want to die. It rarely gets dire enough that I have to think about selling my couch. These days, my brain tells me, “Don’t be silly. We’re never, ever selling that thing.”

It is the strangest things that keep you alive.

[theloveinc]

I’m literally just so fucking sick of have a dirty room

[greenstudies]

How to survive finals

I just finished my first college finals and let me tell you I didn’t have a good time. I did learn a few valuable lessons in my suffering and so here I come sharing them with you so you don’t need to learn stuff the hard way.

Passing your finals isn’t worth sacrificing your health -You may get carried away with anxiety and just go down the wrong path. You stop taking care of yourself, you promise yourself that the next study session will have breaks and you will take better care of youself next time. NO! You will take care of yourself now! You need to make your health a priority. Always. Bad health will ruin your life and might make your studies so much more difficult in the future. Keep yourself healthy and sane

Breaks aren’t negotiable -It might seem like you’ll get more done without breaks but you’re wrong (and you know it too). Your brain will not accept the information you give to it and all the time invested will not be worth it. With breaks you spend less time studying while learning more!

Start early -This one is more difficult than it seems and for some people it might be impossible. But if you can, it’ll really help to get a head start. You might simply start a week early or study through the semester. Not seeing the materials for the first time before the exams helps significantly!

Keep your notes and materials somewhat organised -By the end of the finals month, I was drowning in disorganised papers, not being able to figure out where all my materials are. All my notes were useless because I just didn’t know where they are. It sounds funny now but it wasn’t funny then... Try to keep all your materials in folders at least.

Don’t add too much to your to do list -Try to figure out how much you can actually get done in a day and then stick to that amount no matter how much work you have overall. You won’t be able to do insane amounts of work in a day and long ass to do list will only stress you out.

Reward yourself at the end of every intense study session -Working with no rewards will get way more exhausting way quicker. I recommend some fun activity as the best reward. I like to make time to play video games or watch something after every intense day

Move your body -I don’t know how to make you understand that this one is one of the most important tips I can give you. PLEASE DO NOT NEGLECT YOUR BODY! Exam time at my college is over a month long and that really took a toll on my body. Make sure to walk, work out and stretch at least multiple times a week.

You need to sleep enough -If the importance of resting isn’t enough for you as a reason on its own, then I have another: sleep is when your memory saves the information. If you don’t sleep well, you won’t remember what you learnt as well and you’ll need to study longer

Stay social -Loneliness is a bitch and it’ll make you feel more stressed than you need to be. Also seeing others struggle in the same way you do can be quite calming and bonding experince. You’re not alone in this and you have to remind yourself.

Get as much help as you can -You don’t have to do things alone. I’m someone who’s afraid to ask for help and I pay for this flaw every damn time. Help people out and ask for help back. They won’t mind helping.

Keep your space clean -Cluttered or dirty space will add to your stress. Take the time to keep your surroundings pleasant to be in.

You can’t learn it all and it’s normal -Make conscious choices when it comes to the work you’re doing. You can’t learn and remember everything so choose what you study carefully. You’ll end up learning better the important stuff instead of memorising meaningless details.

I wish you all the best in the upcoming exam time and have a nice day! If you have any extra tips I didn’t mention, feel free to add on and help others out.

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation. 

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step. 

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true.  Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident. 

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second. 

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high. 

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was. 

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about. 

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds. 

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you. 

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy. 

Jungkook was anything but ordinary. 

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught. 

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods. 

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted. 

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not. 

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped. 

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you. 

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal. 

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school. 

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did. 

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things. 

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him. 

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse. 

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief. 

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -” 

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return. 

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you. 

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing. 

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you. 

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face. 

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It  turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes. 

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan. 

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step. 

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did. 

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit. 

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction. 

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize. 

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go. 

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter? 

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand. 

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting. 

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw. 

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform)  with every step he took. 

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain. 

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair. 

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction. 

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room. 

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook. 

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook. 

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class. 

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack. 

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack. 

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile. 

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be. 

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag. 

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind. 

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much? 

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell. 

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it. 

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them. 

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?” 

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own. 

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead. 

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face. 

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”  

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times. 

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move. 

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes. 

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection. 

At least the seat was warm. 

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow. 

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again. 

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction. 

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks. 

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’” 

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile? 

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction. 

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled. 

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair. 

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long. 

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked. 

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept. 

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass. 

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape. 

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder. 

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option. 

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus. 

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest. 

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world. 

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you. 

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune. 

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray. 

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud. 

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later. 

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face. 

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder. 

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips. 

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant. 

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely. 

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline. 

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention. 

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape. 

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him. 

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready. 

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons. 

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod. 

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence. 

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you. 

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave. 

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process. 

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed. 

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment. 

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead. 

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.” 

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him. 

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could. 

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence. 

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day. 

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft. 

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech. 

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a  mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame. 

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil. 

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did. 

Your solution? It was ingenious, really. 

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped. 

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find. 

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him. 

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you. 

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help. 

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath. 

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened. 

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you. 

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet. 

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you. 

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly. 

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it. 

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy. 

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks. 

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said. 

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar. 

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable. 

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl. 

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud. 

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself. 

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit. 

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing. 

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter. 

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud. 

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body. 

You wanted to murder him. 

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you. 

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two. 

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing . 

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess. 

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student. 

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little. 

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute. 

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face. 

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek. 

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind. 

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different. 

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face. 

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips. 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head. 

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it. 

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless. 

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back. 

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out. 

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless. 

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests. 

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you. 

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other. 

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory. 

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.” 

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips. 

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder. 

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked. 

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real. 

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years. 

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it. 

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition. 

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!” 

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side. 

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.” 

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.” 

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek. 

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll. 

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.” 

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him. 

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box. 

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude. 

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time. 

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips. 

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked. 

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one. 

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along. 

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

[drabbles-mc]

All Mine

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by Anon: If you are taking them, I have a request! The reader and EZ are best friends and she is close to Angel who secretly loves her. But once EZ joins the MC and the reader hangs around more, Angel gets jealous of EZ because she is hanging out with him, not knowing the reader is in love with Angel. Angel becomes distant from her but she stops by his place to talk to him because she misses him and so much possessive smut, bruises, hickeys 🥵 I love your writing and wanted to request ❤️

Warnings: language, angst, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of bodily fluids (male + female), unprotected sex

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I was just thinking that I need to write something for Angel soon and this request was perfect for that so thank you. Got some backstory and buildup to really get the angsty vibes going before we get to the smut. As someone who is a big fan of hickeys and the like this request really spoke to me lmao. Hope you guys enjoy!! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @helli4nthus​ @angelreyesgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​​ @yourwonkywriter​​ @sesamepancakes​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @plentyoffandoms​​ @georgiaaintnopeach​​ @twistnet​​ @amandinesblogofstuff​​ @garbinge​​ @bucky-iss-bae​​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing don’t hesitate to let me know, I’ll add you to the list!)

If there was anything that could be said about being friends with the Reyes brothers, it was that it was never boring. You’d all been friends for a long time, having gone through life together from high school on. You and EZ had been in the same grade and became best friends almost instantly, and it was difficult to be friends with EZ without also being roped into a friendship with his brother, too. Not that you minded—the three of you always managed to have a good time together.

