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samethyst01 · 1 year

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A Haunted Heart

TW//: Mentions of physical, emotional and sexual abuse

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Hell is real.

The only people who’ll try to convince you of this are street preachers and Jehovah’s Witnesses, and I get that, I really do. Their belief in themselves and their cause is almost admirable. Almost. The bigotry and fundamentalism kind of turns me off the idea. Plus, you know, the fact that they’re a cult is by no means a positive. It doesn’t exactly help their case.

I have a sign outside my house that discourages their visits. It doesn’t always work, but it gets the point across fairly well. Polite but firm, and the vast majority of door-to-doors will pass me by as soon as they read it. Some are too persistent, however. Those I just tell that I’m not interested, and never will be, and that they’re better off not wasting their time on me. I’m just as stubborn. I’m not going to be swayed by faith in concepts that are, at their core, antiquated and malicious.

But I know that Hell is real.

I was raised in a conservative Christian household in the Southern states of America. It wasn’t the stereotypical redneck cesspit you might have expected, but I definitely wasn’t what you might call… free. Church on Sunday, no drinking, smoking, drugs, parties and especially no sex. Puritan as you could imagine.

God had a place in my life, though. I didn’t resent Him. I read His books, idolised His son, prayed to Him when I was sad or worried, and I felt a great allure to the idea of Him. I never wanted to burn anybody at the stake for being different, and I never wanted to cast out those who were seen as unnatural. According to my community, I’d be unnatural too. I never told them, and they never asked. It was safer that way.

When I was eighteen, I moved up to New Hampshire. Don’t ask me why I chose that state exactly, it was mainly just a random spot I pointed to on the map. It seemed like the right pick at the time. Maybe it was the idea of all those trees, the wide and open fields and the forests… God, all those forests. It looked like Heaven to me.

You might be wondering how my faith diminished. The truth is, it didn’t. Not in the traditional sense. God still played a part in my life; I still prayed, still read the Bible on occasion, and my artwork always had subtle nods and homages to His works. I had been so excited to lead a life of my own, one dictated by me and not my family, one where I could explore myself, the world and anything I damn well wanted to. It was surreal. I was finally free.

And then I had to go and fall in love with a monster.

I was so perfectly fine with my life when it happened. I had a well-paying job at a local restaurant – I was always good at being a waitress – and I had no desire to move my existence beyond the quiet serenity I had enjoyed for the past four years. God was still in my heart, but He’d somewhat faded into the stars as I focused more on my work, my friends and my art. I had taken up photography and was scoping out new locations, and I had adopted a beautiful dog named Scotty. She was a welcome companion, and everything in my life was just right.

My friends all liked to party. I didn’t much like the bigger and more intense ones. I had learned quickly that while I like to let my hair down every so often, I’m not completely wild. That kind of stuff makes me nervous, and the loss of control over my body and my mental state, even for only a few hours, unsettles me. But it was my best friend’s birthday and I had agreed to go out with her because I cared about her. I still do.

Truthfully I tell you, I tried my very best that night. There was nothing and nobody that could destroy my ironclad will, not a single stranger or acquaintance who could’ve torn down my walls and turned me into something I wasn’t. I was so close to perfection.

When he saw me, I could immediately tell he was interested. His eyes moved from his circle of friends, arguing about some inane sports event or the latest viral video, and fixed squarely on me. I was uncomfortable, standing alone against a wall with my phone in my hand, trying to avoid his gaze. It was no use, though. He was there, and so was I, and I guess God willed us together.

He approached me and asked why I was alone. I told him I didn’t like parties, and introduced myself in the hopes he’d find me too boring and leave me alone. He didn’t leave. My openness caused the opposite effect on him; instead of turning him off from me, he became interested in hearing about my life. He hadn’t told me a single thing about himself, which was odd. Most guys I had met were so obsessed with proving themselves, but him… he didn’t seem to care about proving anything.

As I told him about my interests, my past, my current situation, I became more and more at ease with him. He seemed genuinely interested in me, in who I was, and that was refreshing. He was actually listening to the words coming out of my mouth. I eventually asked him who he was, and his response was… strange.

“Nobody important. Not yet, anyway.”

By the end of the night, it was me who asked for his number. He was surprised, but graciously gave it to me and asked if perhaps we could see each other again. I agreed. I wanted to pick him apart. That night, I went to bed thinking about him. He was handsome, attentive, charming and pleasant, and I felt a great deal of mystery surrounding him. I felt safe in that mystery. Comforted by the idea of him.

We met up several times after and soon developed a romance. It happened faster than I expected, but I was in love. He was so quiet, like me, but he had such interesting ideas, such a way with words. He let me take the lead in everything, let me be the one to make decisions, allowed me to take control of the relationship. It was such an unfamiliar power dynamic, and I wondered at one point if he was a submissive – the literal kind, into all the BDSM stuff or something.

But it was something else. He was like some kind of otherworldly being – thoughts of him being a forest spirit also entered my mind – and I had no idea how entranced I actually was by him. After six months, we were already moving in together. I gave up my cottage by the lake for a suburban neighbourhood next to a forest. A further six months later and I had a ring on my finger.

He and I seemed to be the perfect husband and wife. We went on outings across the country, visited famous landmarks, crossed the sea to other continents and got pretty popular on Instagram with my photography account. We adopted a cat named Marla and soon were a pretty little four.

I loved him. He fit so well into my plans, like the last missing jigsaw piece I never knew I had. I had convinced myself I was happy; it didn’t exactly take much at first. I was really, truly happy, and nothing could ruin it, nothing at all.

It can be easy to look back at things with hindsight and see exactly when they started to change. My marriage, I had been made to believe, was literally perfect. I didn’t have any cause to believe otherwise, and of course I should’ve seen it coming, but most people don’t. If we did, we wouldn’t be called ‘abuse survivors’, would we? We’d have run as soon as we knew what we were being led into. But I didn’t run, because I had no reason to. Why run from a monster that doesn’t exist?

It started out small, like it does for almost everybody. He’d keep asking me where I was going, keep questioning my motive for everything. At first I just told him, and he’d always back off. It was never anything to concern me. Whenever I spoke to a male friend, he’d become extremely worried and ask to see what I was saying. I told him it was a private conversation, and he’d get upset. He never moved to hit me, but his voice would change, and he’d be betrayed and sad and I’d feel horrible.

So I stopped texting those male friends. He meant more to me than they did.

The other stuff was small too. He’d insist on me not reading certain books, and told me I should focus on the stuff that was more ‘palatable’. He told me he was uncomfortable with my faith, that I should just give it up and focus on being normal. I wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by that, but I relented. God was never more important than myself and my loved ones. It wasn’t worth ruining my marriage for Him.

And then… things started getting worse. If we were in an argument and I didn’t want to just let him win, he’d push me. After the pushing came slapping. After the slapping came threats. He told me I’d be hurting myself more than him by defying him. He told me my friends didn’t care about me for who I truly was, they just wanted me around because I was smart. He never called me stupid, but it’s not like he was complimenting me. To him, my intelligence was something to be grateful for, something given to me by others. Not something I had worked for, or was simply born with. He held it hostage behind a wall of guilt.

I bit my tongue and I let it happen. I wanted to stay, because when he was good, and kind, and loving, I felt completely whole. I couldn’t see how unsafe he was making me but I didn’t want to, I wanted him to just be my protector and my friend. And he was, I suppose, but what I didn’t understand was the difference between a protector and a jailer. He was the latter. As far as he was concerned, I belonged to him – property of a great and important man. “Nobody special” was a lie. He thought the world of himself.

When my friends inevitably showed concern, I told them I was not only safe, but happy. I told them it would be best for them if they never spoke to me again, in case they screwed up my perfect life. I called them horrible names, insisted I was better off without them, and I cut all the ties I could think of. And I did it because he was watching. I knew what he’d do if I disobeyed him.

He controlled my finances after that. I made no purchase without his approval, spent no money without his permission, and barely even left the house. He did all the hard work. He was the one with the well-paying job at the bank, and he was the one who made a living for us.

After he took control of my savings, he took control of my body. No matter how in the mood or not in the mood I was for him, I was his to use. It wasn’t up to me. I didn’t have a say in the matter. When I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately not to look at his face, I would tell myself to shut up and take it. I am a strong person, I would think, someone who has escaped and lived through far, far worse, and I can be what my husband needs. I’m strong, goddamn it! But it didn’t matter how strong I was.

Because he was stronger.

I tried to find comfort in Scotty and Marla, but of course he despised them too. When he saw how much they meant to me, he told me to get rid of them. I refused, standing up for myself for once in my life, against him. He was taken aback by my outburst, and he backed off. I thought that was the end of it, thought that it was over, and that I’d shown him I was still the one in control. I thought maybe he was beginning to change.

I came home from work to find him running Scotty and Marla over in my car.

I couldn’t even mourn them. He beat me so viciously that night that my ribs broke and I threw up blood for an hour. The next day, he reported the animals accidentally killed… by me, of course. His charm and charisma made for effective crocodile tears. Everyone believed him. Such a tragedy, it was. Such a tragedy. And the poor wife; she really is losing it.

I knew I couldn’t leave. It wasn’t possible. Even if I tried, he’d find me, and do things to me that would make everything he’d already done seem like good deeds. Besides…

…he’d sealed my fate when he put a baby in me.

I did everything I could to hold in my tears when I took the test. He’d hurt me if I cried. I learned soon after that I’d be having twins, and they’d arrive on or around Christmas Day. How festive. My body was filled with something I didn’t want, an anchor to my abuser, a reminder of all the horrific things he’d done to me. Even if I did want kids, what kind of mother would I be to raise them in a house with a man like him?

I tried taking an overdose one night. All that did was put me in the hospital for a few days, and as close as he insisted on being to me during that time, I felt safer in a place he couldn’t control. When I came home, he didn’t touch me, but there was a venomous air between us. It wasn’t as if he suddenly respected me, he just knew he couldn’t damage the fragile cargo. And that’s really all I was to him during those days: a walking incubator for his lineage.

And then, just two weeks before my children were due, something extraordinary happened.

Fairytale endings are hard to come by, especially the ones where the ‘bad guy’ gets their comeuppance and everybody lives happily ever after. I was fortunate that, once in a blue moon, there comes a great divine justice.

One night, my husband had been out late. I could always smell the booze on him, and occasionally I caught a glimpse of the white powder under his nose. He didn’t even sleep in the same bed as me, so I didn’t have to look at his face. The late nights became more frequent the further along in my pregnancy I got. I guess he was getting more and more antsy. More tired of waiting for me to be his plaything again.

His carelessness was what got the best of him. Nobody warned him not to drive home in a state of complete intoxication, and his arrogance afforded him a haughty sense of confidence. He knew he could do it, and he didn’t need anybody to tell him otherwise. So he drove, of course, and he drove without a care in the world. And while he was driving, he decided to light up a cigarette. Luckily for me, it just so happened that his car battery was leaking the hydrogen it produced when it was charged. That’s how those car accidents happen, nothing fancy like in the movies.

As soon as his lighter sparked up, it ignited the pervading hydrogen gas and caused the battery to explode. He was on a quiet stretch of road in the open fields, so fortunately there was nobody else around. I was told that when paramedics arrived, after a passing car spotted the accident, my husband was still alive. He didn’t die for almost six hours, his skin melting and sloughing off his bones as every part of his body was seared and scorched. They said his screams were nightmarish. After the most agonising and relentless pain of his life, my husband died, slowly and horribly.

And what did I do, upon hearing this news? I yelled in delight and sobbed with joy for the rest of the night.

In the coming weeks, I arranged and organised everything. He had no will and no living family members, so all his assets were left to me. The life insurance coverage was huge, and with it I hired the best lawyer in the county to represent me when I reported my husband for the abuse I had suffered. It didn’t matter in the traditional sense, since he was dead, but I refused to allow his legacy to be of a good man. There was ample evidence for my case, including hidden security footage of him killing Marla and Scotty. To my overwhelming relief, they accepted almost everything I had to offer, and everybody in the town came to know what kind of monster my husband was.

But the best was still yet to come.

My two beautiful sons were born a few days before Christmas. My husband had made me burn every bridge I had, and so the only people to comfort me at the hospital while I screamed in pain were the midwives. They were lovely, though, and after so much pain and fear, I held two wailing babies in my arms. They were both perfectly healthy, both gasping around the new air in their lungs and looking up at me with curious, worried eyes. I was overjoyed. They were safe, and now, so was I.

I couldn’t stay in that house anymore, so I moved back to my old cottage by the lake. To my utter relief, nobody had bought it since I left, so I snapped it up almost instantly. The moving process took time, especially on my own, but eventually I was settled with my sons.

And then one day, there was a knock at the door. It was one of my old friends, a sombre expression on her face. She told me how sorry she was for what my husband did to me, how awful it must have been to go through his abuse. She told me that if there was anything I needed, I’d only have to ask. I accepted her help instantly and tearfully, overwhelmingly glad that she forgave me for pushing her away. In the weeks that followed, all my friends returned, each of them offering help and support and, most importantly, their friendship.