And the friendship you had formed with Angel was pivotal when EZ was shipped off to Stockton. Never boring didn’t always mean fun. But the two of you kept each other sane throughout the whole ordeal. You’d always gotten along well, but in those years that EZ was away you and Angel really fell into a flow with each other. You were practically living over at his place. The couch always had blankets and pillows on it for you just in case you stopped in and stayed the night, which happened more and more frequently as time went on, especially on nights after you took the time to go visit EZ. You wondered why Angel didn’t go as often, but you knew better than to pull at those strings. Even though you knew a lot about the Reyes brothers and their family, you were also aware that there were a lot of things that you weren’t privy to, and you respected that.

You’d gotten good at patching Angel up, physically and emotionally. Whether he was coming home busted up from whatever was happening with the club, or you came over to find him a drunken emotional mess because of what life had put him through, you had slowly but surely figured out how to help him through it. Your first-aid skills improved a lot in the years that EZ was away.

And, somewhere along the way, you’d fallen in love with Angel in the mess of it all. There wasn’t an exact moment where you could pinpoint that it happened. But spending all that time together, getting each other through the rough patches and celebrating together in the good times, really carved out a space in your heart that was reserved just for Angel Reyes. You kept that to yourself, though. You knew that if he felt the same way at all, he would’ve said something or made a move of some kind. It stung sometimes, but you knew that having him in your life as a best friend was preferable to not having him at all.

“He’s coming home next week,” he said, trying to ignore the pain of you cleaning out a cut he’d gotten above his eyebrow.

You nodded, trying to keep your excitement levels down, “I know,” you leaned back to get a better look at his whole face, “How are you feeling about that?”

He nodded, “’S better than him staying in fuckin’ prison.”

You chuckled, “That’s true,” you paused, knowing that there was a lot more going through his mind about it, “You talk to the club about everything?”

He cringed as you swabbed the gash with medical alcohol, “Yea.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “You fuckin’ know,” he let you cup his chin to hold his head still as you pressed a bandage onto his cut, “He’s meant for more than this shit. I don’t get why he wants to come back to Santo Padre at all, let alone get tied down with the fuckin’ club.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, “It seems to work well for you.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, “Don’t say that like EZ and I are capable of the same things, querida. You’re smarter than that.”

You sighed, leaning back and resting your hands in your lap, “Your cut should be fine. If it starts oozing anything you can sue me for malpractice,” you let the EZ topic drop, knowing it was a bit of an exposed nerve and probably would be for some time.

He chuckled, “Thanks. I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” he stood up, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to pull something together for dinner.

The days dragged on as you waited for EZ to come home. Once there was a definitive end-date to his stint in Stockton, time seemed to move slower. You’d been spending more time around the clubhouse in general, but you knew that if both Angel and EZ were going to get involved with the club, you were going to need to get comfortable with all of it. You knew that you weren’t going to get to be in the know about everything, but you didn’t want to be a stranger either, or just “that girl who is always hanging out with the Reyes brothers”. The guys really didn’t seem to mind. You all got along well enough, and having the endorsement of being a close friend of Angel’s certainly didn’t hurt. It was a relief, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to know that you had a team of backup if something ever got that bad. Angel would go to the end of the earth for you, but having a small army never hurt.

You’d been cautiously optimistic about what life was going to be like when EZ was back home again. You loved him and you missed him, but you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same exact person coming back that he was when he went away. No one comes out after that much time the same. But in all of your visits, you could feel that he was still EZ in all the ways that mattered. He was just going to need time to adjust, to figure things out, to get his feet back underneath him. And that was exactly what you were there for.

He fell into things rather easily with the club. You knew that Angel was still conflicted about it, but there was no going back on it now. EZ was officially a prospect and Angel was officially his sponsor. No amount of deep sighs and eye rolls was going to undo that. The club was accepting of him, but they were still vetting him thoroughly. You couldn’t necessarily blame them, but you knew who EZ was and it made you a little biased.

EZ was open with you about what he was going through, and you were glad that the two of you hadn’t lost that over the years. He needed some consistency, some kind of anchor in the midst of all of the chaos, which was a role that you were more than happy to fill.

Late nights at Angel’s apartment started to give way to late nights at EZ’s trailer. You still saw the both of them a lot, one of the benefits of hanging out at the clubhouse whenever you could. But you knew that EZ needed some extra one-one-one time and you weren’t going to rob him of that because you had gone and let yourself fall in love with his brother.

You figured that Angel would be glad that EZ had someone in his corner. You knew that things were a little tense between them sometimes because of the club and you didn’t have any of that baggage to carry. You assumed that Angel would be happy to know that his little brother was being cared for by someone who really knew him and gave a shit about him. But it didn’t really feel that way.

EZ was on the opposite side of the bar from you, stacking the last few cases of beer that had gotten delivered that day. The two of you were laughing as you told him about some of the stupidity that was going on at your job. The laughter was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both turned to see Angel standing there, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Pres needs you in Templo for a few minutes, Prospect.”

EZ nodded, wiping his hands off on his jeans, “Alright,” he walked around to the other side of the bar, giving your shoulder a nudge as he walked past you, “Don’t let anyone rob the joint while I’m in there.”

You laughed and shoved him towards the sliding glass door, “Hope they’re not kicking you out.” Despite the fact that EZ was making his way to the room, Angel lingered back for a moment. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say something to you, “All good?”

He shrugged, nodding, “All good,” the expression on his face said otherwise but you didn’t get to push it as he turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

You were still there when the meeting was over, not that it took very long. Everyone dispersed in their own directions. Angel flagged his brother down, saying something quietly into his ear, eyes only darting over to you for a moment before he clapped EZ on the back and walked out of the clubhouse without coming over to say anything to you. EZ walked over, unaware of everything you were noticing and feeling.

He plopped down on the stool next to you, “Movie night?”

You nodded, smiling, “Absolutely.”

About halfway through the movie your mind was somewhere else entirely. Before you were able to censor yourself, you blurted out, “Is Angel mad at me?”

EZ looked over at you, clearly confused. He paused the movie, “Mad at you?”

You nodded, “Yea. He’s barely been talking to me the past couple of weeks and when he does it just feels…different.”

EZ shrugged, “If he is, he hasn’t said anything to me. I doubt it’s that, though. He’s been stressed with all the shit going on with the club lately. He might just accidentally be taking it out on you.”

You gnawed at the inside of your lip, wanting to believe him but not quite sure that you did, “Yea, probably.”

The next few days went by and it was more of the same. You felt like you were trying to drag a conversation out of Angel and he was coming up with excuse after excuse to dodge you. You tried not to let it get to you, but it was difficult. After everything, he was icing you out. And even despite that, your heart still sped up every time you saw him, hoping that he would walk over and things would go back to how they’d been for the last few years.

So you found yourself outside the door to Angel’s house. You knocked on the door for the first time in years—you never used to feel like you had to. But now everything felt off and you didn’t feel quite as welcome as you did before.

A few moments later you heard a scuffling from the other side of the door before it opened. Angel was in his jeans and a tank top, hair a mess, and your heart skipped a couple beats in your chest. You cleared your throat, “Can I come in?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything as he moved to the side so you could walk inside. You toed off your shoes and part of you wanted to plop down on the couch the same way you had so many times before, but you fought the urge. You did notice, though, that there was still the small pile of blankets and pillows taking up one end of the couch. It gave you a small sliver of hope.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, standing in front of you in the middle of his living room.

“I just came over to talk…to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he scoffed, shaking his head, “No pressing plans with Boy Scout tonight?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” your words were angry but the look in your eyes was anything but—everything just hurt.