Being a single parent is hard. My sons are well-behaved, polite and absolute joys to be around, but no child is perfect, and I’m glad of that. Taking care of them and myself wasn’t impossible, but I learned that I’d have to get used to asking for help if I wanted to make ends meet. I worked double-shifts and sold some of my art online, not expecting much, but being pleasantly surprised that there was a market for my style, and people who loved what I produced. It felt surreal at times, and I admit, I was still riding that wave of happiness. I wasn’t sure what could happen next.

Survivors of abuse are often afflicted with PTSD. Sometimes it’s not enough to destabilise their life, and other times it’s debilitating. The nights since my husband’s death were restless, but I was kept from the horrors by something. My faith was returning, and I began to believe that God was being kind to me once again. I prayed to Him and asked if I would suffer, even after my time in Purgatory was over. It was inevitable, but that naïve, young part of me hoped I could be free forever.

Then it came. Loud noises that might have barely startled me years ago would cause me to scream and cry. I couldn’t watch horror movies, could barely sit through an argument on TV. It was maddening, how sudden the memories washed back, and I remembered the horrors I’d faced. The nightmares played on my fears and misery, locking me back in the places he’d kept me, forcing me to look at him, look at the things he did to me, and to my pets, and what he could’ve done to my sons.

The trauma started to chip away at my resolve. Raising my boys got harder, and working down to the bone had shifted from no trouble at all to almost impossible. I tried to hide how much it hurt at first, but my friends could see that I was suffering. I saw a psychiatrist and a therapist and a counsellor, and through their diagnoses and listening ears I came to terms with my PTSD. The medication I was prescribed by them numbed the pain a little, and support groups mixed with help from my friends started to make things easier to handle.

The years went by and the memories of my abuse never disappeared. They only lessened, the nightmares growing fewer and farther between, the panic attacks plaguing me maybe a few times a year rather than several times a week. By the time my sons were starting elementary school, I was in a better place than I might’ve hoped for. I was doing well financially, my boys were happy, and my art had changed from neurotic and disturbing to calm, gentle and soothing.

One evening, while my sons were playing inside, I walked out onto the porch and sat down, watching the sunset. Its glow glistened off the water of the lake, casting long shadows across the forest around me. For the first time in years, I felt safe. I felt at home. This was where I belonged, where I wanted to be, where I needed to be. I had myself to thank for that, with maybe a small thanks to God for killing my husband.

Most paranormal horror movies are full of absolute shit. No matter how bold the ‘based on a true story’ tagline is, every single big budget Hollywood production is fattened with jumpscares and stupid decisions. I had read about the Warrens and other people like them, and growing up in a conservative Christian household afforded me an understanding of the darkness of our world. If you had asked my father if he believed in ghosts, he’d scoff and tell you they weren’t real. A person is either alive or dead, and when they’re dead, there’s only three places they can go: Heaven, Purgatory or Hell.

But if you asked him if he believed in demons? He’d reply without a moment’s hesitation:

“I’ve seen at least five with my own eyes.”

Xander, one of my beautiful sons, was playing with one of his toys in the living room when it happened. I was sitting on the couch, reading a book, when suddenly his little noises stopped. I looked up from the pages to see him staring at the corner of the room, his gaze perplexed but curious. I followed it, and only found the coat-stand.

“What’s up, little guy?”

He looked back at me, his expression twisting from curiosity to confusion.

“You don’t see him?”

He asked that as if I was missing something obvious.

“See who?”

I assumed he was talking about an imaginary friend.

“There’s a man standing right there.”

He pointed to the coat-stand. I couldn’t help but tense up slightly. I asked him what man he meant, and with that same expression of confusion, he replied,

“The flaky man. His skin is all flaky. And he’s really bright, too, like the sun.”

Kids have very overactive imaginations. I know I was a curious child, and I remember making up all kinds of little companions and animals during playtime. That’s normal. This wasn’t normal. I wasn’t sure how to react; how are you supposed to? I just told Xander to be careful about those sorts of imaginary friends and tried not to think about it.

That night, I was tucking my boys in when Ethan, my other son, started staring into the corner of the room, just like Xander had. I asked him if he had another imaginary friend, but he just smiled and shook his head.

“It’s just the flaky man.”

His response sent a cold shiver through my body. I sat down with them and asked them when they’d started seeing the flaky man. They couldn’t remember, but agreed that it had been about a week or so since he started showing up. I asked them to describe him to me in more detail. Xander went first.

“He’s super tall, and his whole body is black and red. His skin is all weird… like it keeps coming off… and he has really long fingers.”

“And his eyes are gone!”

Ethan chimed in. I asked him what he meant.

“Like, he has holes where his eyes are. But they’re not eyes.”

“He glows like the sun. It kinda looks like a candle… or the bonfires at the Fourth of July parties.”

Sleeping that night proved to be almost impossible. I tried not to picture the man my boys had described, and I began to ignore the early warning signs. It was a shared imaginary friend, one they had both seen. Worse than that, it sounded like something from a horror movie. I wanted to believe they had just been having odd dreams and were visualising them in their minds, but even that didn’t make sense. This thing didn’t sound like harmless make-believe. It sounded like something real.

Now, I want to make it clear that I’m not an idiot. I know that signs of schizophrenia can be traced back as early as infanthood, and my boys were both eight when they started mentioning the flaky man. I might have had them tested, but logic put a stop to that train of thought, especially when I reminded myself that schizophrenics don’t share hallucinations like a hive-mind. Either my boys were extremely ill or they could see something that wasn’t a delusion.

Later in the week, I contacted a respected demonologist and had him make a house call while my boys were at school. I know that the words ‘respected’ and ‘demonologist’ rarely share the same sentence, but I wanted to strike off the worst possible conclusion first. It’s hard to erase the old beliefs when they’re carved into you from birth. And, besides, what would you do?

The demonologist came by and did a sweep of the house. After about two hours, he sat me down and asked me about my personal life. He inquired about my husband and I told him the story. He frowned in concern and gave his sympathy for my experiences, before asking if I had told my sons about their father. Never told them a thing, I replied, explaining that I had only informed them their father had died before they were born. This didn’t sit right with him. Not that part specifically, but the part about them never knowing of his fate.

It was then that I began to draw the obvious conclusions – flaky skin, missing eyes, glowing like fire. It sounded all too familiar.

The demonologist told me that, very occasionally, a dark spirit will take on the form of somebody a person fears or once knew, in order to torment them. He warned me to stay cautious of ‘the flaky man’, advised me to keep taking my medication, and left. I felt a great deal of dread in the house when he did, amplified by my solitude. I was alone. I was alone with the idea of my husband’s ghost.

Things started to go missing. At first it was all quite minor, like a paintbrush or batteries or my keys, and I would always find them eventually. I thought nothing of it, blaming either my own forgetfulness or just my boys having a little fun. Then things began to escalate. I would leave a painting out to dry, and there’d be a new addition to the canvas. It would be something small, like a tiny line or a circle or some other kind of shape. I knew I didn’t put it there, and I couldn’t blame everything on my sons, especially since they loved my art, and wouldn’t want to ruin it.

Sometimes, I’d put something down and walk away for a moment, only to see it halfway across the room when I returned to pick it up. It got worse when I would leave things behind locked doors and find them sitting on the chair opposite me.

One night, as I tried to sleep, I heard something fall from downstairs. I wearily trudged towards the sound and saw one of my vases had shattered on the kitchen floor. I sighed and went to clear up the mess, only to notice something shining inside the rubble. I crouched down and picked it up.

It was my wedding ring. The one I had buried in the forest eight years ago. The forest that was halfway across town.

It got too much to bear when Xander started getting night terrors. More often than not, I’d find him in the kitchen, in the dead of night, staring at the wall. When I called out to him, he wouldn’t turn around, just stand there and shiver. Sometimes he’d be talking. Sometimes he’d be crying. When he did talk, he’d always say the same thing.

“Please don’t… I don’t want to go with you… I’m scared of that place…”

One day, I asked Xander if he could still see the flaky man. He looked away and didn’t answer me. I asked a little more firmly, and he just told me he didn’t know what I was talking about. Ethan would talk to the flaky man, though, even when I was right there with him. He’d giggle and smirk and listen intently, and every so often I thought I could hear him whisper something under his breath. I didn’t like it. It made me feel like I couldn’t trust him; my own son.

That night, I decided to stay awake for as long as possible until I saw something happen. I drank plenty of coffee, kept my phone fully charged, and didn’t close my eyes for more than a second. Nothing happened for hours, and when it came to about three in the morning, I believed I might be safe for just one night. I got ready to go to bed when I felt something tug at my blanket. I looked up and saw Ethan rather than Xander, eyes closed, pyjama pants stained dark with urine. I called out to him and asked him if he was alright. His head began to tilt up, eyes still shut, and he muttered something.

“Why are you sleeping in mommy’s bed…?”

I begged the demonologist to make another house call, this time with my sons present. He was hesitant to involve them, but relented when I explained how bad things had gotten. Xander, usually such a polite and attentive boy, barely spoke a word to the man when he entered, and ignored his questions point blank. Ethan was worse, still talking to the damn flaky man, still laughing and smirking like nothing was wrong. He’s just a child, but… it made me angry.

Reluctantly, the demonologist agreed to stay the night in the guest room, upon my insistence. For some reason, I felt safer with him around. As I walked past his room before we all went to bed, I heard him uttering Psalm 23. His soft voice was calming, and I stayed to listen to the whole thing. As I lay in bed that night I prayed to God, prayed that whatever was haunting me, and my boys, and my life, would leave me by night’s end. I was so desperate, I would’ve done anything to get my freedom back.

Everything was quiet until the early hours of the morning. I was awoken by something breathing against my skin. I’ve always been a light sleeper. I jolted awake and found nothing in my bed, not even a hint of a person. I clutched my chest and felt my beating heart, trying my best to calm myself. I was about to lay back down when I heard a faint mewling from across the room. I looked over the edge of the bed and almost screamed.

Marla was sat by the door. I knew it was her, instinctively I just knew, and it took all my strength to stop me from bursting into tears. She meowed again, and not a moment later, Scotty joined her, her tail wagging and tongue lolling from her mouth. My eyes filled with tears and I approached them slowly, overjoyed to see them again. As I came closer, they began trotting away into the darkness. I followed them all the way to the guest room, where they suddenly disappeared around a corner. I chased after them but they were gone.

And then I heard something from within the guest room. It sounded almost like… giggling. My confusion turned to anger, and I suspected Ethan was in there playing some weird game. I gently turned the knob and opened the door, expecting to give my son an earful for disturbing our lodger while he was sleeping.

There was something in the corner of the room. My eyes locked onto it instantly. It was a tall figure, its skin horribly charred and burned, patchy black flesh stained crimson with coagulated blood. Just like my boys had said, it had no eyes, just sockets crawling with maggots. It reached out its spindly fingers towards the demonologist’s forehead and traced down his nose to his mouth. I saw his rising and falling chest begin to slow in movement, and then the poor man suddenly choked in his sleep, writhing in unseen pain, and was still. The flaky man looked at me and his lips parted to reveal cracked teeth, from which poured a sea of insects.

I screamed, and he was gone in an instant.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I called the police. They found nothing in the house, not even a trace of the intruder. The demonologist was dead, and it looked like he’d simply suffered a heart attack. I knew the truth, though. I answered a few of the police’s questions, insisting that I had seen a man in my room, and it was possible he’d poisoned or strangled the demonologist to death. That was what I believed, yes, but what actually happened might have been far worse.

I sat my boys down a few days after the incident and told them there was no flaky man. I told them they had to stop talking to him, stop imagining him, and that they would only be safe with me. Ethan kept asking why the flaky man had to go away. I was about to try and explain it to him, but Xander answered for me.

“He’s not real. We’re not little kids anymore. Imaginary friends are stupid anyway.”

I decided we would move away again. If the whole town was haunted then we’d live in the city, or we’d move to New York, or we’d ditch the country entirely and go to France. I didn’t care how much money I’d have to spend to get away from the nightmare. For a few months, the strange occurrences died down and things seemed to be returning to normal. Xander’s night terrors stopped and Ethan was no longer sleepwalking or imagining the flaky man. As for myself, I wasn’t at ease, but I was beginning to feel a little more in control.

As much as I hoped I was getting lucky, I could never outrun my past. It caught up to me all too suddenly, and I was powerless to stop it.

It was nine years to the date of my husband’s death. I had just finished my largest project yet, a commission piece so extensive that it almost took up an entire room. I was working from home that day when I got the call from the school that Ethan was sick and needed to be picked up. My friend was a teacher there, so she very generously offered to drive him home. I headed down and waited outside for them to arrive, watching the strip of road outside the house for any sign of the car.

I saw them approaching after about ten minutes. I waved, and saw my friend wave back. Ethan weakly copied her movement. He must’ve had a bad stomach bug.