“You just use me to pass the time till he got back out?” he looked like he was on the brink of tears, “Just come over here to fill the Reyes void until the Golden Boy was back?”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“You! Us!” he snapped. The word us hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t force out any words, so Angel continued, “You spend all this time comin’ over here, making me think that you actually give a shit about me, makin’ me fa—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “Then you just fucking drop me. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

“Angel,” there was a slight tremor to your voice, “your brother just got out of prison. Figured he might need a little extra support for a while. Why is that putting such a bug up your ass?” you saw him go to say something but you held your hand up to stop him, “And just so we’re painting the full fucking picture here—you’ve been dodging me. Every time I try to talk to you, you suddenly have something else to do, somewhere else to be. This is the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks and it’s only happening because I came banging on your fucking door,” you wiped away tears that you hadn’t even felt before that moment, “Sorry you haven’t gotten my undivided attention, but that’s just life sometimes, Angel. And, fuck,” you shook your head, “even though you’ve been acting like a real dick lately, I’ve still missed you.”

“I’m so fucking sick of coming in second place, Y/N.”

You stepped to him, looking up at him, “You’re not in second place. There are no places. That’s all up here,” you reached up and pressed the pad of your finger to his temple.

He gently placed his hand over yours, completely enveloping it, “I can’t handle you getting sick of me, forgetting about me,” his eyes met yours, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

You felt a lump forming in the back of your throat, “Then why are you shutting me out?”

He shook his head slightly, hand still clasping yours, “Easier leaving than getting left.”

“I was never leaving you, Angel,” your voice was barely a whisper, “And I’m not going to.”

He closed his eyes, leaning down so his forehead against yours. He took a deep, unsteady breath, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you.”

You smiled, bringing your other hand up so you were cupping both sides of his face as you pulled back a little, “You’ve got a really shitty way of showing it.”

He laughed, shaking his head before pressing a kiss against your palm, “Will you let me show it in a better way?”

Your heart was pounding inside your chest as you nodded. He instantly pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. One hand fell to the small of your back while the other rested on the back of your neck, keeping you as close to him as he could. Your knees felt weak as you melted into him.

He pressed the tips of his fingers harder into the back of your neck and you could feel the neediness seeping from his body into yours. You draped your arms over his shoulders, getting lost in the feeling of the way his lips moved in-sync with yours. A soft moan slipped out as he bit down on your lip.

He pulled his lips away from yours, letting you both catch your breath. He still had you wrapped up in his arms and you smiled, placing a gentle kiss on his jawline, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you too.”

With a quiet laugh he scooped you up off the floor, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. With what seemed like no effort at all, he whisked you down the hall to his bedroom. You laughed as he let you drop a few inches from his arms onto the mattress, a smile on his face as he situated himself between your legs, hovering over your torso with his lips hardly an inch from yours.

“You mean it?” you asked in a whisper as you reached up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been falling in love with me.”

He nodded, his voice as soft as yours, “Every word,” he leaned down and kissed your temple before bringing his lips right next to your ear, “I just wanna make you mine.”

Your body trembled at the sound of his words. You let your eyes drift shut as what he said washed over you. “Do it,” your voice was hardly audible, “Make me yours.”

You felt him hum in approval, the vibrations against your neck sending a chill through your body. He attached his lips to yours, cupping one side of your face in his hand. You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, and you felt him smile into your kiss. He pressed his lips hard against yours for a moment before he slid them down to your neck. His hands slid down your sides, resting on your hips as he bit down onto your neck. You moaned as he sucked on the sensitive skin there. He brought his lips to the other side of your neck to do the same thing as he pushed your hips down to the bed, effectively unhooking your legs as his hands started to undo the button and zipper of your jeans.

He pulled your jeans down, tossing them off to the side before hopping off the bed just long enough to undo his belt and push his jeans down to the floor. Once the denim pooled at his ankles he stepped out of them and was right back on top of you again, pulling your shirt off over your head as you reached and did the same to him.

He kissed you as his hands roamed all over your body, touching every exposed inch, every single curve. His tongue met yours as he gripped tight onto your hips. You moaned as he began to grind against you. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as he pulled out of your kiss, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as he did.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he kissed you lightly on the lips as his fingers looped around the waistband of your underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs.

He left a long trail of kisses and love-bites down your chest, stomach, and thighs. He draped your legs over his shoulders and you let out a shaky breath as he grazed his teeth along the inside of your thigh, biting down ever-so lightly before moving his lips between your legs. A moan fell from your lips the second he pressed his mouth against you, your hands instantly tangling themselves in his hair. You felt the vibrations against you as he chuckled at how quickly you became so needy. Every single thing he did felt perfect. The sound of you moaning his name filled the house as his tongue continued to explore every part of you.

He pulled his lips away from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He smiled up at you as he slowly slid his fingers into you, turning your whimper into a moan. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders, nails setting into his skin as you cursed under your breath. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly began to pump his fingers in and out of you, reveling in the fact that he was the one marking you up and putting that look of pure bliss onto your face.

You arched your back slightly when you felt him bite down onto your thigh, “Fuck, Angel, don’t stop.”

His voice was raspy, “You gonna cum for me, querida?”

“Y-yes,” you almost didn’t get the word out as you felt his mouth begin to work along with his fingers. Your legs tightened around his head, thighs clenching as you got closer to your orgasm, “Fuck, Angel,” you cried as you came.

He slid up to you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Your fingers trailed through his beard, feeling your wetness as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself off of his lips and tongue and you were about to get lost in that sensation alone until you felt him pressing against your entrance. You rested your hands on his hips and pulled him closer to you, both of you moaning as he slowly slid into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, soaking up how he felt inside you.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered as he slowly started to move his hips, “You’re so perfect for me.”

You knew there was no way to be closer to him than you were, but you wished that there was. You wrapped your legs around him again and cupped his face so you could kiss him as he thrust into you. He braced his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned into you. you slid your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down against you as you sank your teeth into the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

You heard him curse and you smiled as you placed a kiss on top of the bitemark, “You’re mine now, too, Angel.”

He pulled away from you so he could look you in the eyes, “Say that again.”

You gently traced the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, “You’re mine, Angel Reyes.”

His lips crashed into yours as he picked up his speed. He couldn’t get enough of you, hands grabbing at whatever they could to try and keep you closer to him. You felt his rhythm start to falter—he gripped tightly onto your hips as he thrust hard into you a few more times before quickly pulling out of you before he came.

He collapsed onto your chest with a sigh. You let out a tired laugh as you lazily trailed your fingers through his hair, both of you attempting to catch your breath and get your hearts down to a reasonable speed. You could feel the reverberations of his chest against yours and in that moment you were sure that there no better feeling in the world. His fingers lightly traced over your skin and all you could think about was the fact that his touch felt like home. You let your eyes drift shut for a few moments as he peppered your neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

He shifted so he was laying on his side next to you, staring at you with a starry look in his eyes. You smiled over at him, rolling onto your side as well, “What’re you thinking?”

He smiled, kissing you gently on the lips, “That I love you.”

You felt your face get hot as you touched your forehead to his, “Yea? Good. ‘Cause I love you too.”

He laughed as he rolled and pulled you with him so that you were laying on top of him, your chest pressed against his, “No going back on that now, you know.”

You let your fingers dance down the side of his face, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / modern vikings au, Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note: long story short, I wrote this series but used an OFC that I use for most of my longer series. many thanks to @victoria-styles for her suggestion of making it a reader / Y/N story. major plot tweaks as well.

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend: you.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✎

“Not into the million dollar bullshit?” You heard a voice beckon from behind you, stepping forwards with a light to start the cigarette that hung between your Oxford red stained lips.