And then the car exploded.

I was thrown backwards by the shockwave, so massive that it affected me from hundreds of yards away. I had no time to process it, and was on my back within moments. My whole body ached, but the only thing on my mind was my son. I forced myself upwards and saw only the smoking, burning wreck of the car, debris flung in every direction, nothing but metal and blood on the road. I screamed so loud I felt something in my throat tear.

Car battery ignited. Happens sometimes. Just one of those things. Just one of those horrible tragedies. And the poor mother; she really must have lost it.

My son was gone. He had been killed. It was mercy, almost, that his death had been instant. My friend lasted a few minutes longer, long enough to croak her last breaths out as she was loaded onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. But my son was dead. All that potential, all that life, he’d never get to live. He was nine years old, and he was dead before he ever left the state. Before he ever truly got the chance to grow up.

I was beyond devastated. Xander cried for days on end, refusing to eat, refusing to leave his room. I tried consoling him but I was a mess, and I had no way of truly supporting him. I began to rely on my friends again, asking them to babysit him whilst I sat in silent solitude in my own personal hell. I could swear sometimes I heard my boy’s last scream before he was taken.

Sleep was a dreamless, welcome respite. The nightmares hadn’t started yet, but they would. Once it finally hit me that Ethan was dead. I prayed he was in Heaven. I saw no reason why he wouldn’t have been, despite the horrors in our house. He was such a good boy.

Kept up one night by the memory, I turned onto my side and wondered if I was still asleep. Maybe it would all end once I finally woke up. I heard footsteps, and the bed creaking slightly, and was thankful Xander had come to me. But I didn’t hear his quiet sniffles, nor did I feel the warmth of his body. Instead, something much heavier laid beside me, a slight crackling noise accompanying its movements. I felt a hand curl around my waist, burning hot to the touch. I didn’t dare look behind me.

The next thing I heard was very quiet breathing. It was so quiet that if my house was anything but silent, I wouldn’t have heard it. The sound was harsh and jagged, as if the vocal cords had been irreparably damaged. I tried to hold in my sobs, my entire body shivering in fear. I knew who it was. Of course it was him. I had ignored the signs up until that moment, ignored the fact that Ethan died on the same day his father did nine years ago and ignored the fact they died in the exact same way.

I felt the flaky man’s spindly fingers caress the back of my neck, and gently play with my hair. I wasn’t sure what he might do, but what happened was not at all what I expected. In a low, raspy voice filled with rotten flesh and dirt and bugs, he spoke.

I’ll kill the other one if you try to get rid of me again.

Hell is real.

I can’t escape the monster anymore. I thought I was safe when he went up in flames, but I know now that evil doesn’t work that way. You can’t erase it. You can’t get rid of it. It’s the strongest disease on Earth and it will not stop, no matter who or what tries to destroy it. Evil is not troubled by death. Evil doesn’t fear God. Evil has existed since the dawn of time, and it will endure until the end of eternity, and it will find you if you cross it. Whatever is haunting me isn’t bound by tainted ground, or an unholy object – it’s rooted deep inside the one it chose to torment.

I don’t know how long Xander will survive… or if he even will. If I try to get rid of this demon, it will come for my only remaining son, and I can’t put him through that. Not after his brother was murdered. I will do whatever it takes to protect him, no matter the cost. Neither of us deserve this, but a part of me believes that maybe he might be spared if I do what the flaky man says.

I’m trapped in a spiralling, descending world of nightmares. Every day is poisoned by his presence, the figure always watching and waiting. I see him all the time now, even during the day. He looks worse than ever. Just glancing at him is enough to make me nauseous. Xander is trying his best to cope but I can tell how much he misses his brother. It’s a horrible fate to befall a child. This will never leave him, just like it’ll never leave me. And that’s the worst part: not even death will make me free. When I finally take my last breath, the only thing I’ll see is his face bearing down on me, waiting to take me into his world.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. I always wondered what Hell might look like. And now, I’m there, and I’ll be there forever. Just me and the flaky man. Just me and my husband.

Just me and the monster that chose me.

#horror #creative writing #supernatural

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lockedfighter · 21 days

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ˏˋ°• ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ @poeticphoenix surprises teefs w / hugs . ♡ ₊˚ˑ༄ ↳ touch starved hug —- a careful hug given to someone after noticing some signs of touch starvation .

༊⋆｡˚ watching him , deep in thought —- like nothing could truly break him free from the prison of his own mind . being the villages tour guide meant you often heard the talk of the town . unlike sephiroth ( and even angeal ) she seemed to find genesis a little more .. approachable ? perhaps it was his passion for loveless —- one to forever broaden his artistic horizons .

he seemed alone and the young fighter ( in training ) picked up on it straight away . maybe it was a lonely position being all the way at the top ? when entirely consumed by your work , it left little time for personal affairs . she had never truly u n d e r s t o o d the true obsession with the ‘ great war heroes ’ ; ignorance on her part . that she knew . but she didn’t fully see why emilio & the others idolised them . but now ? now , she saw the human side behind the persona and while she was just some random stupid kid from a tiny mountain village , she wanted to show her appreciation for him spending time with regular folk such as the people of nibelheim .

arms ( rather hesitantly ) came to wrap around him in gratitude . ❛ thank you for coming here —- it’s meant a lot more than you know to some . ❜ sometimes a show of kindness could go a long way ; her mother had always taught her that . ❛ don’t be a stranger !! ❜

#ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ mailbox . ⋆｡˚ ┊ surprise delivery !!#ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ crisis core . ⋆｡˚ ┊ why don't we make a promise ?#sometimes everyone just needs a little pick me up and a hug !!

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animeomegas · 3 years

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How does lil Sasuke react when Itachi and his mate actually have a pup? Is he still angry at the Alpha? How does he treat his little nibling? It’d be cute if he was kinda mad for a bit but he then probs does care for the lil pup -fluffy thoughts-

- 💋anon

(P.s. sorry for the angst 🤗)

(Hello 💋 anon! Welcome!)

Hmm, I think that Sasuke gets better after Itachi and his mate move out of the main house when they get married, and then I think he gets worse for a little while in the couple of months or so before Itachi gives birth before calming down again. He overhears some pretty bad stuff about Itachi's physical condition, and he's furious that this alpha 'forced' Itachi to get pregnant when it could kill him or cripple him. After Itachi survives the birth, Sasuke mellows out a lot.

Sasuke's relationship with Itachi's alpha is tense until Sasuke is a bit older (18 ish), but it's not too bad now that Sasuke is doing his own thing (training/missions), not to mention, Sasuke has never seen his brother so happy, which forces him to evaluate the situation again.

Sasuke is a pretty good uncle, at least as good as he can be at his relatively young age. He blushes everytime someone refers to him as uncle Sasuke. Sasuke travels a lot when he gets older, and he always remembers to bring souvenirs for Itachi's pups, and they both kind of idolise him, because they think he's super cool and powerful. Sasuke is very flustered by the hero worship, but he's glad they like him, because he knows he's not great with kids and he was worried.

...

Itachi's alpha wandered down the stairs to answer the door, newborn pup cradled in their arms. Itachi had had a rough birth and was still recovering, and they were looking after him and the pup mostly solo. Their house had, er, suffered from the neglect, and the mess was stressing the normally tidy Itachi out, and so Itachi's alpha decided to hire a genin team to get the house back into shape.

As they approached the door, they noted the distinct hairstyles through the glass sections of the front door: bubblegum pink, gravity defying grey, bouncing yellow and of course, spiky black. Team 7. Sasuke's team.

Itachi was still pretty solidly under the control of his instincts and got upset at the prospect of strangers in his house and around his pup, so they put in a special request for Team 7.

"Hello, come in," they greeted, swinging the door open. The pup squirmed in the newly revealed sunlight. "The guest slippers are in the cabinet here."

Sakura was the first to break the silence as everyone swapped over to slippers.

"You have a beautiful home, Uchiha san."

"Haha, so polite," they grinned. "It certainly was beautiful, but this little one has caused quite a disruption. That's why you're here."

"Cleaning?!" Naruto complained immediately. "I hate cleaning!"

"Now, now, Naruto," Kakashi interrupted, smacking him on the back of the head with his book. "We don't complain about the job to the client, it's rude."

Naruto huffed but fell quiet. Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"It's a simple job," they promised. "You just need to tidy up each room as best as you can, Sasuke should be able to tell you where everything goes, he's been here more than enough times. Just please don't go into the master bedroom. Itachi is... recovering still, he will probably not take kindly to strangers invading his privacy."

The ' invading his nest' was unsaid but clearly heard (by all except Naruto.)

"The only reason this little one is allowed down here with me is because Itachi is asleep upstairs. I've put a ribbon on the door handle to make sure you know which room it is."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll all take extra care to avoid that room," Kakashi said in a tone suggesting he was warning the genin not to do otherwise.

"Great! If you have any questions, you are welcome to send Sasuke into the bedroom, but only him. Itachi won't mind a visit from uncle Sasuke, of course."

Sasuke turned bright red at the name as Sakura cooed over him.

"I know where everything goes," Sasuke grumbled.

"I know you do," they reassured with a tired smile. "But if you need to ask anything, don't hesitate."

Sasuke scoffed, still red around the ears.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to get to it, I need to go back upstairs before Itachi wakes up. Thanks guys."

"Of course," Kakashi said. "I'm sure they'll do a great job."

"Us? Aren't you going to help?!" Naruto squawked.

"Maa, I'm sure you can handle it. It's training, after all."

The three genin didn't seem to agree.

The bickering faded out of earshot as Itachi's alpha walked back upstairs. Hopefully that house was still standing when they were done.

#a/b/o #omegaverse #young!sasuke #itachi #omega!itachi #alpha!reader #naruto #sakura #kakashi #reader insert #headcanons #young sasuke #itachi x reader

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btssaysstudy · 3 years

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Cheap Sunglasses || jjk

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook (BTS) x reader

Note: Inspired by cheap sunglasses by John K || do let me know if you liked it :)

Summary: Being a teaching assistant for college definitely has it monetary perks but who knew it had other perks in meeting a potential significant other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injury (not the reader), angst, jungkook being an annoying player at times, mentions of over-exhaustion from schoolwork

“Thanks y/n!” Mingyu grinned, reaching out for a fist bump. You laughed, returning the gesture. “No problem, just doing my job.”

“I’ll treat you for a meal soon, you can count on it! I’ll see you around!” He gave you a quick side hug before leaving the lecture hall. You got up from your seat, packing your belongings to head off for lunch.

“y/n! Could you help me compile the outline for the chapters to read for the semester?” Your professor approached you, handing you the list of chapters that class had to read. “Sure, when do you need it by?”

“Preferably by the end of this week? No rush! As long as it’s before midterms.”

“Okay, sure!” You glanced at the list, it was the same reading list as last semester, you just had to use your own outline for this semester. You smiled, thankful that nothing much changed with the syllabus so you had less work to do as a teaching assistant.

Your professor thanked you and left the hall. “You know, one definite perk of being a TA is tutoring hot students. Mingyu was definitely hitting on you.”

“No he’s not. We’re friends, I already met him for one of my classes last semester.”

“Mm, yea don’t believe you. Anyway, let’s hurry go, I’m starving.” Sooyoung rubbed her stomach and you grabbed your bag, leaving the hall with your friends.

One definite perk, which was not what Sooyoung said, of being a TA was that you get paid and you definitely needed the money. It was tough to juggle being a TA at first and you weren’t sure if you were cut out for it, but 2 semesters later, you’ve been a TA every semester and it’s become a part of your schedule.

“Chan-mi!” A loud bright voice called out for other friend. The three of you stopped, turning around to find the boy who was dubbed as the “sunshine” of your college.

“Yes?” Chan-mi clearly unfazed by his loudness. Hoseok grinned, saying a brief hello to you and Sooyoung. “Our club manager just texted me that we have an upcoming gig. Just a little insider info for you, you’re on the performing team.”

Chan-mi nodded her head with a short laugh, “He texted me too actually.”

“What?! I thought i’ll be the good news bearer.” Hoseok pouted, his group approached him, patting him on the shoulder to rush him for lunch.

“I’ll see you at next practice then!” Chan-mi waved goodbye as he was being dragged away by his friends.

His friends. That group.

That group was popular and they knew it. They don’t seem to bask in it but they would slip some of the times — easily charming people to get what they need, having girls praying that they’ll become their girlfriends. It was no surprise that they have quite a list of girls they dated.

Despite the list,their reputation wasn’t that bad. They would make it clear to the girls they take out on dates — that they’re not looking to commit. You figured it was the least they could to do the poor girls who were pining for them, laying out the facts immediately.

“So what are we eating? I’m about to die any second.” Sooyoung grumbled once more.