“Crawling through the depths of hell sounds more pleasant than being here,” You grumbled back through the cloud of grey smoke slipping past your lips. You watched the figure next to you light up his own cigarette, taking note at how his fingers curled around the stick as he laughed with your words. “I’m only here to calm Hvitserk,”

“And he’s not even here,” He said back with a laugh, blue eyes peeking to grab at yours.

“Structure fire across town,” You tell him. “Told him that if he’s so inclined he can bring the truck over here and spray the party with the water,” Ivar laughed at that.

“Fuck, you clean up nice. And I love a woman in uniform,” He teases, smirking as you do too. It went silent for a second between you two, sticks of chemicals on your lips as his eyes did not miss the way your dress hugged at your body, how your stilettos were secured around your ankles. He couldn’t pull his mind back quickly enough before he was imagining them over his shoulders, your lips that curled around the filter and how they might look around his cock. How you were the first person who gave him complete reign over the ink he was going to forever mark your body with.

“Let’s just say I’d rather slice my own tongue off and choke on it than admit to that, actually wearing something other than the blues, and enjoying it,” You groan as the man next to you laughs, a sick snicker coming from his lips and you find yourself smiling too. “But you don’t clean up half bad yourself, Ivar,” You tease back as your eyes catch sight of the roll of his sleeves, how he maneuvers the buttons and pulls the white fabric back to show the first indications of sleeved out arms.

“Where do you want to go?” Ivar asks, taking the cigarette from his mouth to stub.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t think I fucking stuttered,” He started in challenge. “You said you didn’t want to be here, so where would you like to go?” He asks a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips as he cocks his head to the side awaiting your answer.

“Alright, Ragnarsson, you’re fucking on,” You laugh back, crushing your own stick with the spike of your heel as you follow him.

*

Hvitserk was a man who took most things with a grain of salt, others came with a few shots of whiskey. He had seen the darker side of humanity, and you were right there with him when he did. Your interest in becoming certified for emergency medicine had followed you since your high school graduation, and you were right on the top of the sign up sheet when class enrolled. And you stayed on top when your graduated. Company firings and how it lead to short staffing, moving of some onto better things lead to an opening you leapt on and found yourself paired with a paramedic with blonde hair and a smile that could cause most of the human population to smile back. It did not take long for a friendship to strike up, even outside of the station and the blazing sirens. His humor, his companionship kept you sane, kept the darkness of the horrid calls at bay, you two grew close, quickly.

Even if company policy allowed the romantic attachments between co-workers, you still couldn’t find yourself catching some sort of feeling to Hvitserk. He was a friend, your best, and it was left at that. You trusted him with your life, you’d gladly lay on the stretcher and head into the emergency room as long as he was the paramedic who was treating you.

Sigurd came next in the line of his brothers, an obsession with music, and nothing but the best that world could offer. He had an artistic hand, Hvitserk drove you towards his place of employment for permanent artwork to your liking and that was how you met Ivar. He watched you tip toe through his portfolio, but if Sigurd had talent, then Ivar was a God. You had never seen such movement on skin where he would trace his ink. You didn’t want to pull a design off of the internet and ask Ivar to put in on you, it seemed almost rude, instead you told him where you wanted it, and told him to go crazy. He looked at you in such a way, thinking you were joking. Perhaps too un-educated in the world of tattoos, but you held your ground and he was proud of such a feat.

Work was all too consuming, trying to leave space for time other than the blood pressure cuffs and patient history. You’d spend time out on town with Hvitserk, his brothers soon in tow, a party of their own that they could become. You were shocked Hvitserk hadn’t caught on, that none of them had, how long you had been spreading your legs for Ivar in secret. Petty bantering between the two of you, the others making bets to see whom would kill whom first, but that chatter went towards the foreplay that would follow you two into the bedroom. The most shock you came to realize was how Ivar was always there in the morning—it took a lot of you to convince him to leave, but he always mumbled something about five more minutes just for holding you.

Perhaps it was how your days were spent doused in testosterone, one of the three women of the entire station, entire company, leaving you to be able to handle yourself around men with egos far bigger than the dicks they would carry. That was how you were so seamlessly integrated into the Ragnarsson brother’s, struck up like the sister they never got. That was how Ivar found himself thinking about you far more than a friend with or without benefits would, how tightly you snug around his cock, how you look and sounded when you came for him, how you had pulled more from him than any other woman he had slept with. How you made him feel appreciated and not like a man who needed to navigate himself with his dick to get what women he wanted. How you didn’t toss him to the side after the first fuck. You drove him crazy and he didn’t have the words to admit to it.

“If I hear a grumble from you one more time Ivar, I am going to kick you out of the shop,” Sigurd spoke from his spot at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine of industry products as Ivar hissed a curse at him in reply. “What the fuck is you problem?”

“Y/N,” Ivar answered all too quickly.

“What? She hurt your ego too bad last time we were out? Didn’t stroke it enough to your liking?” Sigurd teased.

“No,” Ivar said. “She didn’t stroke me enough to my liking,” But Ivar said the words far too quickly before he could catch them.

“Are you fucking her?” Sigurd said, sitting up in his chair. “You two are fucking?” He laughed.

“Shut up,” Ivar grumbled, a toss of his pencil flying to grace the space Sigurd was at.

“She cut your dick off? That the issue?” He teased. “Hvitserk’s going to go ape-shit, dude,”

“That’s why we’re not telling him yet, right Sigurd?” Ivar said “Right, Sigurd?” He repeated with an extended finger at his brother.

“How long have you two been fucking—I need to know that, for science, and because I am still in shock. How did you—her? She’s too good for you Ivar, you have to be careful there,”

“Two years,” Ivar remarked and Sigurd nearly fell out of his chair.

“Fuck! You ask her out yet?”

“We’re not talking about this—or telling anyone else, right?” Ivar said again.

“Yes, sir,” Sigurd nodded, a fake salute from his hand as his mind was still scrambled.

“Don’t call me sir,” Ivar snapped.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

You’d never forget the call that came through dispatch a month after you and Ivar had started to screw around more often than fuck buddies would. The address sounded familiar, but Hvitserk was the one who made the connection it was the shop. Ink Drinker was a parlor bathed in black; walls and dark floors that made the rooms look like they never ended. The art displayed belonged to that of Ivar, of Sigurd, of the few others who came and went for their tattoo work. The owner had wooden sculptures of his own to line the spaces, but you had only ever seen the man through his social media.

You feared suddenly something happening to Ivar, or Sigurd, readying yourself for the sight that may hold them there, but it wasn’t them. A patron had passed out to the sight of the needles, sending Ivar to sour his entire mood at the weakness for something he found so simple. His flash of anger changed suddenly when you and his brother showed up, jumping from the rig in full expectance to see either sibling in a bloody mess after fighting to their death.

“I called and specifically asked for Hvitserk Ragnarsson and his partner,” Sigurd teased as the teenager came too, apologizing and still paying Ivar for the appointment he was too scared to cancel.

“I was hoping it would be a trauma call, you finally snapping and kicking Ivar’s ass,” You answered back, smirking at Ivar as he rolled his eyes in distaste. Ivar’s eyes climbed your whole body as you worked, the uniform marking your hierarchy and importance as you took the patient to the hospital. His text message not ten minutes later almost made you head back just to smack him.

“You’re keeping the uniform on next time we fuck.”

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[jessefandomunited]

Hiiii for Peter Parker (andrew garfield 💕) could you please write something for a female reader set in the future (like they're in grad school or something) and have been together throughout university and Peter wants to pop the question 🥺 literally can't stop thinking about this man proposing -

I am so sorry this took so long, such an adorable idea and i’d happily do this for you. I hope very much that it was worth the wait!