—

“If you’d like to book my TA, I’ve sent you an email with a google sheet for you to find a slot. She’s a popular one so better book a slot asap if you need her help.” Your professor announced to the class, making you feel shy from her comment, your eyes glued to your screen as you felt the stares.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know that you were a popular TA. You did put in the effort to help others since you were being paid after all, so, you did deserve the credit.

Throughout class, you could do your own things since you didn’t need to pay attention to the lesson. Halfway through the class, you clicked on the google sheet link to see that your upcoming week has been almost fully booked.

‘maybe i need a pay raise’ you thought to yourself, opening your own calendar to update your own schedule. Your eyes landed on a particular name, shocked that he even bothered to book a slot.

Jeon Jungkook.

You stopped yourself from whipping your head around to find him. He was part of that group and known to be the very athletic one. You guessed you stereotyped him to be those athletes that didn’t care about studies. You felt slightly uneasy, knowing his reputation in college and the girls.

‘It’s okay, it’s just one time slot.’

Once you noted the ones who booked a time slot with you the upcoming week, you contacted each of them to settle the venue & confirm the timing.

We can meet at my place :) - Jungkook

Yea, I’m not entirely comfortable going to a stranger’s place - y/n

Relax, it was a joke. How about near your place? So you don’t have to travel so much. - Jungkook

That works fine, there’s a cafe near mine. I’ll text you the address later. - y/n

Once class ended your two friends rushed to your seat. “So how’s your schedule Ms. Popular?”

“Really busy.”

“I saw the sheet, Jeon Jungkook booked a slot with you? Perks of being a TA is definitely helping cute students.” Sooyoung giggled like a little pre-teen girl.

“You don’t even need to be a TA to get cute guys, you have so many admirers.” Chan-mi made a very true remark.

“I’ll admit, you’re not wrong. But y/n’s snagging boys of a different league.”

“Stop idolising them like they’re gods.”

“They’re looks are god-like.” Sooyoung countered.

“You’re unbelievable.”

—

“Hey,” someone tapped your shoulder, taking out your earpiece to greet Jungkook. “Hey.”

He was dressed in a typical tired college student, in grey sweats and a black hoodie. Yet, you had to admit he looked cute in them.

“Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh no, I just came early to make sure we get a good spot. Not too near the rest of the customers.”

“I see you want a little privacy.” Jungkook grinned cheekily, clearly implying something else. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “Sorry, just kidding.” He quickly apologised, taking the seat opposite you.

“Anyway, we can just begin immediately. Do you have any questions?”

Jungkook nodded his head, taking out his laptop. “I do actually. Quite a long list if you don’t mind.”

“Well you have me for an hour. Go ahead.”

Throughout the 2 hours, you realised you really stereotyped him a great amount. You assumed he barely paid attention in class but he did — he even had a list of questions to ask. You honestly enjoyed helping these type of people the most, those that made their own effort to help themselves.

“You know,” Jungkook spoke, coming back from ordering his drink. “For the past hour and a half, I gotta admit, I stereotyped you to be a super uptight and socially awkward person. Then again, having to help tutor a lot of people would need social skills as well.”

With a chuckle, you shrugged your shoulders, “I stereotyped you too, so I guess we’re both guilty.”

Curious, Jungkook rested his weight on his arms as he leaned closer to you, “Oh really? What did you stereotype me as then?” A playful smirk clearly threatening to appear on his lips.

“A dumb jock.” You mischievously grinned back at him, his smile dropped, clearly not expecting that answer. It felt good to bruise that ego of his, even if it was just a split second. “Since I’m asking you to tutor me, I’m not gonna argue that.” He leaned back, regaining his composure and confidence.

You could feel his entire presence exuding with confidence, though he did have something to be confident about. In fact, he had a few things to be confident about - athletically gifted, popular and handsome. Anyone would call you a liar if you said you didn’t think he was handsome.

“If you don’t have anymore questions, we can wrap this up now.”

Jungkook nodded his head, “Thanks for helping me. Appreciate it.” He reached out his hand, offering a handshake. “A handshake?”

“Are you afraid of a little physical contact?” He teased.

Rolling your eyes, you reached out to give him a firm shake. “Glad I could help you.” He gave you a cute bunny smile, grabbing his things and leaving you behind in the cafe. You stayed for a few more minutes before heading back to your place to prepare dinner for your guests.

Cooking always seemed to make time pass by quickly because before you even realised, your friends were spamming your doorbell, rushing you to let them in. “How was he?” Sooyoung questioned the moment she entered your house.

“I had a good day thank you.” You sarcastically replied, grabbing a cup for them. “He was alright, he actually came prepared with questions.”

“That’s surprising. I honestly thought he booked a slot just to flirt with you.” Chan-mi commented as she helped you set up the dining table. “Come on, he wouldn’t waste his time on me.”

“Why not? You’re a great catch.” Sooyoung argued.

“Pretty sure I give off the vibe of “date to settle” and not “date for the fun”. So obviously, he won’t even bother.”

“Mm, you do have a point for that.”

“Anyway, enough about my tutees, let’s just enjoy girls night.” You raised your shot glass of soju, Sooyoung grinned excitedly, “Cheers to us”

As every week’s slot was released in the online sheet, Jungkook was always one of the first few to book. You couldn’t help but be surprised every time you saw his name on the schedule.

“So you picked up the sport by accident?” You clarified again as you took another sip. Jungkook nodded his head, leaning back into his chair. “Seokjin was the one who wanted to learn it, he dragged me to the trial class and the rest was history. He takes credit for it.” He laughed, a reminiscing look on his face.

“From your stories, you guys seem like brothers.” You watched an endearing smile creep onto his face, “They really do seem like it.”

His phone started vibrating and he checked the caller ID before sighing, silencing the call. You furrowed your eyebrows together, “What’s with that annoyed look?”

Jungkook shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “Nothing much, just someone I went out with a week ago.”

“Trouble in paradise?” You joked.

“There’s no paradise. It was just a date, nothing more to it.” He nonchalantly dismissed it. You felt a bit offended of how casual he was treating their feelings. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to go out with them, you know? You’re just giving them false hope.”

Jungkook sat upright, “That’s not true. I clearly tell them that I don’t mind going out on a date but that’s nothing. Nothing more than a date out. So it’s on them for still going for it.”

You sighed, “But you already know these people are dating you and hoping that they’ll be the one who will change your mind about the idea of commitment.” Jungkook shrugged, “Maybe that’ll happen one day.”

Narrowing your eyes at the boy in front you, you wondered if that was what he had been secretly hoping for whenever he went out with these girls. “Do you want that to happen? Is that why you’re more than glad to go out on dates?”

He didn’t answer immediately, staring at you as if he was thinking of a reply. Clearing his throat he adjusted his sitting position, “I didn’t say that. I just said maybe it’ll happen.”

“Yea but are you hoping for it to happen?”

Jungkook casted a soft glare, “Okay enough about my love life. How about you? Aren’t you single as well?”

You leaned back, nodding your head, “Yea, what about it?”

“Well, why aren’t you attached?”

Pressing your lips into a thin line as you thought carefully of your answer. “Unlike you, I date to settle.” Jungkook jutted out his bottom lip, internalising your reply as he nodded his head in response. “Interesting. You’ll probably click well with Jimin.”

“Your friend Jimin?”

“Yea, he has the same thought as you. Always nagging at me about the same thing you just did.” Jungkook chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he recalled the countless times Jimin was talking about Jungkook’s active love life.

“He’s right you know… Doesn’t it get lonely always meeting different people?”

There was a short pause in the conversation, Jungkook’s eyes shifting away, his gaze fixed on the table. “To be honest, yea. But at the same time it’s what keeps me from feeling lonely. Doesn’t make sense, I know.”

You smiled, “It’s cool, I kinda get it. But after our numerous study sessions together, I’m certain you deserve to be in a good relationship.”

Jungkook shrugged, “Thanks but I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

Confused, you questioned for an explanation. Jungkook’s eyes wandered around as he thought of a response. The athlete randomly took out his pair of shades. “Are the shades part of your answer or something?”

“It’s cheap.”

“Okay?” Your response sounded for confused, wondering if he was trying to change the topic. If he was, it was a very weird way.

“I buy the cheap ones because I know i’m going to lose them sooner or later. Can’t keep the good ones. That’s how I feel about my love life. Sometimes it feels like I can’t have nice things.”

“Man.” You breathed out, leaning back into your seat. “That’s a great analogy and all but don’t be so bleak. Between the two of us? You’re probably going to be first one who gets into a solid relationship.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Thanks for the faith TA. Do you have the same amount of faith in me for this module?”

You pursed your lips jokingly, “I think you’ll need more consultations for the same level of faith.” Breaking into a chuckle right after and so did Jungkook.

The popular athlete reached out his tattooed hand once again, for a handshake. By then, you were used to this gesture, chuckling as you reached across the table to shake his hands. “Tell you what, let’s take a pause on tutoring. You should meet the rest.”

“The rest as in your group?”

“Yea,” He stood up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets. You liked his laid-back look, he always wore that similar style whenever he was meeting you and you assumed it was to get comfortable enough to study.

“Are you going to keep staring at me?” Jungkook smirked. You rolled your eyes, standing up to get your bag. “Come on, don’t be so mean to me.” He playfully pouted and he looked cute. You felt yourself feel shy just from that, “I am not.”

“Yes you are, you always mock me or insult me. Where’s my compliment?”

You pursed your lips, bringing your finger to your lips as you pretended to ponder. “You’re doing well with this class.”

Unsatisfied, he grumbled, “That’s not a compliment.”

“Of course it is.” You grinned cheekily at him, patting his shoulders. “But alright, you look cute in sweats.” Even though you clearly sounded nonchalant, your heart was racing from admitting that and you hoped that your face wasn’t getting hot. You kept your composure, and made the first move to leave the cafe.

You realised that you didn’t know where you were going to meet his friends, “Oh yea, where are we going?” You turned around to see Jungkook still standing in place. He cleared his throat and adjust his bag strap. “R-Right, just follow me.”

You didn’t want to tease him further but you clearly saw a pink hue on his cheeks. “Cute.” You muttered to yourself as he led the way.

—

“You want a snack? My treat, for all the tutoring you’ve been giving me.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Okay I’ll get you your usual.” He winked at you before heading off to the counter. You smiled to yourself, watching his figure walk away. You continued on your own work as you waited for him to come back.

Jungkook happily came back as if he won a prize. “Guess who just got free cake? We did!” Jungkook cheered, pushing his stuff aside to make way for the food. “Free cake? Why?”

“So the lady who we always see here apparently owns this place. She’s at the counter today and she randomly gave me this cake for us to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

Confused, you looked at your calendar. “Oh, it’s Valentine’s Day.” “yea it is, didn’t you know?” “Clearly didn’t.” You shrugged, “But you should’ve told her we’re not together. I feel bad for the free cake.”

“No no, you should feel flattered she called us a cute couple. It means you’re cute.” Jungkook’s body froze for a moment realizing what he had just said. You laughed, “Yea right. Good joke, kook.”

Jungkook frowned, “I’m not joking. I think you’re cute.”

You pointed your pen in his direction, “You know, when I was young I heard that cute meant adorable but ugly.”

“That’s obviously not what I mean. You’re not ugly, that’s for sure.” Jungkook argued without hesitation. You felt flustered this time, retracting your pen. “T-Thanks, I guess.”

The two of you not only spend weekly 2h sessions together, but also became “study buddies”. Jungkook was unsurprisingly super concentrated whenever he started studying. You realised it was his character to always give it his all even if it was something he wasn’t too fond of — like studying. You also noticed his eyebrows would furrow as he tried to comprehend the materials, or sigh and scold himself whenever he found himself stuck.

He had a lot of endearing habits while studying, you couldn’t help but smile every time you noticed it.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, why aren’t you on a date today?”

“Because we arranged a study session today.” Jungkook answered as if it was so obvious.

“It’s just one day of not studying, you could’ve just told me. Plus, I’m sure many girls were hinting you to ask them out.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” He smugly answered and it made you feel a tinge of jealousy that Jungkook saw these girls as “date potential” while you were just his “study buddy”. “Tone down your ego—“

“But I’d rather study with you than go out on a date.”

You found yourself speechless, not knowing how you should be replying to that. Sensing that you were lost for words, Jungkook smiled, “Did I just take your breath away?”

“Shut up.” You snapped out of it, throwing your pen at him.

—

Hey y/n! Sorry i’ll be a bit late later, at the clinic so it might take a while before I’m let off! - jk

Are you sick? We can just reschedule! - y/n

No no! Just sprained my ankle during practice, that’s all! - jk

that’s all?! you’re not traveling today. what’s ur address? i can go over instead - y/n

You bit your lip, wondering if you were overstepping by insisting that and quickly sent another text.

if you’re alright w that of course - y/n

sure i just didn’t want to suggest it in case you weren’t, i’ll text u my address in a bit! - jk

On your way to his place, you felt nervous but you shrugged it off, blaming it on your usual ‘first house visit jitters’ — just like any other time you visited a place for the first time. Or so you told yourself. You ignored that feeling as you rang the doorbell, waiting for the injured athlete to answer the door.

“Hey.” Jungkook greeted you with a smile. You took a good look at his casted ankle, his weight resting on his crutch. A wince crept on your face, “Ouch, looks bad.”

“Thank you for asking, I feel fine.”

You stepped in, eyes taking your time to wander around his place. It was cozy, not cluttered as you had assumed. Jungkook pointed to the table placed by the window, well-lit for a good place to study or to wind down and have a meal. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. Didn’t have much time to tidy up the place before you came.”

“It’s alright, looks neat to me.” Your eyes glanced back down to his ankle, “Are you sure you want to have this session today? I feel like you should be resting—“

“You’re already here. I can take a little revision. Don’t underestimate me.” He teased, gently shoving your shoulder. With a light laugh, you nodded and sat down at the table. You watched Jungkook as he tried to find a comfortable position for himself, especially with his injury. Dropping his crutch on the floor, he settled down quickly to begin the session.

“So how do I know which case to use?”

“It depends on the scenario prof sets for finals. Just a tip, prof loves answers that argues both sides. So, it’s best if you argue with both cases but conclude with which is more relevant or stronger for the scenario.”

Jungkook nodded his head, his bottom lip jutted out once again as he took down your response in his notes. “Thanks, I’m glad I started consultations with you since the beginning of the semester. I would be drowning will all these laws and cases if I didn’t.”

“I’m sure you would’ve managed fine. Your friends are managing well too. Jimin’s pretty good with this module.” You made an off-handed comment about Jimin as you started to pack up your belongings. You failed to catch the slight furrow in his eyebrows and that irritated twitch in the corner of his lip at the mention of Jimin. He knew you two would match well, which he should be happy for Jimin, but instead, he felt annoyed that Jimin was having consultations with you.

He couldn’t help but ask, “He meets you too?”

“Oh yea,” You nodded, your eyes still not meeting his as you scrolled through your schedule, “He meets me lesser than you though, just once a week.”

Just once a week. He repeated your reply. That was enough to get close to you. Hell, he meets you three times a week almost every week. One would question if he really needed that many consultations a week. Jungkook would argue against that, defending that he needed it. But deep down inside, he knew he was lying.

You thought the same. Chan-mi and Sooyoung would make remarks on why Jungkook needed three sessions a week, hinting that he just wanted to find excuses to meet you. You would deny it every time, saying that he would always come prepared for each session with questions, proving that he really took those sessions seriously. But just like Jungkook, you too had a feeling that it wasn’t true.

“Anyway, hope your ankle gets better soon. I better give you time to rest.” You checked the time on your phone. Jungkook did the same time, quick to respond, “Do you want to stay for dinner? I’m going to be ordering delivery anyway. You know... With my ankle. You could have dinner before you leave.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to be casual about it. Jungkook wasn’t sure what was making him particularly nervous to suggest that. He normally wasn’t nervous with his dates. Why was he nervous around you when it was not even a date to begin with?

You contemplated, imagining your schedule in your mind. The pause made him grow nervous, “You don’t have to—“

“I’m down for dinner. My schedule’s not too busy tonight.” You smiled, settling your bag down back on the chair. Jungkook returned an eager grin. “My treat. For coming all the way here to tutor me.”

“Enough with the treats—“

“No negotiations on this one. I really owe you for traveling here, especially on such a last minute notice.” Jungkook shook his head, scrolling through the list of possible food options.

“Alright, thanks kook.”

That nickname made his lips tug upwards as he tried to fight the smile. “No problem. What do you want to have?”

—

Dinner didn’t take long to arrive, you helped him collect the delivery and set it out on the coffee table. Jungkook had convinced you to watch a movie with him while waiting for dinner. Sinking yourself back onto the couch, the two of you happily enjoyed dinner while watching the movie he had chosen.

“That’s cute.” You commented as the credits rolled. The movie was a short light one and it helped the both of you de-stress from the upcoming finals season. You really needed that self-care.

“Thanks for the dinner and movie. I honestly needed it. Haven’t had much time to wind down lately.”

“Too busy with your consultations?”

You nodded your head, letting out a long sigh. “Yea, don’t get me wrong. It’s rewarding helping others, especially with the pay. But it’s just during this killer period that makes me regret it.”

Jungkook frowned, sitting upright, “I’m sorry I keep booking you.”

You chuckled, “Don’t be sorry. That is my job anyway. Plus, you’re always prepared for the sessions. I hate sessions when they don’t even know why they booked it. Drives me mad.”

Jungkook hummed, agreeing with you. “That must suck.”

“Yea,” your eyes trailed back down to his ankle once again. “What happened with your ankle anyway?”

“Training today. It’s been tough as well for me. Coach has been increasing the intensity and we don’t really get enough rest with studies as well. I wasn’t in the greatest condition today so I slipped.”

“Yikes. Hope it heals fast though.” You smiled cheekily, “Do I get to sign it?”

Jungkook laughed, “That’s so childish. No one signs casts anymore.”

“Please? I’ve never done it before!” You pouted, doing your best to convince him to let you vandalize his cast. You didn’t need to do much to convince him, he was willing to give in pretty much from the first time you brought it up. “A-Alright. Just don’t draw a dick or something.”

You hummed, feigning consideration. “I wasn’t planning to but now that you mentioned it...”

He glared, grabbing his throw pillow to toss it at your face. “Don’t you dare.”

“I was kidding.” You laughed, rushing to the table to grab a pen, sitting back down close to him to draw on his cast.

Don’t flunk my module.

“Done!” You added an “A+” next to it, willing yourself to not draw a heart which you almost did. You pulled away from the cast, looking at your work proudly. Jungkook snorted, “Don’t flunk my module? I won’t. Definitely not after all our sessions together.”

“You better.” You turned to look at him, suddenly aware of how close your faces were next to each other. You watched his gaze drop to your lips before flickering up to meet yours, “May I...?”

You nodded slightly, overcome by the adrenaline and fluttery feeling that was consuming you. You both leaned in, gently kissing each other, making sure you don’t put so much weight against him to avoid hurting his injury. Jungkook’s hand found your waist as he pulled you in, the other cupping your cheek. With your arms snaking around his neck, you both deepened the kiss.

Something in you snapped and made you pull away abruptly. “I-I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that.” You quickly got up to take your belongings.

“W-Wait, what do you mean—“ Jungkook called after you, struggling to get up fast with his crutch.

“You’re just going to end whatever we’ll have if we try. We’re looking for different things remember?” You rubbed the nape of your neck, “L-Look, could we just pretend this didn’t happen? I don’t want anything to be awkward between us.”

“W-Wait but...” Jungkook sighed, noting how resolute you were with your suggestion. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks Jungkook... Anyway, I should probably go. Get well soon.” You shifted your bag on your shoulder and sent yourself out the door.

After that incident, your schedule you had planned went down the drain. Your brain was foggy and your focus out the window the entire night as you kept thinking about that kiss. How it felt and how happy you felt. But you also reminded yourself that Jungkook was not looking to settle and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

You just hoped things would be the same after that day.

—

I’m guessing the usual cafe? :) - jk

Where else would we go? - y/n

Maybe my place? - jk

Good try - y/n

Worth a shot - jk

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself every time you conversed with him. Your usual 2h slot with him would drag on if you didn’t have anything that day. It wouldn’t drag on because of questions, you two would just be talking and enjoying each other’s presence. Ever since you met his friends, you met him more outside your 2h slot with him. Though, it was always off-campus.

The incident at his place was as if it didn’t even happen. As if it was just a wet dream of Jungkook. You were thankful he stuck to the agreement and acted as if nothing happened. However, a part of you felt that it was the wrong move.

You look great today btw - jk

But that doesn’t mean you look bad on other days - jk

Just extra great today - jk

Feeling that familiar fluttery feeling in your heart, you chose to ignore the message, promptly closing your chat. You reminded yourself about their reputation with relationships, they weren’t into a serious commitment. You didn’t want to waste your own time either. For some reason you could feel someone staring at you and you could bet anyone 10 bucks that it was Jungkook.

After that moment, class went by fast and it was finally time for lunch. “Y/n! Do you want to grab lunch sometime this week? I promised I’ll be treating.” Mingyu flashed a very charming smile that made you smile back automatically. Behind him was Sooyoung and Chan-mi approaching you.

“You really don’t have to treat me, I’m just doing my job—“

“I insist, yn. I still owe you for carrying me on your back last semester for the other class.” He chuckled. “Come on, you pulled your own weight.” You shook your head with a laugh. You glanced at your two friends who were patiently waiting for you and possibly eagerly eavesdropping. Just as you were about to turn away, Jungkook’s group walked behind them.

You could’ve sworn that you made eye contact when you gave him a smile to which he coldly ignored, looking away and leaving the hall with his friends.

“We can go for lunch but you’re not treating me.”

Mingyu reached out to pat your shoulder, “We’ll see! I’ll get you again soon!” He winked at you and headed off. Your two giddy best friends reached out to pull you along with them. “Is that a date?”

“N-No it’s not!”

“Why are you stuttering?” Chan-mi teased, poking your sides. You took a few steps in front of them, turning around to face them as you walked backwards. “I swear it’s not a date. We’re just friends.”

“Alright, alright, now walk properly before you hurt yourself Miss-I-have-a-date-with-Mingyu.” Sooyoung turned you around by your shoulders. Just as she strongly whipped you around, your eyes met with Jungkook’s.

Your mouth opened to say hi but nothing happened when he once again, looked away, not acknowledging your presence. “Hey y/n!” Jimin happily greeted you, pulling you in for a hug. “Thanks for tutoring me yesterday.”

“No problem, just doing my job.” You grinned at him but your thoughts still on Jungkook ignoring you.

Jimin chuckled, ruffling your hair, “You’re cute when you’re humble. Anyway, see you around!” You said bye to the others, noting that Jungkook didn’t say a single word to you. It was as if you weren’t right in front of you and you felt offended.

“Did something happen between you and Jungkook?”

“No, nothing happened.” You denied as the memory of the kiss flashed in your mind.

“Are you sure?” Chan-mi questioned and you sighed. “Sorry, can we not talk about him? Let’s just have lunch.”

You didn’t notice your two friends sharing a look before collectively agreeing to drop the topic.

—

“Hey.”

“You’re late.” You commented, staring at your screen as you continued your assignment. “Yea sorry, I was on a date with someone and it kinda over ran.”

Oh. A date with someone. “O-Oh, how did it go?”

“Pretty well.” Jungkook took a sit, taking out his laptop, ready to fire his questions. “That’s good!” you sounded happy for him. You weren’t sure if your eyes were just trying to make you feel better but it was as if Jungkook seemed disappointed with your reply, as if he was hoping for a different reaction.

“Yea... Anyway, I don’t have much questions today so it should be a fast one. If you want, we could go get an early dinner?”

“I don’t think I can... I have quite a lot of things to do today.”

“Oh... That’s cool.”

Moving on from the topic, you two went through the questions he had smoothly though there was something nagging at the back of your mind. Why was he so cold towards you that day? Why is he acting as if he wasn’t being such a dick towards you that day?

“You good?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up to see genuine concerned eyes that made your heart flutter once again. “Y-Yea I’m good.”

“You sure? You seem quite out of it today. Are you unwell? Is something bothering you?”

You shook your head, getting frustrated. “Why were you ignoring me today in school?”

“W-What?” Jungkook pulled away, taken aback by your question. You sighed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Jungkook shook his head, “I was just having a bad morning.”

“A bad morning.” You scoffed, “Right, so a bad morning would make you ignore my entire presence. I’ll take mental note of that.” Jungkook himself got annoyed, crossing his arms as he countered, “You didn’t seem to care about anyone else either when you were chatting up with Mingyu. Didn’t think my moody morning would even be noticed by you.”

You blinked a couple times, processing what he had just said. “W-What? I was just talking with him. Why are you even bringing this up?”

He didn’t answer this time, sighing as he packed his laptop in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Jungkook got up and so did you. “You can’t do this? Are you jealous or something?”

“What? Of course not.” Jungkook frustratedly ruffled his hair. Not wanting to cause a scene at the cafe, you took your own stuff, chuckling dryly to yourself. “Well, you need to sort out whatever shit’s going on with you. I’m not here to guess how you’re feeling.”

“You’re not here to guess?” Jungkook whisper-yelled. “You were the one who suggested to ignore what happened. I’m here trying to keep my shit together because of that.”

“Jungkook, look. Let’s not talk about it here. Can we just drop it please?” ”Whatever.”

You walked away, not looking back to see Jungkook’s regretful look on his face.

—

Jungkook didn’t contact you after that day and you didn’t want to contact him either. Jimin, on the other hand, was trying to find out what happened between the two of you.

“He always shuts the conversation down the moment one of us brings you up.”

You sighed, “Nothing serious happened.”

“If that’s true, you guys wouldn’t be ignoring each other like the plague again. I had to lie to him about where I am today.”