University was ending all too soon and the anxiety of entering the actual world now was almost debilitating. Luckily I did an internship over the summer and the company liked me so much that they asked me to work for them once I graduated. Still the thought of bills, taxes, all that un-fun adult stuff that comes with growing up was now being thrust upon me all at once. Luckily , I still had your best friend Peter Parker. He really was the only thing keeping me sane, and vise versa. For instance , I was one of the only people who knew his secret identity , his double life. After school and on most weekends he was the one and only spiderman. Unfortunately with that came a few drawbacks, including injures and burnout. I was there though, I would tell him to take breaks when I could tell he was over exerting himself and tend to his wounds when he came back all bloody and broken. We were best friends, but I wanted to be so much more. I had gotten an apartment off campus the last year and we had been living together the past year, so I kind of got my wish. We would snuggle up during movie nights, I’d hold him while he cried about a person he was unable to save, help him study. In return he’d clean the house while I was gone, pick up coffee for morning classes, Hold me till I fell asleep when the nightmares got to me. I knew the issue, and her name is Gwen Stacy. He loved her and couldn’t save her, and it broke him. Now even the thought of relationships scared him. I gave him space because I knew this wasn’t easy for him but deep down I was aware I couldn’t go on like this forever. I wanted him to be mine so badly, and it looked like that’s not what he wanted, and while I didn’t want to give him an ultimatum , I did need to distance myself.

“ Hey, are you busy tonight,” Peter asked me as I stepped through the door. I was a bit shocked, it was one of his spiderman days and instead of his spidy suit he was in , an actual suit. “ Whats going on,” I asked a bit skeptical. “ I got invited to a very fancy party and there is no one I wanted to go with more than you,” He said with that grin that made my heart melt. I wanted to say no, but I couldn’t, this was the last time i swear, “ I’ll be ready in twenty minuets.”

I walked out in my favorite outfit, a red dress that clung snugly to my body and had a slit up the side. I had put on a simple make up look with deep red lipstick and had some simple jewelry that looked pricey but you actually got on amazon in bulk. Peters eyes widened and he began to look a bit flustered. “ You okay,” I said gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He nodded and patted his pockets frantically, “ yes, oh yeah you know me , I’m right as rain, cool as a cucumber .” I chuckled and rolled my eyes, “ ooookay.” He opened the door and we went out into the night.

As we walked to wherever this party was I tried my best to enjoy the moment. I focused on the witty banter, the cool wind on my neck, the dazzling stars, his smile, anything to distract me from the conversation we would have to have when it was all over. “ Hey , remember when we went on the carousel over here,” Peter laughed walking over to the dark carousel that stood in the middle of a beautiful park. I smiled and remembering how I insisted he needed to break out his inner child to relax a bit. We ended up riding it multiple times acting like it was a race. Some people thought we were drunk and we were asked to leave. “ yes , from my recollection I won that race.” “ I think we need a redo,” He insisted. “ Aren’t we going to be late for the party,” I questioned. He shook his head, “ we left early enough, come on.” I shrugged ,slipped off my heels, and hopped the small fence with him.

We both chose a horse and began yelling like we were race announcers, “ BLUE IS COMING UP BEHIND YELLOW, OH NO IT LOOKS LIKE THE END FOR THEM...WAIT LOOK AT THAT SKILL THE MOVES, YELLOW HAS TAKEN THE LEAD ONCE AGAIN AND AND YELLOW WINS!!!” We were both laughing so hard, I felt tears slide down my face and accidentally said out loud, “ why can’t life always be like this.” Peter froze and I blushed, “ sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He shook his head and helped me down off the horse and slowly led me to another side of the carousel that had a blanket spread out and was peppered with little fairy lights and flowers. “Peter...what,” I started but he shook his head bringing me to the center. “ I’ve been running for too long, trying everything In my power to stop any relationships from happening, thinking it be easier. It wasn’t. When you first talked to me in class I knew I’d never be able to stay away from you. You were too bubbly and helpful too beautiful. I decided that if I kept you close without any romance that that would let me protect you without you getting hurt. But, geez, i’ve fallen for you, and I know you have for me too. When you told me the first time it did scare me and it still scares me, but I can’t let you go, i’m sorry i’m selfish and I cant let you go.” Peter kneeled in front of me and my eyes welled up with tears, “ Peter..” “ Would you do me the honor of marrying me,” He asked softly pulling out a tiny box with the most gorgeous rose quartz ring you had ever seen. I bit my lip and nodded quickly, “ yes…. Yes a million times yes.” I tackled him in a hug and we fell to the ground giggling. He parted our embrace slightly, “ I love you so much.” I beamed ,” I love you too.” He smiled and gently pressed his lips against mine. I felt my heart pound in my chest, this is everything I wanted and more. When we parted again he placed the ring on my finger and we laid on the blanket , talking more animatedly now. “ There was no party was there,” I asked. “ No there is….what month did you want the wedding to be,” He smirked. I gently smacked his sholder and pulled him into another kiss.

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

Word count: 5976 Summary: After Lenora’s funeral, Arvin learns some news about her. Y/n and Arvin have sex for the first time and ends up being way past her curfew...

-

WARNINGS: SMUT, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK (mild), READER'S FIRST TIME

-

I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

No one knew about Arvin and I and we were keeping it for a different reason now. Not in case Lenora found out but to keep everyone else sane in this crazy time.

I had taken a week off school, helping the Russell's around the house with cooking, cleaning and some company. Emma was absolutely distraught, only coming out of bed when she needed the bathroom or needed to eat - even then it wasn't promised.

Ma was so busy with helping Daddy while I was busy helping the Russell's, we hardly got to see each other. But we both knew after the funeral things would calm down.

Arvin was handling his sister's death strangely. He wasn't sad. He didn't cry. He would go out on car rides, asking to be alone a lot of the time. I didn't know what he was doing and to be honest, I didn't want to know.

At night, once Earskell had went to bed and well after Emma had went to bed, we'd stay up, sitting outside on the patio in the old rocking chairs with some tea and listen to the radio quietly humming in the background. We wouldn't really speak much. We'd just be in each other's presence. We'd kiss. Then I'd go home.

But today was her funeral. I had a standard funeral outfit on: a black dress with tights and patent shoes with a black ribbon in my hair. I had been crying all day so my tears stained my cheeks and my eyes were red and puffy.

Emma was much the same as me while Arvin was trying to be strong for us, only a few tears leaving his eyes during the ceremony. He held me close to him, his hand just above the curve of my waist to not draw attention to us. We stood by together as Emma cried over her casket.

"Oh Lord, there's just some things we can't understand..."

She cried, kneeling to the floor and caressing the wood with her soft hands.

"But you take her into your arms..." She had to stop speaking because of her sobs.

I watched, tears falling from my face and I looked up at Arvin, rubbing my hand over his back softly. He stared numbly at the casket, only the ever-so-often squeeze of my waist indicating he was okay.

"Now I ain't somebody for sayin' prayers or..." Earskell talked, coughing and then clenching his jaw.

Arvin looked over to his Uncle and then removed his arm from around me, leaving me feeling cold without him. He slightly bent over and helped Emma to her feet, holding her by her arm and then wrapping his other arm back around me, this time on my waist.

"Let's go home." I said in almost a whisper.

Emma and everyone else nodded. I pulled away from Arvin and when he looked at me I looked back as if to say it was okay. He nodded slightly and helped his Grandma to the truck. I followed loosely behind the three of them, giving them some space to be with each other in the fresh air.