A part of you, admittedly, would want Jungkook to reach out to you to just come clean about snapping at you the other day. You couldn’t understand how he could go on a date and then get pissed that you were talking to Mingyu.

“You shouldn’t have lied to him.”

“It’s nothing.” Jimin shook his head, “What really happened between you two?”

Defeated, you told Jimin what happened that day at the cafe. “You two are just plain stupid. That poor boy likes you. You like him. Case solved.”

“If that’s true, he wouldn’t have gone on a date right before meeting me.”

“Yes, I agree that part’s fucked up. He just sucks at admitting his feelings to himself. Don’t worry, I’ll sort him out for you.” Jimin draped his arms around your shoulder, “you can count on me to give him a good nagging.”

“Thanks Jimin but you don’t have to do that—“

“Jimin? Y/N?”

The two of you turned around, Jimin immediately retracting his arm when you saw Jungkook standing right behind you. “Oh Kook!”

“I thought you said you’re meeting your Tinder date.”

“R-Right about that—“

“No, forget it, it’s clear who’s your Tinder date. Enjoy.” Jungkook shut him down and walked pass the both of you. Jimin sighed, “Looks like it’s time for me to fix this mess.”

“I think he’ll beat you up if you go after him. I’ll talk to him. You’re right, we need to talk.” Jimin gave you an encouraging smile, patting your shoulders, “Good luck.”

You needed that.

You hurriedly followed after him, calling out to him to stop and wait for you. It wasn’t that hard to catch up to him with his injury as well.

Jungkook looked hurt and cold, as if he was building up his wall against you. “We weren’t on a date. Jimin didn’t want to tell you that he’s meeting me because apparently you get pissed every time you hear my name. I swear.”

“You don’t need to explain anything—“

“Yea of course I don’t, because I should just leave it to you to make wild assumptions every time some shit happens. I don’t get it. One moment, I think you may like me and the next moment you’re out on a date with someone else. Just tell me what is it and we can stop having this misunderstanding.”

Jungkook ruffled his hair, looking around the campus. “Can we talk somewhere else? And not here in public?”

You gestured with your hands, asking him to lead the way. Jungkook led you to a more secluded area, not too far away from where you bumped into him. You both couldn’t take walking together without clearing things up.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time, immediately diving straight into it. “I do like you. Hell, there’s nothing to even doubt especially after that night. I wanted to kiss you for so long. I never admitted that to myself until that very moment. But then you said you wanted to drop everything and I thought it was just in the heat of the moment for you so I agreed. I rather be friends than back to strangers.” Jungkook breathed, taking a short pause, “But then I see you with Mingyu, with Jimin, and I know these men are your type. The ones that settle down with the right partner. The ones that don’t go on many dates. But that’s been me. So i figured you regretted it when you said that i didn’t want the same things you wanted. But fuck, i want to settle down with you. Take things slow, see where the future takes us. Three sessions with you was over the top for my studies but I did it because I love our time together. I love studying with you, going off topic and talking about other things. I love teasing you just to see your reaction because it makes me smile. I love it when you tease me back just to annoy me. You annoy me but I love it.” He sighed, looking at the floor before meeting your watery eyes.

“But I know I’m not the type of guy you’re looking for. You made it clear yourself that night when you asked to drop it. So there. That’s why I went on that date before meeting you. Because I was so nervous about seeing your face, I needed to get my mind off of you. I admit, I’m sorry for doing that because that just further proves your point about me.” He trailed off, as the realization sinks in of how he had just fucked up his own chances of being with you.

You didn’t bother interrupting him at all, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you took in every single word he said. Your brain and heart having a civil war with each other. Not knowing what should your next move be.

“I’m guessing silence means I’m right.” He spoke after receiving no response from you. “I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself.” He gave a pained smile as he headed off back to his place.

Your knees felt weak as you leaned back against the wall that was hiding the both of you from the others. Your hand brought up to your heart.

What were you going to do?

With a heavy heart, you made your way back to your place. As you settled your dinner, you aimlessly browsed through the shows on Netflix as Your mind was busy thinking about Jungkook’s confession.

Why didn’t you go after him? Why didn’t you say anything? Were you scared that it was all words? Were you scared of ruining the friendship you two had established? What was stopping you from doing what you wanted?

You knew you couldn’t leave things there. You had to do something before you regret. You liked Jungkook. A lot. You were willing to take the risk with him. Just as he was as willing to prove to you that he’s serious.

You reached out for your phone and key, making your way out the door and to where you needed to be.

Once you had arrived, you were knocking on the door profusely, “Jungkook!” You called out.

The door opened, “W-What are you doing here—“

“I like you too. You’re wrong. I don’t regret that night. I regret saying that we should forget about it. Because i couldn’t. I didn’t. I thought about it everyday. I’m willing to take things slow with you if you’re willing. I don’t want to regret this as well.”

The smile on his face grew as you admitted your own feelings to him, Jungkook pulling you in with his free hand as the other still held on to his clutch.

“I mean it as well. I have zero intentions to play around with you. I’m serious and I’ll prove it. I’m not going to lose you, you’re not cheap sunglasses to me.”

“I trust you.” You said with a laugh, recalling his metaphor as his grin only grew wider. “You just made me a really happy man.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell with that wide grin on your face.”

“You’re annoying.” Jungkook said with no malice in his tone as he leaned in for a kiss. Both of you had been wanting to do that again ever since that incident. Your leg kicking the door shut as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“I could get used to this.” You smiled as you pulled away.

“Well, you should. I’m going to be kissing you for a long time.”

133 notes · View notes

sankyeom · 4 years

Text

+.*☆ the boyz masterlist ☆*.+

special series

➪ an au a day (2k celebration au series) [ongoing] ⤷ the boyz x reader summary: a collection of 11 AUs, one for each active member of the boyz, to celebrate reaching 2k followers!! ➞ 2k celebration masterlist

multiple members

juyeon / changmin

➪ idolised (social media au) [completed] ⤷ idol!reader x idol!juyeon/idol!changmin (idol au, love triangle) summary: in which you collaborate with the boyz in an effort to stop your company from disbanding your group ➞ series masterlist

sangyeon

➪ [07:22pm] (635 words) ⤷ i missed you (exes to lovers, idol!sangyeon)

➪ tattle-tale (5.9k words) ⤷ teacher au summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

jacob

➪ letters (3.9k words) ⤷ college au summary: in which jacob accidentally gives you a love letter meant for someone else

➪ lullaby (5.4k words) ⤷ neighbour au summary: in which your new neighbour sings you to sleep every night since the walls in your building are so thin, and you fall in love with his voice ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ and they were roommates! (social media au) [completed] ⤷ introvert!jacob bae x female extrovert!reader (roommates to lovers, college au) summary: in which you desperately need a new roommate to cover your rent and your best friend kevin takes matters into his own hands, offering your place to his childhood friend jacob when he moves to town ➞ series masterlist

➪ [10:03pm] (361 words) ⤷ you’re cute (strangers to lovers, college au)

younghoon

➪ [03:48pm] (186 words) ⤷ coffee runs (established relationship, barista au)

➪ the c in ceo stands for cute (7.2k words) ⤷ ceo au summary: in which your handsome boss is often mistaken as cold due to his good looks and forward personality, but is actually the sweetest introvert you’ve ever met ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ crazy rich evasions (social media au) [completed] ⤷ rich kid!kim younghoon x female rich kid!reader (enemies to lovers, rich kids au, arranged marriage au) summary: in which your family arranges an engagement between you and your childhood nemesis kim younghoon, and the two of you swear to make the other break it off, no matter how many crazy schemes it takes. ➞ series masterlist

hyunjae

➪ [04:42pm] (264 words) ⤷ cute wallpaper (online classes, college au)

➪ let’s play pretend (6.6k words) ⤷ fake dating au summary: in which your sister’s wedding is right around the corner, and you don’t want to spend the day telling your relatives that your boyfriend cheated on you, so you ask hyunjae to accompany you ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

juyeon

➪ [11:14pm] (528 words) ⤷ i spy with my little eye (spy au)

➪ i spy with my little eye (8.3k words) ⤷ spy au summary: in which the company you work for is the main rival of juyeon’s company, and you’re known for always being one step ahead of him; even when it comes to realising his feelings for you (based on this timestamp by the same name) ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ splash! (5.1k words) ⤷ lifeguard au, summer love summary: in which you fall in love with the lifeguard at the hotel pool during your summer vacation and don’t want to have to say goodbye

kevin

➪ [02:42am] (266 words) ⤷ phone call confessions (best friends to lovers)

➪ picture perfect (8.5k words) ⤷ art student au summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

new

➪ [08:02pm] (267 words) ⤷ a date with destiny (blind date with a twist)

➪ [11:33pm] (458 words) ⤷ horror-fying (established relationship, you hate horror films but you’re dating ji changmin so you deal lol)

➪ fortunes and misfortunes teaser (883 word teaser!) ⤷ the boyz royal au series summary: in which you are required to find a royal suitor to finally be crowned queen of your kingdom, but find yourself falling in love with a nobleman – who may be titled, but is no royal – instead ➞ from my royal tbz series coming soon!

ju haknyeon

➪ [11:59pm] (349 words) ⤷ my type (best friends to lovers)

sunwoo

➪ break your rules (social media au) [completed] ⤷ brother’s best friend!sunwoo x reader (enemies to lovers, college au) summary: in which nobody knows why you don’t get along with your brother’s best friend sunwoo. or, alternately: you and sunwoo spend the night together and have to hide it from your brother eric. ➞ series masterlist

➪ [03:09pm] (382 words) ⤷ completely clueless (best friends, sunwoo is a fool)

➪ pose (3.6k words) ⤷ model au, enemies to lovers summary: in which you are forced to work with sunwoo, your attractive sworn enemy who never fails to get on your nerves, in order to shoot your dream magazine cover

eric

➪ [05:58pm] (606 words) ⤷ first date (first date au lol that’s obvious by the title)

➪ batter up! (6.1k words) ⤷ baseball player!eric sohn x reader summary: in which you are assigned to interview the unapproachable baseball team ace eric sohn, and things end up going sideways.

➪ make or break (social media au) [completed] ⤷ [sequel to break your rules, can be read alone] ⤷ ex boyfriend!eric x ex girlfriend!reader summary: in which you transfer to your ex boyfriend’s university and you find it hard not to fall for him all over again. (loosely based on the song make or break by the boyz) ➞ series masterlist

➪ do you believe in angels? (8.1k words) ⤷ part of the otherworldly collab ⤷ guardian angel!eric sohn x reader summary: in which your guardian angel eric accidentally reveals himself to you, and you get to know heaven’s secrets while teaching him about humans.

➪ kiss me if you can (4.8k words) ⤷ eric sohn x female reader summary: in which you’ve given most of your friends a tipsy kiss except for eric, who has a massive crush on you that you’ve never noticed. when he points out this injustice, you’re happy to offer him a kiss too.

#the boyz #tbz #the boyz masterlist #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz social media au #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagine #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz timestamp

976 notes · View notes

groovybaybee · 4 years

Text

Empty Beach (4.5k)

Three hours. It only took three hours for the tan line on my ring finger to be brought up. Three measly hours I had spent in the country, travelling to the house and unpacking, before his name was mentioned. Despite choosing a later flight in a desperate attempt to spend as little time with my distant relatives as possible, the question was inevitable.

“No Ethan this year?” my sweet but intrusive grandmother had asked the second grace had been uttered.

It took less than two seconds for the question to be answered by my mother.

“They split up, ma,” she said with a passive aggressive smile as she passed me some vegetables.

“That’s a pity… such a nice young man,” my grandmother pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

“Very nice,” I muttered under my breath, knowing fully well that my side of the story would never be accepted.

“Anyone else on the scene?” asked my uncle as he bounced a fussy toddler on his knee. “Want to get yourself settled soon, pop out a couple of these sweet things.” He added when I shook my head.

I watched as the child grabbed wildly at anything in his reach, knocking a bread roll on to the floor. My eyes followed my uncle as he reached down to scoop up the discarded food, quickly blowing at it before settling it back on his plate.

“Mhm,” I hummed before dropping my gaze to my plate, pushing the food around miserably.

The rest of the meal followed a similar pattern. Questions were asked. Digs unsubtly disguised as jokes were made at my expense. I offered half-hearted noises of agreement when reminded that my biological clock is ticking, and no man wants an old spinster for a wife.

Family has a way of making you feel terrible about yourself. They can highlight all your perceived failures and mock them to your face, delighting in their ‘progress’ comparative to yours.

Ethan used to make these visits more bearable. Having someone accompany me to these yearly holidays helped to calm the fire in my stomach, the urge to argue with my family’s traditional ideals. For a while, I convinced myself Ethan’s presence soothed my wild nature outside these trips as well, encouraging me to be practical and always plan ahead.

He was sensible and I was sensible when I was around him. So, when he asked me to marry him at this exact villa one year ago, I did the sensible thing and accepted.