As I walked behind them through the grave yard I thought about everything.

What did she have to tell me? What happened with the preacher? Why was she so ashamed? Why did she want to end her own life?...

There were too many questions and none of them I could answer. I was supposed to be her best friend and I felt like I had let her down. I had let her down.

***

"I think it'll be real good if you went out for a night, Emma." I sighed, sitting next to her on her bed.

It had been a few days since the funeral and she was still lying in bed, only getting up for the bare minimum. Even for food she wasn't getting up for, which I was cooking each night.

"I don't have the energy, y/n." She croaked.

"I think you need a bath. And a nice new dress. And your hair did and your friends around you. There's a church day out at the beach on Saturday. I think you should go." I said with a smile.

She laughed lightly, "Honey, I hardly have five dollars to put together, how am I supposed to buy a new dress and get my hair done?"

A grin grew on my face, "Luckily I am here to help with that."

***

Saturday rolled around and I showed up early morning with two new dresses for Emma. She had gotten her hair done the day before and she was feeling a lot better. She showered and I met her in her room when she came out. I lay the two dresses on the bed and she looked in confusion.

"Pick your favourite and I'll see you in the living room." I smiled simply then left her room, closing the door behind me.

I waited in the living room with Arvin who was reading the newspaper, a cigarette bouncing between his lips and an ash tray.

"Ma asked for me to be home at 9 tonight." I said with a sigh.

Arvin looked up from the paper, "Really? That early?"

"Yeah. She does not like you." I groaned.

"Damn...I'm guessin' there's not much I can do about that, huh?"

"Not really...don't you have work today?" I asked.

"Only a small shift. Just gettin' back into it after the accident and then obviously..." He gulped.

"I know...well that'll be good." I smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready!" Emma called from her bedroom.

"Come on out!" I beamed, getting up from the couch.

She clicked down the hallway in her red kitten heels. I gasped with delight. She chose the poppy patterned dress that flowed lightly below her knees. It fit her perfectly. A silver cross hung over her clavicle and her hair was pinned up nicely.

"Emma Russell, you look absolutely divine!" I grinned.

She blushed, "Really? I do love this dress, I can't thank you enough y/n."

"It's no problem at all. I'm just glad you're feelin' better and havin' fun. You deserve it."

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Thanks, darlin'."

Arvin got up to drive her to the church and he complimented her with an embrace.

"I'll be back around 11pm. It's late but the girls are all hitchin' rides with the men after their poker."

"Well I'll be gone by 9 so I'll see you tomorrow? I hope you have fun, Emma." I hummed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much. Have fun!" She waved as Arvin opened the door for her.

We both watched as she and Earskell talked, going to the truck. Arvin closed the door slightly, leaning forward to me.

I giggled and cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. It was soft but meaningful. His hands lightly touched my waist before we both pulled away.

"Have a good day at work and drive safe, alright?" I said.

"Thanks, y/n. I'll see you later. Bye." He flashed me a smile before leaving the house.

And I was left for nearly a whole day by myself.

***

Arvin's POV

The working truck pulled up to the car park outside. I jumped off the end along with everyone else and we said our goodbyes. As I headed to the truck I saw an officer standing by, looking at me.

"Need to have a word with you, Arvin." He announced.

"About what?" I asked, standing a few yards from him.

"It's uh...it's about Lenora." He spoke awkwardly.

I took a deep breath and looked away for a second, "What about her?"

"I came by here instead of home so nothin's put on your grandmother-"

"Put on her? What do you mean?" I asked.

The officer removed his uniform hat which is never a good sign. He seemed awkward. He seemed nervous.

"Y'know old Dudley in the coroners? He's a drunk but...he ain't no liar."

I looked at him with a stern look, masking the fact that my stomach was flipping inside.

"Did you know Lenora was carryin' a baby?" He asked.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes on his. This seemed real. But it couldn't be.

I continued staring at him, hoping he'd crack.

"That's bullshit. That son of a bitch is lyin'." I clenched my jaw.

"Dudley ain't a liar. He came to me privately so as your family knew...I felt he was right." The officer nodded.

I averted eye contact, feeling myself tear up. No, no, no, no, no.

"I might've put my foot in somethin' but that wasn't my intention."

He fiddled with his dark green fedora, uncomfortable with the conversation and uncomfortable with the fact he had to tell me.

"You know that preacher ain't said no words for her? Not for people that kill themselves." I shook my head and clenched my jaw.

That son of a bitch.

***

I drove home in anger and confusion. When I pulled up, I saw y/n outside on one of the rocking chairs, a mug in her hand and a blanket wrapped around her.

My mood lifted almost automatically. She looked gorgeous in the dim sunlight. I remembered the house was empty and I was happy in that y/n and I could spend time together alone but then again, Lenora wasn't there.

I walked tiredly up the steps and she sat her mug down with a pout of her plump lips.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked me, standing up.

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

"How was work?" She asked, trying to pry something from me.

"It was fine." I shrugged, walking back to lean against the post.

She bit her lip, "Is somethin' botherin' you?"

She knew me too well.

"A uh...a police officer stopped me before goin' home." I said, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it.

"What? Why?" She asked, arms folding as she leaned against the opposite post.

I chuckled. It wasn't to be annoying. It was in anger and confusion and disbelief.

"He told me that Lenora - my innocent, God-loving, 17-year-old sister - was pregnant before she died." I stated.

She blinked at me like a deer in headlights. She didn't speak for a few seconds, her brain working to log the information properly.

"She uh...she was p-pregnant? No." She shook her head.

"Well she was." I took a puff.

"What the hell? How did I not know?" She pressed a hand to her chest.

"Don't get mad at me I'm just repeatin' what he said!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just...she was pregnant?"

I licked my lips and nodded.

She chewed her lip in thought, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit."

"That's what I said. But, apparently some guy down at the coroner's said that she was. And apparently, he don't lie." I said.

She shook her head, "Who...who was the father? Cause he'll be out there right now runnin' free!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. I have an idea but I don't know." I licked my back teeth.

I couldn't tell her about the preacher. She clearly didn't know and I wasn't about to tell her. Because if I told her I would have to explain how I knew and stalking some guy doesn't seem like the best thing to say.

"Well that is just...wow." She rubbed her face.

"I know."

We both went silent, our heads filled with thought and worry and confusion. How could neither of us had known?

"Are you gonna tell your Grandma?" She asked.

"No. No, I'm not." I dropped the cigarette butt and stood on it.

"I think it would set her back." She agreed.

"Exactly. She don't need that right now, she's at a good place."

y/n nodded, agreeing with me. I sighed and took my hat off, running a hand through my hair. y/n walked towards me with her arms outstretched. I smiled and welcomed her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, her chest pressed against mine. I leaned my head on top of hers and stroked her back softly.

"We didn't get to tell Lenora." She whispered.

I gulped, "I know..."

"Well if heaven is real then she'll be lookin' down at us thinkin': I told you so."

We both chuckled at the thought. But it was slightly uncomfortable to think of her that way. Dead. In heaven. I didn't like it.

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

I moved my head and looked at her. She reached her hands up and wrapped them around my neck.

"You were such a good big brother." She stated.

An immediate lump in my throat formed at her words. Not if you knew the things I had done or what I was planning to do...

"And you're an amazin' person, Arv. You really are." She smiled.

I just smiled weakly at her.

"And I know you feel like you have to be strong all the time but with me...with me you don't have to." She whispered, trailing her hands down then up my chest.

Reader's POV

He stared down at me with a sudden look of lust and hunger. Before I knew it, I was being pushed back against the post, gasping as the wood hit my back. Arvin kissed me ferociously, his tongue pushing into my mouth without missing a beat. I moaned in surprised but sunk into him, getting the fast-paced rhythm he was implementing.

He moved his kisses to my neck and he began to kiss and suck on my sweet spot.

"Arvin," I moaned breathlessly, tugging his hair slightly.

His hands slid down my dress and grabbed my ass through the fabric as his mouth worked on my skin.

"Feels so good." I hummed.

His lips came back up to mine and our tongues worked with each other's, pushing and swirling in some sort of dance. It was passionate and hot and I felt like I needed more of him.

Suddenly his hands roamed further to my thighs and swiftly lifted me up. I gasped as my legs locked around his torso effortlessly. He smirked up at my surprise and kissed me again. He blindly opened the door and it slammed shut behind us. He walked through while kissing me intensely.

And then I knew I was in his room. I had only been in once or twice for laundry but I knew it was his. He pushed me against the door, ultimately closing it. I moaned again and he moved his lips to my neck again.

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

He looked up at me with a glint of lust and hope in his eyes.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

He brought me off the wall and to his bed, lying me carefully on his sheets, getting on top of me.

He kept kissing me, his hands beginning to lift my dress up. I sat up and allowed him to slide it off my body. Thankfully I was wearing nicer underwear this time. He threw my dress to the side and looked down at my body in awe.

He stood up from the bed, eyes burning through my skin as he started to undo his buttons on his shirt.

I felt a colour rise to my cheeks. He was seeing me in my underwear. No guy had ever seen me in my underwear before.

"You are fuckin' unreal, darlin'." He complimented, his eyes shining with adoration.

I bit my lip, "You're makin' me nervous standin' like that."

He removed his shirt and then pulled off his dirty white t-shirt from underneath. I had seen his chest before but his bruises were nearly healed and he looked even better than before. Probably since he'd been working all day. He undid his belt and then slid down his trousers, stepping out of them.

My jaw dropped. Arvin. In. His. Underwear.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

I gulped then looked back up at him, "Nothin' much."

He shook his head and leaped on top of me. I squealed before he kissed me.

"You're a minx, that's what you are." He chuckled against my lips.

"Well then teach me how to be good." I whispered.

He pulled away, looking down at me with his dilated brown eyes, almost completely black with passion.

"Fuck, I want to."

He began to slide his hand down my body, making rest stops at my waist and my hip before teasing the waistband of my pants. I gasped and looked up at him in lust.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He asked lowly.

He slid his hand carefully into my panties. I arched my back and moaned lightly at his touch.

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

"You've never been touched before? When you look this pretty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His fingers slowly circled on my clit, warming me up. I grasped his arm and bit my lip at the new feeling.

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

He smiled, "That's okay...but you've gotta tell me if you don't like what I'm doin', alright?" He asked.

I nodded with a hum.

He pulled my panties off and I felt completely exposed. Only my brasserie covered the last part of my modesty. But I felt safe with Arvin. I trusted him.

His hand returned back to my core where he continued rubbing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the new-found pleasure.

"Already so wet, darlin'."

I whimpered at his filthy words and felt his finger slide down my core. He slowly pushed a finger into my entrance. I gasped and gripped his arm that rested beside my head, propping himself up.

He started moving it in and out, beginning to pick up a pace.

"How does that feel?" He asked.

"So- good." I hummed, eyes closed in pleasure.

He began to speed his finger up, curling it up to find my spot. I moaned, bucking my hips into his palm as if to say more.

He got the message and slipped a second finger in with ease. I moaned loudly as his fingers worked inside of me. His thumb grazed constantly over my clit and whatever he was doing was making my stomach flutter.

I could hear the sounds of my arousal and it added to the pleasure.

"So good for me, y/n. So good." He praised.

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

"I need you. Please." I practically humped his hand in desperation.

He smirked, "You sure you're ready?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Please."

He removed his hand from me, leaving me a whimpering, pathetic mess. He slid his underwear off and my jaw dropped once again. His member was a lot bigger than I had anticipated. But to be honest, I had never seen one so I had nothing to compare it to. But my god.

He pumped himself in his hand as he got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I sat up and removed my bra myself. I then took my hair out of the band and the ribbon, sitting them aside. I lay back down, attempting to make my hair look as nice as it could splayed out on the bedsheet.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous. Can't wait to feel you." He groaned, getting on top of me.

I bit my lip and held his arm with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.

"You ready?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned down and encased my lips in a passionate but loving kiss, our lips moving slowly over each other's and our tongues swirling around perfectly. I got so distracted by the kiss that Arvin could easily slip half-way into me. I gasped at the feeling of him.

"Is that okay?" He checked, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

I nodded and hummed. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size. It was slightly uncomfortable but that soon went away when he pulled back then thrusted slowly into me again.

"Arvin," I moaned.

He lifted my thigh up to his side and pushed further into me. I tugged his hair and bit my lip.

"So fuckin' tight, fuck. Feel so good, darlin'." He panted.

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and held my thigh firmly as he began thrusting into me. His pace sped up quickly and soon enough he was moving effortlessly into me.

"Feels so good!" I moaned, arching my back into his chest.

His lips came to my breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the new feeling as his tongue lapped over my skin. His thrusts sped up and he completely bottomed me out, his skin slapping against mine with every push.

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

He groaned, "So gorgeous, so hot - fuck."

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

In a Christian based Southern state, having premarital sex was looked down upon. But it didn't feel wrong. It felt so good.

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

He smoothly flipped us, so he was on his back. I bit my lip and hovered over him, taking his member in my hand.

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

I pumped him in my hand a few times to see what it was like and how he reacted. He gripped my thigh tighter and bit his lip. I smirked, feeling a pang of power course through me.

I swiped his member on my folds, surprised at how wet I actually was. I slowly sank down on him and we both let out long groans as I bottomed him out.

"W-woah." I panted.

He sat up, shifting inside of me. I moaned a little at the movement. His arms wrapped around me and I held his shoulders. I kissed him deeply, running my hands up into his hair and his tongue explored my mouth like it never had before.

I started to move on him, up and down was my instinct. Apparently I was right.

"Fuck, darlin'." He cursed against my lips.

"Oh god." I moaned, gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He gathered my cascading hair and put it behind my back as I moved on top of him. For some reason it made emotions flow in my brain.

Love.

They way he cared for me and was gentle with me obviously set off an emotion I had never really felt before. Not romantically, anyway.

I looked into his dark eyes and stopped bouncing on him. He looked into my eyes and held my waist.  He started to move my hips in a grinding motion. My mouth dropped open slightly at the feeling.

His eyes stayed on mine as I rolled my hips on his, his hands guiding me. It was intimate and passionate and I loved him. I held him as close to me as possible, our chests matching and my hands massaging his scalp.

"Arvin," I moaned.

I could feel a build up of tension in my stomach.

One of his hands slowly came down between us and started to rub my clit again. I threw my head back in pleasure, the feeling intensifying.

"Shit!"

"You close, darlin'?" He asked lowly.

"Close? To- to what?" I asked, fastening my movements.

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

His fingers kept working on my clit and his other hand still guided my hip.

"My high? Oh fuck! That feels so good!" I moaned loudly and highly.

His fingers worked faster.

"If you feel like you need to let go...then do it, baby." He groaned.

I didn't really know what he meant but the feeling in my core and stomach tightened.

"Oh god! Yes! Yes!" I moved my hips faster on him.