My family were ecstatic, finally marrying me off and watching me become the person they expected me to become. First would be the wedding, then children, then grandchildren. I would be a wife, most likely staying home to raise our children and resenting every moment of allowing myself to be stifled like that.

Ethan and I made sense in almost every way. We just lacked that… something. Some people describe it as a spark, others a fire. Whatever it is, it never existed between us. We both knew that, so it did not shock me to see the relief in his eyes when I returned his ring.

No one could understand how we ended a four-year relationship over seemingly nothing, especially not my family members.

“Have you been trying to work things out with Ethan? I’m sure if you just talked you could resolve whatever you’re going through.” My mother urged as we cleared the table.

The scoff that left my lips was unintentional but impossible to retain.

“I’m trying to help fix your mistakes.” She snapped, clattering plates as she piled them forcefully.

“Not everything I do is a mistake.” I countered softly, exhausted from my flight and from the years of having this conversation.

“Of course not, but don’t your father and I deserve grandchildren? Have we not earned that after—”

I refused to let her finish her sentence, quickly announcing that I was going for a walk.

Blood boiled in my veins as I trudged through cobbled streets. The stomp of my sandals against the ground sounded ridiculous and only infuriated me further as I stormed aimlessly through familiar backstreets until the sound of softly crashing waves called me closer.

It was after sunset, most of the beach empty save for a few teenagers gathered around a small fire. The anger in me had subsided by the time I reached the sand, gently toeing off my shoes and carrying them with me as I walked the width of the beach.

Waves brushed my toes as I inhaled and exhaled deeply, grateful for the gentle evening breeze that seemed to soothe the burn inside my throat. I spent a few moments, still, allowing the water to cleanse my soul and pull away the negativity of the night with each receding wave.

Planting myself in the sand, I stretched out my legs to their full extent, flexing and relaxing my bare feet until the tiny grains felt coarse on my skin.

I sat for a long while, reminding myself that only I knew what was best for me. Not my family, who I purposely only interacted with a couple of times per year. They barely knew me; they most definitely did not know what I needed.

The urge to settle down at a young age and start a family as quickly as possible in order to continue the cycle had never appealed to me. Even as a child I craved excitement and adventure; something no amount of familial intervention could knock out of me.

A late-night trip to the beach like this one would be considered reckless. I could only imagine the passive-aggressive nightmare I would return to. Silent gawks and glares would surround me until I felt claustrophobic.

My desire for freedom and spontaneity most certainly was the product of a recessive gene, one only shared by my great aunt, Delilah. She stopped attending all family get-togethers when I was still a child. The memory of her pulling me back during a family walk to skip stones with her would stay with me forever.

“They won’t be around you forever,” she had told me as she bounced a rock four times across the placid lake. “One day you’ll have your own life. You’ll make your own choices and you’ll make them for yourself, won’t you honey?”

I hadn’t really understood what she meant but I nodded anyway. I idolised her. The fire I recognised in myself, I saw in her. She was the only one who understood me, which is why it hurt all the more when I had to face family gatherings alone.

It was only when I was an adult that her leaving made sense. Delilah was in her late sixties when she finally came out to her family. That evening, after we returned from the lake, I was sent to bed while my family had a ‘grown-up’ discussion. The next morning, she was gone, and no one would tell me why.

She sent presents on birthdays and Christmas, postcards from each new place she visited, always reminding me to be true to myself and do what I wanted. Now she was free, she felt alive.

I drew her name in the damp sand with my index finger, mine beneath it, and made a silent promise to keep the fire alive for the both of us.

What would DeeDee do right now? I had wondered.

An immediate grin had spread across my face when I heard her voice in my head, telling me: “I don’t know, something stupid like skinny-dipping.”

I knew that if she were around, she would tell the story of how she skinny-dipped at boarding school with the headmistress’ daughter. I could almost feel the warmth of her laughter as I sat on the sand.

Envying her liberation, I glanced around the beach to gage the possibility of being nude without being arrested for public indecency.

The teenagers had left while I was reminiscing, their fire extinguished. The beach appeared empty. No one would see. Even if it was just for a moment, it felt something that I needed to experience.

Head and heart fixed on the idea, I quickly stripped my body of the pale blue sundress. Taking a swift but deep breath, I pulled down my underwear and tossed them into the pile. A small giggle fell from my lips as my body adjusted to the new temperature. A warm gust of wind blew past me, almost as if encouragingly pushing me towards the water.

I ran without looking back until my knees splashed water around my body and the ocean became too deep and slowed me down. I stood, waist deep, under the sky. It was a clear night, save for a few light clouds which glided past in the breeze.

My eyes fell closed as I breathed in the moment, desperate to savour each salty kiss and gentle caress of the water. Everyone had disappeared. Each nag and dig had vanished from memory. This was peace.

It was peace, until the gentle crashing of waves was interrupted by a sigh.

Instantly, I crouched in the water, eager for ever the slightest touch of modesty as I turned to locate the source of the sound.

About ten metres away, waves lapping around his ribs, stood a man with his eyes closed and head thrown back as if bathing in the moonlight.

In a desperate attempt to go unseen, I squatted low. My chin just above the water, I attempted to side-step away in order to keep an eye on him and prevent any awkwardness.

I was almost crab-walking away when he finally noticed me, a misplaced footstep caused me to be plunged underneath the lukewarm tide.

“Whoa, you alright?” I heard him ask when I surfaced, spluttering and spitting so much water that I did not notice him mirror my stance, also crouched.

“Fine.” I coughed, clearly not fine but thankful that he did not press it.

The two of us stood in silence as I caught my breath, running my hands over my head to scrape back the tangling mess of hair, already wondering how I would explain this when I returned to my family.

“Nice night isn’t it?” he asked after the silence started to become thick with tension.

“Yeah, not bad,” I replied, pausing for a moment to smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Know any constellations?” he had asked, turning his head back up to the sky.

“Not really,” I answered.

It was at this moment that I was given the chance to appreciate him. His head bobbed just above the water, darkened wet hair plastered itself to his head, some parts curling out in defiance. An angular jaw tilted to the stars, catching their light and softening his features. The stranger glowed and glistened as awe-filled eyes watched the twinkling wonders above us.

“You?” I questioned.

“Just the ones everyone knows… Orion’s belt, Cassiopeia…” he commented, and I copied his stance, gazing up to the night sky.

An overwhelming swell of gratitude washed across me as I stood beneath the glittering expanse. I pictured the stars looking down at us as we did to them, marvelling at their distance. Everything felt so insignificant in the most calming way. It did not matter what my family thought of me, or even the unknown man beside me (once I felt safe that he was not about to murder me and leave my lifeless body to float out with the tide). All that mattered is that in that moment, cuddled by gentle waves and illuminated by starlight, I felt alive.

“When I was a kid, I thought that night-time was like a knitted blanket and stars were the little gaps you get,” he spoke.

Not able to help myself, I turned to him with a grin at his admission. It felt like such an impossible confession to make to a stranger that I had to meet his gaze, eyes already trained on me by the time mine found his.

“Sorry, bit mental to tell a stranger.” He laughed.

“What’s your name?” I asked, sensing his discomfort from oversharing. “Then we aren’t strangers anymore.”

I learnt his name was Harry. I told him mine and we discuss childhood beliefs as if we had known each other longer than a few minutes. Mentioning my unshakable faith that lightening was just a huge camera flashing seemed to relax him. There was a sweetness to the look he gave me as I spoke. A gentle stare that paired with an equally easy smile. Lips quirked with each word I uttered, until I soon wore a matching grin.

Only when I was able to notice the deep-set dimples in his cheeks did I realise we had migrated closer to one another. By the sea or our own volition, we were only a few feet apart. He was breath-taking up close, warm but dark eyes glinted emerald and a light dusting of freckles across his nose were a testament to a day in the sun.

It was then that I began to panic. The realisation that the possibility to slip away without him seeing my nude body was quickly diminishing the more I spoke to him. But I didn’t want to stop.

“I don’t believe you.” I laughed heartily.

“It’s true! I can call my mum and she’ll tell you. My sister convinced me whenever I blinked everyone turned into a frog.” He spoke fondly, a warmth spreading across his features as he reminisced.

“Can I ask you something that’s going to sound a bit mad?” I asked once calm was restored between us. One last-ditch effort to keep some dignity intact.

“Sure.” Harry had answered with a light, throaty chuckle.

“Do you think you could wait here for a few minutes and then come meet me on the beach? I’m getting kind of cold, but I think you’re interesting.” I explained the best I could.

“Okay.” He smiled.

Almost unbelievably, he continued to follow my instructions when I had him face away from the beach and promise not to look back. He seemed respectful when I made a half-hearted comment about wanting privacy as I towelled off, so I made my way out of the water with confidence that he would not peek. Even if he did, all he would have seen was two cheeks speeding away.

As quickly as possible, I wiped off as much excess water as I could before pulling on sandy clothing. Almost instantly, a wave of regret passed over me as grains of sand covered a variety of patches of skin. However, when I saw Harry stepping towards me, equally sodden and sandy, the feeling washed away as promptly as it had arrived.

“So how come you’re out here alone?” I asked curiously as we sat.

“Doing a bit of solo travelling, kind of figuring out who I am by myself.” He answered. I felt there was more to his story that he was holding back but I did not push. “How about you?”

“Similar thing kind of... just needed a break.” I explained. I imagine he sensed the same caginess from me as I did him, but, again, we did not dive deeper.

“What’s the plan for your trip? Where you headed next?” I asked nosily, fascinated by him in all honesty.

“No real plan.” He told happily.

Again, he took my breath away. Here was someone with no plans, no aims, no pressures. He was freely living his life. The carefree and spontaneous nature of his attitude threw me off, and I sat staring at him, wondering how I could capture that feeling and keep it with me.

“What?” he asked with a smirk as I gazed at him admiringly.

“Nothing, you’re… you’re just not like a lot of people I know.”

“Shall I take that as a compliment?”

“Definitely.” I told him with a nod.

Finally, I managed to prise my gaze from him and look out to the swelling ocean, but I felt his eyes on me still. My face began to heat up as I felt his lingering looks, tracing over my features. Breath caught in my throat as my chest rose and fell heavily.

“Harry,” I uttered, voice barely above a whisper as I turned to face him.

“Mm?” he hummed, eyes softly locked on my lips.

We didn’t say anything else, there was no room for words as our bodies gravitated towards one another until our lips touched. His were salty and a little chapped from the ocean, I imagine mine were too, but they left soft, buttery kisses that left my chest aching for more. From the first moment our lips pressed, I felt addicted to them. Each kiss was another hit, more intoxicating than the last.

He held me to him. Fingertips grazed the slope of my jaw. Lips sweeter than treacle, we sank together. Soon, our bodies laid as one on the sand, water occasionally lapping at our toes as the tide rolled closer.

We kept ourselves warm despite the dropping temperature, bodies moving against one another symbiotically. Gradually, hands worked their way under clothing, cold and warm meeting in a blissful collision. A cocktail of excitement and caution filled my stomach. Each matched breath and heavy sigh sent a fizz through my bloodstream, soon drunk on his movements. Desire and trepidation battled throughout my being; a tug of war unevenly stacked against sensibility.

When a large hand reached my breast, a light gasp tumbled from my lips. His actions stoked a fire within me that even the rising tide could not extinguish. Harry moved slowly, thoughtfully, as his touch spread around me, seeming to savour every single inch. My body arched into his when his lips pulled at the soft flesh of my neck, sucking gently but enough to have my hips rolling involuntarily. Desperately seeking some form of stimulation, they jolted harshly against his. The smirk I felt pressed against my skin only encouraged the burning within me. I was in dire need for something free and a little wild, and there he was.

“I don’t want to assume anything…” I began, my breathy voice barely above a whisper as his lips travelled down my collarbones and to my chest, “But do you have protection?”

“In my bag.” He replied with a nod to his large, bulging backpack.

For a moment, we lay still, his chin on my chest as bright eyes and a matching smile looked up at me. There was a shared sense of relief at the realisation that we both wanted the same thing and wanted the best possible outcome for each other. There was mischief in our eyes, a touch of recklessness, but mainly care.

Lips returned to my skin, puckering along each peak and valley of my covered torso until his mouth reached the hem of my dress. Lifting his eyes questioningly to meet mine, he waited patiently until I gave a soft nod. Eagerly, hands slip beneath the fabric, gliding up the outside of my thighs to reach my hips. He grabbed at the flesh there, greedily kneading it as kisses worked their way up the inside of my legs.

“Harry…” I breathed out hopelessly.

His lips crooked into a smile, but he continued to take his time, seeming to enjoy the way my body fought to lay flat against the sand.

Special attention was given to each and every part of my body, his lips taking their time in dragging their way upwards until, finally, they met the ache between my thighs. His tongue licked tentatively to begin with, before the sight of my body writhing beneath him instilled a new wave of confidence. Soft licks evolved into wet, open-mouthed kisses. Before too long, his mouth moved keenly in delicate swirls as fingertips dug gently but firmly into my hips. Harry held me in place as I desperately sought more from him. Back arched and toes dug helplessly into the sand, his hair tangled through my fingers.

His eyes were on me the whole time, confidently working me close to orgasm without even a shred of doubt in his performance. Not that there needed to be, his mouth moved beautifully against me, switching between soft licks, gentle sucking, and passionate lapping. I felt his jaw moving up and down as his face pressed into me, nose and mouth gliding up and down the length of my pussy, sure to leave no area neglected. My eyes met and disconnected with his constantly, battling to watch and remember every detail of being with him while struggling to keep my eyes open at all.

“Think you can come for me?” he groaned; lips so close they sent vibrations across my flesh.

I was already a quaking mess from his actions, but his words, his desire to give me pleasure, all became too much. My fingers wound through his hair as he pulled me closer, working faster and sloppier. Messy, wonderful circles swirled around my clit as a hand reached up the length of my body. The top of my dress was pulled down, breasts exposed and sensitive in the night air. Gentle fingertips juxtaposed the passion between my legs as they caressed and rolled the freed flesh.

Overcome with sensation, my hips shuddered against him. Stomach contracting as my toes buried themselves in the sand and fingers grasped his hair, desperate to cling to the world in any way possible. My body fought this urge, convulsing and shivering as his actions became less intense, tongue moving softer against me as he pulled me through my orgasm.

Once I had stopped shaking, Harry crawled back up my body to lay beside me. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before propping himself up on his elbow to observe me.

My breathing levelled out and muscles relaxed before I was able to open my eyes again. When I did, I noticed the way the moonlight reflected on his face, showering him with luminescent majesty. He looked ethereal as he watched over me.

“All good?” he asked softly, the slightest touch of nervousness present in his voice.

In response, I nodded my head to his backpack. I watched as an inescapable grin slipped on to his lips before he rolled over to dig through his bag.

As he searched, my hands began to explore his body. Slowly, they felt the tension of his shoulders, a firm chest, prominent abdominal muscles covered in a layer of soft flesh. The other hand ghosted across the meatiness of his thighs, urgently fighting the desire to dig my fingers in. It continued up to his hipbone, the bottom of his shirt pushed up slightly, revealing tattoos I had not had chance to see yet. I wondered if he would let me count them sometime as he turned back to face me, condom in hand.

His gaze softened as it fell on me, flickering for a second to my breasts before returning to my face. Our lips reconnected, the same warmth spreading across them and down into my chest and stomach, already hooked on the feeling.

“You’re sure, right?” I asked him when my hand reached the waistband of his shorts.

“Positive. You?”

My answer came in the form of a nod before I slipped a hand through his hair and pulled his lips back to mine.

Our hands worked clumsily together to unbutton his shorts, soft giggles shared as our fingers tangled. I pulled myself on top of him as he rolled the condom down the length of his cock. His eyes watched me hungrily as I positioned myself above him, gathering the excess fabric of my skirt in my hand before sinking slowly on to him. A gasp left my mouth involuntarily as my body accommodated his size. When the backs of my thighs met the tops of his, I paused, my hips grinding of their own volition. Rocking back and forth caused him to hit the most delicious spots, my muscles clenching around him until he was bucking his hips slightly, starting the cycle anew.

I rose from my position before returning, just as slowly and deliberately. The moans my movements elicited where otherworldly. The melting of our bodies into one another was intense, seeming to fit and move together as if that was their design. Soon, our hips rolled and met quicker, the sensation unlike anything I had ever felt. After a moment, Harry sat up, one arm around my waist and the other behind him to steady us. Lips clung to my chest, pressing kisses along my sternum before encircling my nipple and sucking softly. My hips began to move up and down at the new sensation, causing Harry to pull his head back, watching with lust-filled eyes as my breasts bounced before his eyes.

A low growl of a moan escaped Harry’s lips as both arms wrapped around my waist tightly. I was lifted and placed gently on my back on the sand before I could even register what was happening. This new position allowed so much more freedom for him, his hips instantly snapping against mine. Each thrust shook my whole body, sand certainly tangling in my hair. There would be no excusing this when I returned to the villa, but I could not have cared less. All I could think about was the feeling between my legs as Harry grabbed me by the waist and collided our hips over and over. He had pulled his shirt up, holding the bottom between his teeth to prevent it from interfering. His eyes bore into mine, watching with a small smirk as I crumbled into a moaning mess beneath him when he slipped a hand down to rub gentle circles against my clit. Still sensitive from before, the added stimulation had me writhing under him.

I became increasingly thankful for the sound of the waves, just loud enough to cover the obscenities that spilled from my lips as I was brought to my second orgasm. The sensation of my muscles tightening around him proved too much, as he stilled not soon after, a beautifully gruff rendition of my name tumbling from his lips.

After a moment of gentle thrusts, he pulled out and returned to his position beside me, grabbing a towel from his bag and laying it across us like a blanket. His arm lifted, calling me closer until my head rest on his chest. We laid for a while, regaining our breaths and waiting for our heartbeats to slow.

“I think that one is Ursa Major.” Harry spoke softly, his voice a little gravellier than before.

I looked up to the stars to seek the constellation he pointed out, quickly realised I was not that interested.

“I don’t really care about stars.” I confessed, looking up at him with a slightly exhausted grin.

“Me neither,” he replied, bottom lip tugged slightly into his mouth as he smirked at me mischievously. “Just wanted to keep talking to you really.”

Thankful that the night would cover the heat rising in my cheeks, I told him, “I think I quite enjoy talking to you.”

“Maybe we should run away together.” He joked, a look of fear flickering through his eyes as he realised how intense that could sound, quickly melted away by my breathy laugh.

“Where do you want to go first?”

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thewatermelloncat · 3 years

Text

Backstage (Rosénali CH 4)

CH1, CH2, CH3

Summary: Rosé’s day only gets worse and Denali makes sure to be there for her. And in her vulnerability Rosé admits more to Denali than she would to anyone else.

Boarding School AU

Kinda Pastel/Punk AU

Author’s Note: Be on the look out for links to extra stories within the chapters.

Warnings: Swearing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rosé had been distracted throughout their English class that day. Which was no different than any other time really, but Denali knew that this time there was a reason and that’s what bugged her. After they’d been released to get to their next class, she had tried to catch Rosé so she could check on her. But she’d gotten caught up in a sea of people and couldn’t make it to her by the time she left out the door.

She hadn’t seen her since then. Part of her had wanted to go looking for her at lunch but she’d reasoned against it. Not wanting to overstep her boundaries when Rosé was already having a rough day – they were still fundamentally strangers after all. Then again, were they, after Denali had comforted her while she cried that morning?

After classes were over Denali returned to her dorm, figuring that distracting herself with homework would be better than getting caught up in her thoughts over what she is to Rosé. It was going well and she’d finished a page and a half of science before frantic footsteps thunder down the hall.

Suddenly the door bursts open and Mik flies into the room. “Rosé got into another fight!”

“What! What happened?” Denali springs off her bed, homework falling to the floor.

“A group of girls were getting stuck into her about her parents again. Kind of the usual stuff really” Mik explains breathlessly. “Rosé obviously didn’t want to hear it so she started to walk away. Then someone called her a ‘fucking charity case’ and she turned around and pushed them against a locker – it was kinda hot.”

“Is she okay?” Denali asks.

“Physically or emotionally?” Mik asks back.

Denali lets out an unsettled breath, not able to pick an option. “Where is she?” she asks instead.

“They should have released her from the office by now” Mik says, flopping into a nearby chair. “So, she’ll probably be back in her room.”

“I’ll see you ‘round dinner” Denali says before immediately setting off out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Denali knocks on the door she doesn’t expect an answer but still she calls out, “Rosé, it’s me.”

In the second it takes for her hand to fall back to her side; she already gets a response.

“Door’s open.”

At the invitation Denali turns the handle and pushes through the door, finding Rosé standing at her desk. When the door shuts behind her Rosé turns around. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for Denali to make the next move. Not knowing how she’s going to react.

“Are you all right?” is not the first thing Rosé thought she’d hear from her.

“Yeah” Rosé answers quickly but she doesn’t know how much she means it.

“Because after the day you’ve had, I don’t think you should be” Denali continues as if Rosé hadn’t answered.

“I’ve had days that are worse” Rosé dismisses.

“Don’t deflect” Denali warns calmly. “Are you okay?”

Rosé shrugs, “yeah, fine.” Only choosing that answer because she tells herself that she has to be.

“So, you’re not hurt?” Denali checks. “Not even emotionally?”

“No” Rosé shakes her head before she fixes Denali with a questioning look, noticing the way she is staring at her. “Are you expecting me to have a blackeye or something?”

“Well, no… but yeah – I don’t know” Denali fumbles.

“Nothing, see” Rosé moves a hand in front of her face before placing it behind her to lean against the desk. Failing to supress a wince.

Denali freezes but says nothing. Figuring it’s better to assess the situation independently rather than allowing Rosé to get defensive. “Your hand” she points out seriously, noting the redness of the side of her palm.

“What about it?” Rosé says far too quickly for anything not to be suspicious.

“You said you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m not. It’s fine” Rosé averts her eyes, subconsciously moving the hand further behind her back out of Denali’s sight.

“I can see it swelling” Denali starts forward towards her, holding her hand out for it.

When Denali stops in front of her, Rosé rolls her eyes but reluctantly holds her hand out to her and she takes it gently.

“Why did you lie to me?” Denali asks as she studies over it.

“I didn’t. It’s not broken so it’s fine.”

Denali sighs deeply, knowing that she’s not going to get anywhere with Rosé on this. “Just at least let me wrap it for you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Did you break their nose or something?” Denali doesn’t look up from tying off the bandage Rosé had lying around in a draw.

“What?” Rosé regains focus after zoning out.

“Did you break their nose?” Denali repeats. “Surely you would have had to hit something pretty hard to do this.”

“I didn’t hit them” Rosé tells her.

“Then…” Denali’s voice fades out as she thinks. “Did they hurt you?”

Rosé scoffs a laugh but thinks better of making a comment of liking to see them try. “Nah, they didn’t touch me.”

“I’m so confused” Denali shakes her head as she finishes off the knot and lowers Rosé’s hand.

Rosé smiles at her, partially amused by her confusion but mostly in thanks. “After I pinned them, I hit the locker.”

“You missed?”

“Purposefully” Rosé makes a point of explaining.

“So, you didn’t hurt them?”

“Probably winded her when I shoved her but that’s only momentary” Rosé considers. “I never want to hurt anyone, Denali.”

Denali smiles at her answer sadly before she asks, “what did you get for it?”

“Two detentions, a call home to my parents – which they probably won’t care about – and I had to say an apology that I only half meant” Rosé lists before adding to her last point. “Which works out fine because they had to give me an apology that I know they didn’t mean at all.”

“And what else did they get?” Denali asks.

“Nothing” Rosé says matter-of-factly.

“Nothing?” Denali repeats in disbelief.

Rosé shrugs not seeming surprised or bothered by it. “Remember what I said about elitists?”

Denali nods, thinking back to the previous day on the fire escape. “Well, if it makes any difference, I’m on your side” Denali tells her. “And Mik too.”

“I know she was” Rosé smiles widely, laughing slightly.

“What do you mean?” Denali asks, unsure of how she knows.

“Well, she was around so she got pulled into the office as witness” Rosé explains before she smirks. “Thought she was going to lose it at Ms Visage at one point. She’s pretty cool.”

(Short Story: I’ll Fight Your Corner)

“I pretty sure she’d die if she heard you say that” Denali smiles. “I think she idolises you.”

“I’m no one to idolise” Rosé’s smirk drops as she looks down at her bandaged hand.

“I don’t think she cares” Denali shrugs. “She just wants to know how you sneak out at night.”

“Trust me it’s not as fun as it seems” Rosé says sadly, not looking up.

“Why do you do it if it isn’t fun?”

“Because I have a job” Rosé seemed to hesitate before she said it. “Night shifts at a diner down the block – the one that your parents must have taken you to. Ms Visage was nice enough to set me up with it when we realised that I couldn’t afford stationery and stuff.”

Rosé pauses, giving Denali an opportunity to say something but she doesn’t take it.

“It’s only parttime but it’s still enough to set me back on homework. I think all the teachers know but most of them don’t seem to care.”

“And no one else knows?”

“No one” Rosé emphasises before warning, “and I’m hoping you can keep a secret because I plan to keep it that way.”

“I won’t tell anyone” Denali promises. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Thought it might be nice to tell someone, you know?” Rosé leans her head back against the wall. “Have someone else know apart from myself.”

“And is it nice – to tell someone?”

Slowly Rosé starts to nod her head as she chews at her lip. “Yeah… it is.”

CH5

#rpdr #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr 13 #rosé #denali #gottmik #boarding school au #pastel!denali #punk!rosé #rosénali #rosenali

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