"God you feel so good, baby. So good around me." He praised.

I dug my nails into his back, my head going to his forehead.

"Arvin, I love you." I admitted breathlessly.

"You-you love me?" He repeated as if he was surprised.

"Yes! Yes, I love you." I bit my lip.

"y/n...pretty girl," He brushed some of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too." He grinned.

I stopped my movements for a second to smile and kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him as close to me as possible.

He started to thrust up into me, the sound of skin slapping and my surprised moans filling the room.

"Oh! Yes! God, yes!" I squealed.

He worked a lot faster than I did. His member brushed a spot inside of me I didn't even know existed. I could feel myself clenching around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Let go for me, baby. Come on." He grunted.

"I love you! Arvin, I- yes!"

I felt the knot in my stomach snap and the feeling in my core burn. I moaned and cursed and gripped Arvin's hair in ecstasy. He continued thrusting up into me, my wetness dripping down onto him and his thighs.

"Feels so good baby, good job." He praised.

He kept me in my high like I had entered nirvana. My mind went cloudy, my vision hazy, my hearing muffled. All I could sense was Arvin. And that's all I needed.

"Fuck, baby-"

He quickly flipped me back onto my back and pulled out of me. I was still somehow in my high but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He pumped his member a few times before grunting and finished on my upper thigh and lower stomach.

I watched in awe. His muscles tensed and untensed, his head was thrown back and the sounds leaving his mouth were heaven.

After he calmed down he crashed next to me and we both caught our breaths.

"Sorry about that, I should have asked you." He sighed.

"It's okay. I liked it." I giggled.

He shook his head and looked at me, "You are perfect, y/n."

I shook my head back, brushing my hand over his loose curls, "No, you are."

He smiled at my touch, "How was it?"

I laughed lightly, "Good. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like that."

He smirked, "I'm a master, what can I say?"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed and then shuffled closer to me, lips decorating my shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Every word."

His lips connected to mine in a soft, long kiss.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

-

He dropped the needle onto the record and waited for the music to play.

(Play now)

'Cry To Me' by Solomon Burke began to play through the speaker.

Arvin had poured us a glass of very fancy scotch each. He said it was only for special occasions. I had only put my panties and one of his button down shirts on. The warm, humid weather was enough to keep me warm. Arvin wore a white vest shirt and some long pyjama bottoms.

"I love this song." I hummed, sipping the warm alcohol from the crystal glass.

"Dance with me." Arvin stated rather than questioned.

I smiled and sat my glass down. He gave me his hand and twirled me under his arm before bringing me into his chest.

We held hands on one side while his other hand held my waist and my other held his shoulder. We swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the post-sex bliss.

"Come on, and cry to me." I sang an octave higher.

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

We stayed like that, dancing and singing to the parts we knew, hands all over each other, stealing a few kisses whenever we could. He'd spin me out and I'd attempt to spin him but he could never get the hang of it.

We were happy. And we were in love.

"I've never seen you like this before, you know? I like happy on you." I smiled up at him.

A one sided smile curved on his face, "No one's been able to bring it out of me before."

I bit the inside of my lip at his words. Part of me was happy and proud that I could make him feel like that but the other part felt horrible that he's felt that way for so long.

"Well get ready to be happy a whole bunch, 'cause I ain't goin' nowhere."

He laughed, twirling me under his arm and back into his chest.

"That's exactly what I want." He smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

A truck pulled up outside. And both of us turned to look out the window.

"Wait WHAT?!" I shouted, noticing that it was Emma and Earskell in the car.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

It was nearly midnight. I was supposed to be home at nine.

I scrambled to Arvin's bedroom and hurriedly put on my dress and shoes. Arvin put the shirt I was wearing on and changed into his work trousers again. He grabbed his jacket and his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes as we ran to the front door.

"Oh! You two are still here?" Emma jumped at the sight of us rushing past her outside.

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

I jumped into the passenger seat and Arvin got in the drivers. He pulled out frantically and drove off.

"Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm dead." I panicked.

"Just calm down, you'll be fine." Arvin tried to soothe me, speeding through the village.

"You'll be dead, too! Oh god what are they gonna do, Arvin?" I gripped my hair.

"We're nearly there, it'll be fine." He grasped my thigh lightly.

I took deep breaths, looking out at the silent town as we zoomed past everything. The dread in my stomach grew as we drove up the road and then entered the grounds, past the gate.

"Go before they get you, alright?" I ordered, jumping out the car.

"Y/N Y/M/N YL/N! Where the HELL have you been?!" Ma shouted from the door, storming outside.

"Ma, I can explain! Let's just go inside!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, get out that car right now!" She shouted at Arvin.

"Ma! Stop! It's not his fault!" I shouted, beginning to get defensive.

Arvin got out of the car and held his hands in his trouser pockets, walking towards Ma and I. I saw Daddy standing by the door, watching everything and my heart ached.

"You are supposed to be takin' care of her! How dare you keep her away this long with no contact! How dare you!" She shouted at Arvin, pointing a finger at hi accusingly.

"Ma! He didn't do anything!" I shouted.

"I am not STUPID y/n! I know that you two have been gettin' together almost every night. I see the car bein' parked behind the gate, I see the way you two look at each other. And I do not have a problem with that! But if the so called MAN known for his sexual acts keeps my 18 year old daughter out until MIDNIGHT, I am not gonna be happy!"

"We lost track of time, ma'am." Arvin stated calmly.

"Oh did ya' now? Doin' what?"

"Ma!" I shouted.

"No! I wanna know what was so important that stopped you from comin' home on time!"

Arvin and I stuttered, not knowing what or how to say anything.

Ma scoffed and clenched her jaw. We could practically see steam coming from her ears.

"You. Inside. Now." She demanded, pointing at me.

I furrowed my brows, "No! I'm not goin' inside with you!"

"y/n, inside right now!"

"No! I'm not leavin' Arvin!" I held his arm in mine.

Her chest heaved with rage, "Arvin, stay the hell away from my daughter."

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

"He is no good for you!" She shouted as if he wasn't there.

"You do not get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm an adult and if I am in love with someone-"

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

"Yes! In love! We love each other and you can't stop that!" I held his arm so tightly I was surprised I hadn't cut his circulation off yet.

"You are not to be with each other anymore. You are a bad influence on my daughter and I never want to see you near her again. Do you understand?" She spoke sternly to Arvin.

I looked up at him. He gulped, his eyes becoming teary, "I understand." He uttered.

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

"I'll leave you alone." He murmured, beginning to walk away.

"Arvin! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, my arm still attached to him as he - we - walked away.

He opened the car door and clenched his jaw, not looking at me.

"Go with your parents. I've done enough."

"Arvin, don't say that! You- you just said you loved me!" I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes.

His chin quivered, "Just go, y/n. Please."

"What? No. No! I'm not going!"

He ripped his arm away from me and went to get in the car.

"No!"

I slammed the door so he couldn't get in.

"No! You don't get to do that, Arvin! You don't get to say you love me then fuck off when somethin' comes between us!" I shouted, realising these were more sobs than anything.

"Just go inside, y/n." He said to the ground.

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

"No! Arvin, please! Why are you doing this?"

"We can't be together." Arvin sniffed.

"Yes we can! We can!" I went to cup his face but he moved away.

I didn't know if it was sadness or utter rage but I broke down in tears.

"You said you loved me!" I screamed, pushing him against the car.

He took it. He didn't look at me, though. But he took my babyish tantrum.

"You said you loved me!" I cried, hitting his chest.

"y/n, go inside. Please." He begged quietly.

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }