#when her finally realizing that It is back and that it isnt just

[girlshambogames]

"thank you for everything, ro. i wish we got to work together."

"oh same, but y'know, some things just don't work out."

i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics i hate drastics

[moeblob]

Right and his work menaces (Brent and Karen).

I don't remember last I mentioned it but apart from crude nicknames to people (except Chris), he also just puts them in his phone really weird (except Chris, who is literally in his phone as Chris). And I bring this up because in Right's phone, Karen is saved as "Lawful Obligation".

[kamospeach]

plot: who knew kiss cams could ruin your gym routine

content warning: once again toji himself needs a warning, cursing ofc (i mean it's toji)

dean's (aka peachy) yap: this isnt really angst ! this is messy bootssssss

you’ve never been the jealous type; you were pretty secure in yourself. but you were extremely petty, so when you heard there was a home hockey game, you had to go, with onyankpon, the sneaky link you told your friends you had given up on.

“so this isn’t about toji, right?” utahime asked, and you just hummed, taking off another shirt that didn’t look right with the skirt you wore.

“and it’s not about the fact that you saw him with another girl?” you turned around, glaring at her innocent-looking face.

“are you on my side or are you here to judge me?” you asked, and she laughed, and you squinted your eyes at her.

“i’m on your side, i just want you to realize he may not get jealous.” she shrugged, grabbed a different shirt, and handed it to you. you looked at the shirt and actually liked that one better.

you didn’t mean to make him jealous, but you did want him to know he wasn’t the only one flirting with you. then again… could you even call what you and toji had flirting? i mean, it was more of a physical trainer/client feel. it didn’t matter either way, you had a plan, and you were going through with it.

“well, that doesn’t matter because this isn’t for toji anyway. it’s for ony,” you said, and utahime wasn’t sure if you were trying to convince her or yourself. either way, she agreed, knowing how stubborn you could get.

on the other hand, you still couldn’t put your finger on why this was making you upset. you figured maybe because he’s good-looking, but people get jealous over michael b. jordan all the time! so that didn’t mean you automatically liked him, right? it just rubbed you the wrong way that he so carelessly moved from woman to woman. yeah. that’s all.

you finished up with your outfit, moving onto makeup, keeping it natural. your lashes were done, nails fresh, and your hair always stayed done. you were ready, and utahime gave you a wet kiss on the cheek as she left out saying she would meet you at the game.

15 minutes later, you got a text from ony letting you know he was outside. when you got in the car and saw how good he looked, you knew you made the right decision. he looked too good, the way his brown skin glistened in the sunset. how his pearly white teeth smiled back at you. if this man didn’t make toji wisen up, who could?

“you look good. did all this for me?” he asked with a smug smirk, and you scoffed. the truthful answer was yes and no, but you were never the truthful type.

“nope, this is all for me, thank you!” you said, giving him a look that only made him chuckle. his ego wouldn’t let him believe that you didn’t do it for him. he was smug as hell the whole ride, a silly smirk on his face knowing that he was taking you to the game.

the game was crowded and insanely packed; luckily, you found a park that wasn’t too far. you pulled down the visor, checking your hair and face, making sure it was perfect. ony was staring at you, and you ignored his beady eyes scanning your face.

“ready?” you asked him with a smile, and he bit his lip, nodding, ready to enter the rink. you walked out of the car alongside ony. he kept trying to hold your hand, but you didn’t want to look that close to him. he handed the attendant your tickets, and both of you went inside the rink.

the cold air hit you, making you realize you were actually about to see toji on the ice. initially, your eyes scanned the stadium for your friends—until you saw him. wearing that famous number 11 that would get girls’ panties instantly wet. not you though. no, no, no. you were different from those thirsty girls he was used to.

as your eyes were trained on him warming up, you got a call from utahime. she was helping you and ony find your group that consisted of shiu, choso, utahime, shoko, ino, and ino’s best friend. you finally found the seats, which, unironically, were right behind the home team’s bench.

you joined your friends, chatting a little as the team finally got ready to play. all the men came to the bench, and that’s when toji noticed the two of you. just like utahime said, he wasn’t jealous, not even a little bit.

he had a big smile, saying hi to everyone you were with. even dapping up ony, looking between the two of you and saying hi to you too. he seemed like he didn’t even care, just was happy you were here.

the game started, and of course, you were watching no one but toji. the way that he skillfully glided across the ice while simultaneously playing aggressively. it was almost beautiful. and he looked way too good, but you wouldn’t admit that.

it was all just a big thirst trap for you, and you could’ve sworn he looked right at you. all sweaty and his hair stuck to his forehead as his brows furrowed in concentration. his teeth tugged at his scarred lip as he listened to what his coach told him. you were just completely infatuated with him.

the game went to a timeout and the announcer was having a time. playing games with the crowd, giving out gifts, even handing out t-shirts with the mvp’s (toji ofc) number on it. they played finish the lyrics and even had a dance cam on the jumbotron.

you were just enjoying your friends’ company, plus the atmosphere of the game. that was until you heard the announcer mention a kiss cam. of course, initially you paid it no mind until your friends pointed at the jumbotron showing you that you and ony were on it.

freaking out wasn’t even the way to explain it. ony to your left and toji sitting directly in front of you. you had no choice but to make a move to not embarrass ony or yourself. so you kissed him. a full-blown make-out session on the jumbotron.

toji blinked. he didn’t know you were dating him. all this time, he thought you two were friends. he heard you both laughing and joking in his left ear. and here he thought you and he were getting to know each other at the gym. his jaw clenched on instinct. his leg bounced as his blood got hotter and hotter.

once timeout was over and he was back on the ice, he couldn’t even focus on the men out there with him. his brain was in a constant loop of thinking about you.

you flirting with him.

then you kissing ony.

how you’d smile at him at the gym.

then how you’d laugh at ony’s jokes.

it was too much and before he knew it, the puck was behind him and everyone had passed him by. his coach was yelling at him and he looked up. you were already looking at him with those eyes that he could’ve sworn were begging him to lock in. he looked at the score.

they were losing. all because you had that damn kiss with that guy. he could say it was your fault or he could use it as fuel.

he chose fuel.

the minute he got back out there, he was nearly knocking everyone over. he was skating faster than before and shoulder-checking people like they owed him money. he didn’t even blink when a guy just as big as him stood in front of him.

this was new. even the clips you had seen of toji weren’t this intense. he was skating fast and knocking people six feet out of his way. the announcers were excited seeing this type of passion from toji but you were simply intrigued.

“your little boyfriend is getting aggressive, isn’t he?” shoko whispered in your ear and you gave her a good glare. as you looked back at the ice, you met eyes with toji. his helmet halfway off, the mouthguard in between his teeth, and his eyes blazing as he looked at you. you immediately redirected your attention to someone else on the ice.

and that only fueled toji more. he was so pissed that even while he was playing aggressively, he was still making small mistakes. the sweat blurred his vision and his chest tightened as he thought about you.

“watch it, fushiguro!” his coach barked, but toji didn’t pay any attention. not caring if he got a roughing penalty or any penalty for that matter. but at the end of the game, they ended up winning due to toji’s never-ending efforts.

when the game ended, your whole friend group went their separate ways.

“did you enjoy the game?” ony asked and enjoyed wouldn’t even begin to explain how you felt. it felt different than any sports game you had ever been to. probably because your unofficial gym crush was the one that was playing.

“oh, i loved it. that was my first hockey game.” you smiled and ony nodded, agreeing their comeback was pretty entertaining. the two of you talked more about the game and about hockey.

as you got home, you couldn’t wait to see him in the gym tomorrow. you were over the petty shit. you wanted toji and now you were ready to make your move.

but of course, that cute little dream got stomped out the second you got in the gym and saw toji with the same girl. sure, you showed up to his game with a different guy so who were you to complain? but he wasn’t as discreet as you. the way every time he touched the girl, he checked that you were looking.

and you 100% were looking.

you almost tripped on the treadmill because you were too busy watching what they were doing. how he helped her do deadlifts and touched her thigh, trying to make it seem innocent. you were practically seething, running on the treadmill three speeds faster than usual.

fuck what you said yesterday. you absolutely did have a crush on him. you wanted him, probably needed him, and you were sure that you wanted to make a move. so you waited and watched as you moved to the stairmaster.

if anyone saw you, they’d think you were some weird stalker but you didn’t care. you needed a chance to talk to him and this would be your chance. you moved to weights, noticing he was finally alone, and made your move.

“you always that handsy with everyone you help?” you asked and he looked down at you. eyes cold and not a smile on his lips, it was almost as if he hated you. he clearly wasn’t in the mood for you even though he had on his smirk for the other girl.

“only the ones that don’t bring some random guy to my games,” he said flatly, no emotion, and the comeback was too quick. your ego wasn’t bruised but you were definitely in shock from the coldness that he gave you.

“are you jealous?” you asked with a smirk and he raised a brow. surely, he wasn’t expecting you to have so much confidence.

“jealous? i don’t get jealous over girls i’m not fuckin’.” he said, and if nothing he said shocked you, that definitely did.

“that sounds like something a jealous man would say.” you mumbled, acting as if you weren’t paying him any mind to hide the embarrassment on your face.

“you were way more attractive when you weren’t trying to prove a point,” was all he said as he walked away and honestly, you were hurt. you didn’t think about how your plan could blow up in your face, but here you are. lifting all alone, still confused, and toji wants nothing to do with you.

yeah, you fucked up big time.

to be continued...

one two three four five six

taglist (open):

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[sweetpianoxoxo]

Apple Pie and Honey Tea ♡ Poly!Omegaverse!141

(Gaz Centered)

"Stay close to people who feel like sunlight" - unknown . Gaz's long time (omega) best friend gets to meet his pack for the first time, and they curse gaz for keeping her to themselves this whole time.

Warnings: angst, insecurities, unedited

It certainly wasn't meant to be malicious. Kyle just wanted something to himself, just for a bit longer. He didn't want to hurt anyone!!

She was his mate, soul bonded to be with him, and he didn't know she'd end up being Johns mate as well. He just didn't want her to realize that he wasn't as much as his packmates. He wasn't louder or stronger or wiser or more in-command. He was just Kyle. Just Gaz.

Maybe it was also because he didnt want her to keep this bond platonic. Soulmates could do that, if they didnt believe they were sexually compatible. But Kyle and his omega were compatible. He knew they were compatible.

All in all its rooted in naitivity on the omegas part, assuming all Kyle wants is a friendship, never taking hints. And insecurity on Kyles part, fear of never being a good enough alpha for his omega, therefore never taking charge.

Now, Gaz didnt get this insecurity growing up, raised with an omega mother, alpha father, and three omega sisters, he was taught the ropes and dynamics (of a healthy relationship) at a young age: take care of the omega, praise the omega, help the omega, make the onega smile, etcetera.

He got these insecurities by himself as he grew through the ranks. He was praised for his quiet demeanor and unsuspecting anatomy. He was praised for being a lesser alpha.

And when he joined taskforce 141 and joined the pack, there it was. A tall, strong, burly alpha named Ghost, A bear of an alpha named Price, and a muscular, rugged looking omega named Soap. An omega that looked more alpha then he ever did.

Now let me reiterate: Kyle Gaz Garrick is not a small or unimposing man of any means. He commands attention when he walks in the room and he is built. However, this is rooted completely in dysmorphia-type insecurity.

Let me also explain both soulmate and pack dynamics: There are 3 types of love: sexual, platonic, and romantic. Soulmates have a deep sense of sexual and romantic connection, whereas pack memebers usually have a platonic connection. Not to say a pack member couldn't feel a sexual attraction to another memeber, its just different from inherent connection. (Does this make sense?)

When Omega finally did meet the team? My lord, it was insane. Gaz asked her not to come over. He had invited her at first, told the team and everything, made a big fuss about finally introducing her, but backed out at the last minute. He told her that they were rescheduling the 'big party' cause Price got sick, but the omega could see thtough Kyles lies, shes known him for years.

So there she is, outside the packmates shared house in a cute little brownish, cream cardigan sweater and a long brown polka dot skirt. She had little coach heels on and a matching purse, her hair was done up all nice. She looked a dream.

And she was carrying things. A lot of things. The boys saw a car light approaching, Kyle wasn't there, so they knew to go to the door and it was wide open before she could even ring the doorbell

"Well, hello there, lass." Of course, it'd be johnny to see her first. The three men curcle around the door as Kyle rounds the corner out of the kitchen.

"Who's there?" He would ask stupidly, as if his omega isnt known for ignoring him when he had stupid commands. The guys would open their bofies a bit so he could see. The sweet little omega holding two boxes and a couple jars. He recognized the boxes as the ones she'd deliver atleast three times a month to him, they always had cute little hand written notes, ribbons, and tasted like they had been made with all the love in her heart.

The jars looked to be decorated with the same amount of care. It was clearly honey, and the jars had ribbon over them, a little label attached and everything.

"Hi sweetheart, where could i set these down?" And she walked in like she already owned the place. Johnny smirked as he walked past a stunned Kyle and led the other omega to the kitchen island where completed food was already sitting. "They're both apple, i was going to make rhubarb, but the farmers market didn't have any, isn't that a shame?" She made conversation easily with the man as he offered her a drink. She graciously took a strawberry lemonade.

John walked to Kyle and urged him into the living room, and Simon joined Johnny and the omega in the kitchen. "Did you do that on purpose?" He'd ask. Not that he actually thought he did.

And Kyle would be bewildered. John told him that the omega taht just walked through the door was his mate, and Kyles heart shattered.

John price was the epitome of alpha, and his omega was the epitome of omega. She would never choose him over his captain.

The dinner party had to continue. Simon couldn't keep the omega from traveling into the living room to find 'her kyle' . Once she did, she clinged onto the side of him and gave him a big fat smooch on his check before introducing herself to the older man.

She was bright and cheery and angelic. Almost too perfect. John couldn't believe she had been hidden from him for so long, hell none of them could believe it.

"I was telling Si and Johnny here that i brought some apple pies and home harvested honey. One jar is blueberry, l the others are just regular meadowflower." And then she went on a little rant about how she was trying to bring devilled eggs, but she couldn't collect enough before they needed to be done. (In her words: "with their big appetites and all") Apparently, her hens hate the changing seasons.

"So, you live on a farm? Or?" Simon asked eventually, he too was enamoured with the girl, and honestly jusy wnated her to speak more.

"Sort of a cottage more or less, decent property size so i can homestead. Im not like a super farmer person. I get my meat from the butcher, and i much prefer nice, safe milk over raw stuff." She would explain.

"It keeps me busy and feeling healthy, and i feel good that i can sell the produce and baked goods i make and help others feel good"

All the men in the room were wearing scent blockers, a habit from their military days, but the omega in front of them smelt strongly of spiced apple, cinnamon, honey biscuits, and hsppiness. It was addictive.

Simon left to go check on the supper, and John joined him. Johnny clinged onto the omega for a couple more seconds before deciding to go upstairs and leave Gaz and the omega now alone.

"Why'd you come here?" Would be the first thing Gaz would ask, quickly answered with a "dont you talk to me like that, I'll go where i want to go. Known you for practically our whole lives and you wanna talk about me being to 'sick' to finally meet your packmates? I dont think so."

And of course, all the boys would be listening in the kitchen and now silently laughing their asses off, and Gaz would look ashamed.

"Do we need to have a talk about this again, Kyle?" The omega would ask knowingly. Of course, he had discloused his insecurities to her. Not completely, not about her, but about not being bearly enough in comparison to his packmates, yes.

And kyle would nod. His eyes would fill with tears, and he would smile a bit sadly. God, this woman in front of him was so perfect, and so his, and all he kept doing was messing it up.

"Right now, we're gonna go in and help with supper, then, youre gonna drive me home because ill be to tired to do it myself, then your gonna stay the night at my place and we can talk over mama mia 2"

See, perfect.

[darlingsisterkisser]

sisters in the shower

hnggg

"sis!!! let me in!! i have to pee!" you pound on the door. she always takes an hour in the shower, and theres never hot water left for you. youre convinced all she does is hum or dance or something.

"ok. hang on!" you hear the water turn off, then a series of footsteps and clangs. finally the lock clicks and the door opens.

youre greeted by your sister, a thick waft of steam billowing around her. her damp hair clings to her dewy skin, lips slightly parted. her towel isnt so much wrapped as it is slung, loosely around her. 

she's all youll ever need.

her beauty is somewhat ethereal, like she's a fairy goddess from one of those shows you watched together as kids. those shows got cancelled or had a shitty ending. things changed, but you knew that one thing never would. how much you loved her.

to hide your blush, you brush past her briskly and step into the steam. you mess with the button to your slacks as she closes the door and walks back over to the shower. finally unclasping your pants, you relive yourself as the water resumes pitter-pattering on the other side of the bathroom.

"thank you.. for letting me in, i mean. that time you made me take a piss outside, as kids, was NOT funny." you scoff at the memory while you finish up. the water turns off and she pokes her head out, holding the translucent door semi-ajar.

"you gotta admit, back then, i never got to win!" she pouts, watching as you rebutton you pants and move to wash your hands. "with you being older, you were always better than me at everything. it was nice to see my big sis so embarassed and humiliated."

"im better than you because im cooler, not because im older" the cool water runs over the back of your hands, befose you lather on a bit of soap. "and what kind of sick and twisty shit did i do in my past life to be cursed with a sadistic lil sis?"

"you and everyone else love me. im the best." you rinse and dry your hands while her string of narcissistic remarks fades to the background. you reach for the doorknob when you come up short due to a resounding thunk.

"i slipped and tried to grab the water.." she sounds meek, an apparent tinge of shme in her voice. you turn to help her stand up, but shes already on her feet.

"owww..."

shes standing there, in the torrential flow of water, with her hand pressed to her back. you stand back taking it all in. the suds dripping off all, even slightly, protruding areas, the pathetic look on her face, the kicked dog aura surrounding her.. its all too much.

for the first time, you realize how fuckable she seems. what a slutty, grabbable body she has, and what a cruel world it is. she's your sister, not your girlfriend. you couldnt possibly think of her like that.. but you are. the thought of being with your own sister makes your pants get a little tighter and your heart beat a little faster.

 were you staring?

the tension hangs thick in the air, as she meets your eyes. the door mustve gotten knocked open as she slipped. you were never supposed to see her like this. the blush on her cheeks appears to deepen a shade or two, but you couldnt swear it wasnt your imagination.

"i... im just gonna go.." your voice quivers slightly towards the end of your phrase, betraying how uncomfortable you were. you take a step back slowly, trying to make it seem like its not a big deal that you just realized youre sexually attracted to your own flesh and blood.

"w-wait.. youre not going to stay and ask me if im ok?" the look in her eyes shifts from embaressment to need.. to... longing?

against your better judgement, you stay.. to make sure she doesnt fall again, or because she might be concussed.. or, at least thats what you tell yourself.

"are you okay?" you look over her again and notice a few bruises forming, a couple on her thighs and one on her elbow. something about the purplish blue marks on her soft, even skin stirs something in you as well.

"im fine, mostly rattled is all. it feels like if i move ill fall again." you notice the slight shake of her hands as she clutches at the shelves on either side and before you realize what it means, youre offering to get in with her.

you might be able to pretend that the thoughts you had about her body dont mean youre a bad person, but you know things will be ruined forever if you get in the shower with her. yet, youre already undressing.

youre not sure how things will play out, beimg so close to her while nude, but youre done stripping. clothes hit the floor as you look towards her for confirmation.

"do i even have a choice?" her words sound straight out of poorly made cnc porn.

"its for YOUR safety, dweeb." you mumble before stepping into the shower, and the path of the water, next to her.

"youre not gonna let me fall?" she looks at you with big teary puppydog eyes, pleading for her big sis to keep her safe.

the last of your resolve to be civil shreds, as the newfound desire to fuck your darling sister moves to the forefront of your mind. almost on instinct, your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her warm body into yours.

your, now fully hard, gock presses against her stomach as you sink your teeth into her neck to stiffle a moan. she tenses for a second and then relaxes.

"sis, what are you- no, we cant-" she babbles mindlessly, as you press her against the wall with your body. her physical efforts to put up a fight are miniscule, but she continues to protest verbally. this must feel natural for her, too.

"cmon, we can pretend this never happened, just let me go.." she whines, pressing her hands against your tits, still obviously not resisting. something in the back of your mind clicks and you realizes shes yours for the taking.

you lean more of your weight into her, cutting off her declaration that incest is bad by forcing your tongue into her mouth. a small little whimper of suprise escapes her before shes kissing you back.

somewhere in the haze of pleasure, her arms get thrown around your shoulders and your hands dip low enough to grope her ass.

you seperate the kiss only long enough to say, "m'gonna fuck you now, okay?" looking down to her needy eyes which hungrily stare at your lips as she nods.

"mhmm." she whimpers back, eager to press her lips to yours. she doesnt weigh very much to you as you lift her knee to her chest and raise her ass with your other hand. you gently rub your tip along her sticky slit before slowly burying yourself inside her warm folds.

"fuck, sis" you gasp into her mouth. this feeling.. its better than you ever couldve imagined. her nails dig into your skin slightly as you bottom out. "sis, are you a virgin??"

a small 'yeah' rings in your ears as she squirms in your grasp a bit. you just took your lil sis' virginity. the knot in the pit of your stomach tightens at the realization.

you slowly piston you hips against hers, desperate to get as deep inside her as possible. you notice her squirming get a bit more frantic and you pick up the pace.

her kissing, which wasnt great, degrades into her tongue lolling to the side as she pants into your mouth.

"can you finish inside me?" she squeaks out between thrusts, and thats all it takes to send you crashing over the edge.

you feel your body tense as you slam into her one last time before shooting rope after rope into her waiting womb. the sensation of being stuffed full of sisterdick and warm cum is enough for her too, apparently, because you get to watch her unravel in your arms shortly after.

you turn around to slide down the wall and sit on the floor with her in your lap, both hesitant to move.

afterall, sistercum is valuable, and neither of you are willing to waste a drop <3

[azulpitlane]

i love you, im sorry l fc43

summary: in which youre tired of your brother charles scaring off your dates, so you break his one rule—don’t date f1 drivers. you choose franco as revenge, but he doesn’t realize he’s being used and you don’t expect to fall for him.

tags: leclerc!reader, a bit of angst, DRAMA💜

notes: im still using my phone to post cause I haven't replaced my laptop lol so enjoy this draft. it was made during franco's rookie season so keep that in mind‼️

masterlist 1k celebration

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francolapinto and 15,493 others

yourusername night out

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user picnic date??🤨

user is she soft launching omg

charles_leclerc why have you turned off your location?

user she just posted 2 seconds ago, how fast do you type😭

user baby leclerc is on a date aww

arthur_leclerc charles says to answer to ur phone asap

yourusername well tell charles he is one call away from getting blocked

user charles is an annoying older brother confirmed✅

alexandrasaintmleux 😍 liked by yourusername

user her brothers freaking out in the comments is killing me

user free y/n from charles

-

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f1gossip

liked by arthur_leclerc and 27,290 others

f1gossip Y/n Leclerc on Lily Muni's instagram stories today. Many believe she's Franco's guest for the Abu Dhabi GP.

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user SHES AT WILLIAMS GARAGE??

user seeing her outside of ferrari isnt right...

user IS CHARLES OKAY???

user and she was pictured hugging franco earlier today oop-

user and she finally followed him back on ig 👀

user arthur liked this so hes probably showing charles right now😭

user poor y/n is probably gonna have her phone blowing up rn

user knowing francos been lurking in her likes before he even became an f1 driver is so funny

user was not expecting this but im obsessed

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yourusername 📍abu dhabi

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 45,839 others

yourusername another gp, but different view this time

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user SHES SOFT LAUNCHING FR THIS TIME

user so who gave u those flowers🤔

francolapinto better* view this time

arthur_leclerc do you have a death wish?

charles_leclerc you are lucky the season is over.

yourusername CHILL OUT???

francolapinto oh...

alexandrasaintmleux i need a debrief

yourusername yes yes😋 lets meet up at our usual place for drinks?

alexandrasaintmleux yes! ill text u

charles_leclerc IM COMING WITH

yourusername pls do not bring ur bf with

charles_leclerc I AM ALSO UR BROTHER! AND UNBLOCK MY PHONE NUMBER

user charles crashing out while franco is probably hiding in some corner rn

charles_leclerc i am calling maman and demanding a family meeting. you better show up, im not playing games anymore!

yourusername "no more mr nice guy" ahh reaction

arthur_leclerc lmfao

yourusername what are you laughing at?

arthur_leclerc nothing damn!

carlossainz55 hey so your brother is on the verge of a heart attack

yourusername is that ugly vein on his forehead protruding rn

carlossainz55 yeah actually wow! ive never noticed that

charles_leclerc ?!?!

yourusername 📍buenos aires

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 34,324 others

yourusername my tour guide around argentina is pretty cute

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user oh mygosh i was not expecting the hard launch so soon

user just gonna patiently wait for charles comments now

user the hottest couple ever omfg

leclerc_pascale hope youre having fun ma chérie❤️ be safe!

yourusername i am maman❤️ ill see you soon

charles_leclerc MAMAN?!?!

charles_leclerc this is just unnatural.

yourusername there's something seriously wrong with you but we gon get you professional help i promise <3

landonorris remember when i looked at you for 0.3 seconds and charles barked at me

charles_leclerc you were ogling. not staring.

alexandrasaintmleux you two make an ugly pairing.

yourusername CHARLES GIVE ALEX HER PHONE BACK?!

alexandrasaintmleux no.

francolapinto your natural hair😍😍

yourusername 🩷

user wait this was cute-

charles_leclerc barf.

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yourusername posted a close friends story

alexandrasaintmleux if this is franco, i’m gonna lose it.

yourusername um… so it’s franco.

alexandrasaintmleux YOU WERE JUST TOGETHER THOUGH??? IN ARGENTINA??

yourusername yeah, so… i kinda joked that he should come to monaco if he was serious about asking me out.

yourusername and he actually did😀😀

alexandrasaintmleux y/n!!! i thought this was one of your schemes to mess with charles?? this is starting to sound serious?

yourusername I KNOW AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

yourusername i thought he was just some fuckboy who wanted to sleep with me since he’s literally been flirting with me since day one, but now he’s saying he actually wants something serious.

alexandrasaintmleux oh my god. im actually speechless right now.

alexandrasaintmleux does he know the real reason you agreed to a date in the first place…

yourusername … no.

yourusername but in my defense, i didn’t think he’d take it seriously!! i thought he was just messing with me like always, so i went along with it to annoy charles.

yourusername and now he’s out here being all sweet and genuine and saying he actually wants to be with me and i think i might be in trouble.

alexandrasaintmleux 🤨🤨you’ve accidentally fallen for him, haven’t you?

yourusername …no comment

alexandrasaintmleux oh god, I'm nervous on how this is gonna end

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yourusername

liked by francolapinto, leclerc_pascale and 49,352 others

yourusername maman and i got a new chef and he was 1/10 would not recommend

tagged leclerc_pascale, francolapinto

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user so they're actually the only couple ever!

user maman leclerc approves aww

arthur_leclerc wow even I feel betrayed, am i being replaced?

user the leclerc men are so dramatic i'm crying

user wait I CAN CALL HER MY FAVORITE WAG NOW😜

lorenzotl beautiful ladies! so sad i couldn't make it

charles_leclerc excuse me?!?? am i not apart of the family anymore where I don't get invites😒

arthur_leclerc i didn't get one either...this hurts

charles_leclerc i've honestly run out of things to say

yourusername good cause he's coming to maman's birthday party

charles_leclerc WHAT

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yourusername posted stories

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[jaemlonfz]

can you do something about svt members wearing suits and holding their baby in the carrier infront and going for some event and the reader thinking "is it too soon to be wanting baby #2" 🫢 thank you <333

ps: i took over a MONTH to write this and i still think its not that good, i did not review it and english isnt my first language so im sorry if theres grammar errors, i hope yall like it wc: 3,1 K tw: there's the explanation and then pure filth, overall its basically all sorts of positions, crempie, praise kink in most of them, lmk if i forgot something so i was doing everyone in suits and wanting baby #2 but I started to think it was a bit silly because they all looked the same, so I changed the story for most of them. anyways i hope you still liked it, i made it with a lot of love and i apologize for taking so long

Seungcheol

You and Scoups were a public couple, fans distrusted you for years, you were always openly saying how much you loved seventeen's songs and still always singing Seungcheol's excerpts, and he openly talking about the films you star in without the slightest shame. So when you guys finally came out as a couple, your fanbase wasn't shocked at all.

A few years later as a married couple, after a one-year hiatus, you were seen in public with scoups carrying two little girls, that's how they found out that you had become parents of twin girls.

Years later, now with your daughters a bit older, you were getting ready for an awards ceremony, your burgundy dress matching with scoups tie, your girls' dresses in light pink. You were looking for your earring in every corner of your room when you went down to the living room to ask if your husband was with him, but when you arrived in the living room you saw the most adorable scene ever, Seungcheol trying to fix one of the girls' hairstyle while the another was stuck to his back kissing his cheek.

You can tell you felt your stomach turn at the Scoups' serious look as he tried not to ruin his daughter's hair, while the other looked at her father as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Scoups was such a wonderful, caring and kind father.

You guys hadn't really brought up the subject of having kids anymore considering all the work you'd put in with both of them at once, but now it's a topic you'll actually talk about after seeing your husband being an extraordinary father.

It was only when you arrived at the awards ceremony that you realized you only had one earring in your ear.

-

“How beautiful my dear wife, you already want to have another baby”

Seungcheol said pushing his length into you, as he wiped your tears and brushed the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Will you let me fill you up so you can get pregnant again? Do you want to have a big belly carrying my son again?

Jeonghan

You knew you wanted to have another child with Jeonghan as soon as you saw him carrying your newborn son in the hospital, but that's something that absolutely every mother feels so you honestly didn't pay much attention to the feeling. But now, on the exact same date, a year later, you felt the same thing but with an animalistic intensity.

It was your son's first birthday and you decided to have a party with just the child's grandparents. With a maximum of ten balloons scattered around the large room, the grandparents amused by the baby's toothless smile, you decided to grab a candle and a lighter so you could sing personalized congratulations.

returning to the room with a candle and the lighter in your hand it was completely involuntary to rub your legs with emotion after seeing Jeonghan with your son in his arms. They were both wearing matching clothes, they both had the same smile, the same eyes and the same nose, they were like clones. the baby's thin hair was the same tone as yours but he was still a miniature Jeonghan, and seeing him smile so sincerely with his son in his arms made your eyes water a little.

-

“Jeonghan I want another baby." You admitted once the baby was sleeping in the crib.

“Do you really want another child or do you just want me to fill you?” He said smiling, and after your response in the blink of an eye your situation was completely different.

Your back arched as your ass was in the air and you cried and screamed with your face in the pillow.

“You asked for it, now you handle it.” Jeonghan said kissing your back.

Joshua

Joshua has always been a very giving person, every sunday going to church to pray for the well-being of others, and at least once a month going to orphanages to care for sick or orphaned children. And it was on one of these trips to the orphanage that you met.

Now years later Joshua continues with the same cherished habit of providing for others, and that's how you discovered that necessarily marrying him and carrying his child in your womb

Joshua was in bed when they called from the orphanage saying that a new child had arrived, as always Joshua shouted from the bed and ran asking if you would go with him to meet the new family member, you obviously said yes, quickly getting ready with him.

When you arrived in place, you ran to the bathroom because you were holding on too tightly to make a good impression on the child. returning to the giant garden looking for an unknown face, who you thought was around 4 or 5 years old, you saw Joshua's back and his arms as if he was waiting for something. Joshua quickly noticed your presence and turned to see you.

The child was definitely no older than 6 months old, Joshua held her with so much care, looked at her with so much care and love that you felt your blood pressure dropping.

Joshua was born to be a father, and you were the only one who hadn't realized that yet.

-

Now you had your legs as close together as possible, squeezing yourself constantly trying to hold in the liquid that would give you a child without letting a drop leak out.

As soon as you got home you admitted your dirty thoughts towards Joshua, who quickly took off your clothes, turned you around and filled you up.

“If you really want my son, don’t let a drop leak.” Joshua said from the kitchen, making you a sandwich while you smiled with completely red cheeks.

Junhui

It was the first time you had been away from your son for more than 10 hours, and Junhui was a wreck. Both had already cried because you missed your baby while he slept peacefully next to you, and now the day of true farewell had arrived.

You were going to a wedding a few hours away, so in case it was to late on the way back, you had already booked a hotel room just in case.

At the moment you were adjusting your heels sitting on the bed, while you saw Hunhui on the baby monitor talking to the adorable baby. you managed to hear a few words like “i’m going to miss you.” or “don’t cry too much in your grandmother’s ear.” Junhui was already ready with his suit and you, now late, ran to your son’s room to say goodbye too. but when you arrived at the door, when you saw Junhui's look at the child, you didn't know how to describe whether your heart was tender or swollen.

As expected, it was very late when the wedding ended and you had to sleep at the hotel, you could feel Junhui awake and restless by the way he moved in bed, and it left you with a wonderfull idea.

-

“You're such a good father." You said, panting on top of Junhui, riding his dick. “So worried about your son." Now you lay down in the perfect position to whisper in his ear

“Let’s give him a brother so he won’t be so alone, let’s have another child to worry about." You said and I could feel your cock twitching inside your tight, damaged interior

Soonyoung

it was yours daughter's first halloween, and quite obviously, soonyoung dressed her up as a tiger.

Yall had absolutely no party to go to, and honestly you thought the idea of ​​going door to door with a baby in costume was a bit strange, so you only dressed up for some photos and to have a fun memory about your first halloween as a family.

Soonyoung obviously begs you for the whole family to be tigers, so while you were looking for a shirt of his with a tiger print or some other style of clothing, when you returned to the living room you saw the most heart-warming scene in the world.

Soonyoung was holding the small hands of the child, who was trying to stand, while they were both smiling widely, you couldn't help it and took a photo of the moment, certainly thinking about how beautiful it would look framed on the wall.

Now that your daughter was already asleep, you went to talk to soonyoung about the scene you saw and you were obviously teased about it.

“Since you liked me so much seeing our daughter, let’s have another one”

-

“Younggg…” You mumbled trying not to make noise so as not to wake the beloved child in the next room

“i also love seeing you with our baby, let’s do one more” He pushed his length into you, who groaned at the invasion without warning.

“Ohh… ​​please soon, let’s have another one”

Wonwoo

In fact, wonwoo took the initiative to have another child with you.

Wonwoo has a younger brother and he can definitely say that it is a wonderful thing to have someone to look after and be able to talk to, so after a year of your baby being born wonwoo called you to talk about it.

The conversation was absolutely very short, he simply admitted that he wanted another child and you opened the robe you were wearing and let it fall to the floor

-

“Such a willing mother.” He kissed your chin and quickly moved down to your neck. “Such a willing wife”

“How can you be so willing to make me happy." He smiled ramming his cock into you, who twitched beneath him

“Are you so wet just thinking about me bearing another child? Do you like to imagine me filling your brim?”

You managed to hear a chuckle from him as you hurriedly shook your head answering the question. “You will look so beautiful swollen with my son”

Jihoon

Honestly there wasn't a specific moment that you knew you wanted to have another child with Jihoon, because you always knew that once you saw this man as a father, you would never stop, but I really think the penny dropped when your son asked for a sister.

You were having a movie night when suddenly your three year old son asked for a little sister. your face automatically turned to Jihoon, who as already looking at you.

You talked to your son and said you were going to talk to his father about it, and when you saw your son's reaction, you swore to yourself that you would give this child a giant family to love

“You can rest assured that you’re going to have a little sister." You heard Jihoon whispering in your son’s ear while he was still looking at you

-

“Jihoon…” you whimpered underneath him, your legs spread, your arms up being held by your husband’s strong hand

“We have to fulfill our firstborn’s wish, and now is the perfect time”

Jihoon was referring to the weekend he was spending with his grandparents, you were definitely going to be pregnant by the end of this sunday.

dokyeom -

Today was your cousin's wedding and you were desperately late. putting on your heels as you jumped up to your one-year-old daughter who was in her crib still in her pajamas, after all you left her there to get ready first and dress her up later, but distracted by the happiness of putting on makeup for a big event again you completely lost track of what time .

Mentally cursing yourself for messing around so much while doing your makeup, you entered the room imagining the little girl with her hair all tangled up, a dirty diaper stinking of poop and her tantruming with hunger, but when you opened your eye, preparing for the worst you saw dokyeom a hand without a lap.

He was holding her in his arms, trying to keep her awake so she could rest later. Dokyeom was divine with those formal clothes and kinda wet hair, you were led to think about your husband making you feel good thinking about having another child

She was already dressed beautifully, her suitcase was already packed, her hair was in a beautiful hairstyle and with a beautiful bow that matched her dress. Dokyeom had done all of this knowing you would be late.

-

“do you want to see me be a father again? did you like me seeing our daughter today?” dokyeom said as he kissed your sweaty neck.

“are you going to let me fill you up again? will you let me breed you?" he laughed at your scrunched up face with no coherent thoughts in your brain.

Mingyu

That Mingyu is a famous model that everyone knows, and that you, his makeup artist, had great chemistry with him, everyone knows, that's how you met. Now married with two daughters, brands caught your opportunity to do a commercial featuring Mingyu as his girls' father, so you did him in makeup for the shoot.

It was a casual commercial, something like them at a picnic, an outdoor field. With a brush you touch up the makeup on Mingyu's tanned skin while others arranging the scene.

In the scenes, Mingyu had one on his shoulders and the other was running hand in hand with her father or with the two playing together while he smiled admiringly. Seeing this scene was something that super swelled your heart with love and warmed your insides with emotion at seeing your husband and daughters.

When you got home at the end of the day, you were both exhausted and fell into your crib like rocks.

-

“Mingyu, give me another child” He wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed and holding your legs in the air and starting to push his length into your wet core.

“You were certainly excited about me seeing it in the commercial today, right? Do you want to have another child after you saw me looking so hot taking care of the girls” He talked to you while your eyes rolled constantly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to only let you sleep tonight after you have an baby in your womb.”

Minghao

You and Minghao always had in mind that you wanted someone to love and call family, technical children would only come as a bonus if your partner also liked the idea of ​​procreating.

Minghao was a little piece of heaven, being everything good you could imagine, so when he thought about his thoughts about just wanting one person to call family without the obligatory need to involve a baby you were left in doubt.

Your first child was an accident and you discovered the pregnancy at 4 months, welcoming the pregnancy you saw the brightness in Minghao's eyes increasing even more, especially after your son was born.

Now, a few years later with an older child and already demonstrating some personality traits, you will see that any chance to bring lives with the same principles as Minghao you will definitely seize this opportunity.

So yes, practically you would get pregnant countless times if it meant several mini Minghao’s around the world.

“Let’s have another baby now Hao” You said as soon as Minghao sat on the bed getting ready to sleep, but now a night’s sleep is no longer guaranteed.

-

You were on your sides, lying on the bed, your pajamas were askew and your panties dragged to the side as Minghao pushed into you calmly.

“How beautiful asking me to get you pregnant, looking at me with such long eyes, your red cheeks and your sweaty hands.” He whispered in your ear slowly

“You were so nervous, did you think I would deny your request?” He kissed your neck moving his index finger to your sensitive spot “I will never deny you that”

Seungkwan

Seungkwan has always been romantic, and even after his first child was born he continued with this characteristic. Always bringing you flowers when he came home from work, bringing you your favorite chocolate or even asking for your favorite food to be delivered to your door while he was traveling.

So in his head, even though he knew that any basic conversation about having another child would probably end with you agreeing with him and you making the second child, but Seungkwan wanted to win over the second child, he wanted to win over you.

Suddenly Seungkwan would come home with clothes that were smaller than what your son was wearing because he had gotten "confused", sometimes he would take the foods you craved during pregnancy and ask you if it reminded you of anything or even buy a shirt written "big brother" for his son after all he hadn't even seen the print. So when you thought about it, you realized that Seungkwan was already way ahead of you, giving you clues about having another child from the beginning.

-

"Kwannie, if you wanted another baby you just had to tell me" You said on top of him, he had covered your face in shame the moment you discovered his plan and climbed on his dick.

"I didn't want to pressure you" He spoke shakily, you guys fit together so well. You were so magnificent on top of him.

"You deserve another child, and I will never feel pressured by something you do."

Vernon

Vernon has a good relationship with his sister. According to him, he and his sister were always friends and always counted on themselves in situations that their parents were unable to help. You have a good relationship with your brother, and you definitely agree with Vernon's wise words.

Gaining a sibling for both of us was like winning the lottery, receiving the best gift in the world, having a friend of your own blood. So you've definitely come to the conclusion that you're either going to have a couple of children or none at all, and as you're now going out with a five-year-old child, it's time to give the gift that you both managed to receive for the anxious firstborn.

-

“I forgot how addictive you are” Vernon mumbled as you moved on top of him.

“I think I’m going to try to get you pregnant every day from now on.”

Chan

Chan is a chaming person, and he actually its very good at making people do what he wanted, without them even knowing that. So when he saw you as a actual mother, holding your lilttle girl in your arms, Chan knew that all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was making you more and more of a mother and seeing you enjoying your motherhood.

Of course he would help around the house, he wanted to be a good husband/father so you could see his effort and give him a reward (a new baby)

Obviously Chan knew that your first pregnancy was very great and you did not suffer at all coparing to others mothers experience, and he knew if someday you started acting like that, it would be the end of the story. But he couldnt help himself when he saw you all curved up for him, with your tearing eyes begging for another baby

-

"Of couse i will give you another baby." He kissed your forehead as you mumbled below his muscular body

"How can i say no after you look at my so beautiful like that?" He whines in your ear seeing you tremble all up again.

"Such a beautiful mother." And yet again, Chan always get what he wants.

[igwb]

A Black Eye & Two Kisses. (III.)

"good men die too, i'd rather be with you."

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, angst

summary: it was the final journey, one that carried the weight of so many decisions, but deep down, you knew that no matter what you chose, jungkook would be there. he would always be there, right by your side. and you would make sure he was okay, just as he would do for you.

word count: 18K

warnings: angst, set in the 90s, mentions of; sexism, patriarcal society, shitty husbands/men in general :(, blood & violence, fluff & happy ending! ♡ yoongi & tae appearance!! love, love, love & so much love…

playlist: american money, western nights, with or without you

author's note: this isnt a one shot & this is the final part! you can find the first parts here;

part I. part II. part III.

As comfortable as the beige couch in the back room of the hair salon was, and as soft as the blanket draped over your body felt, sleep refused to come.

The walls were thin. You could hear the hushed voices of the two women outside, their quiet gossip mingling with the clinking of coffee cups.

“Taehee asked them to kill her husband.”

Your body jolted upright. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the muffled gasp that followed. The voices lowered instantly—a belated realization that you, Taehee’s daughter, were still there, listening.

“She asked me for the address of those men. I think she really wants to go through with it.”

The words rang in your head, each syllable sharp and cutting. Your stomach twisted. The idea of your mother going to them—to Jungkook—to have your father killed made your breath hitch.

Without thinking, you shoved your sneakers back on and bolted out of the salon, the two women staring after you, their mouths agape.

You desperately wished she hadn’t done it, that there was still time to stop her. To beg her to reconsider. As much as you hated your father, you didn’t want him gone—not like this. Not when you had spent your entire life rejecting violence in all its forms.

And your mother… she should have rejected it too. She knew violence. She had endured it. She had suffered under it for years. And yet, she had sought it out. She had chosen it.

Still, you couldn’t fully bring yourself to judge her. You weren’t the one who had been on the receiving end of his rage. You hadn’t suffered as long as she had. But even so—if she did this, wouldn’t she be just like him?

You hoped—no, you prayed—that Jungkook would come to his senses. That something in him would recognize your mother. That he wouldn’t let his own thirst for revenge for his own mother blind him into doing this.

You didn’t want him to do something like this. Not to your father. Not to anyone.

He wasn’t like that.

He was a good man.

You cursed yourself for lashing out at him yesterday. Maybe if you had just listened—really listened—if you had tried to understand why he did what he did, he would have reconsidered. Maybe he would have stopped himself before it was too late. Maybe you could have helped him, reminded him of the good in him before he let the darkness swallow him whole.

But no. Like a coward, you abandoned him. You left him alone with his thoughts, with the weight of his choices and the crushing consequences that followed. And now, you hated yourself even more.

You had promised to be there for him.

And yet, when it mattered most—you weren’t.

By the time you reached your home, your feet were sore, every step burning with exhaustion. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving. The metallic taste of blood coated your tongue from how hard you had been running—how hard you had been crying.

And yet, nothing could prepare you for what you were about to walk into.

You recognized his posture instantly. Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the way his broad shoulders slouched forward, how his head hung low, frozen in place as he stared at the front door of your home.

But it was his outfit that made your stomach twist.

The black tactical gear—the one you never wanted to see. Tight fabric clinging to him, one sleeve long, the other arm bare. His back adorned with the holster, a weapon strapped securely in place. A uniform of violence. A reminder of what he was capable of.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to move closer. Maybe you were just in time. Maybe you could stop him before he stepped inside, before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

Your voice wavered as you called out his name.

“Jungkook?”

You needed to see his face. To find something—anything—in his expression that would tell you he wouldn’t go through with it. That despite the hatred burning in his heart—toward your father, toward men like him—he could still choose a different path.

He didn’t turn around right away. You watched his fists clench tightly at his sides, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths—like he was trying to keep himself from breaking apart.

You took another step closer, hesitant, your movements small and unsure. Deep down, you knew—whatever happened next would change everything. Your life was standing at the edge of a precipice, teetering, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to know what lay beyond the fall.

“Kook?” Your voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the storm you could feel brewing inside him.

And then, finally, he turned around.

Your stomach lurched.

Blood.

It was smeared across his face, staining the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his nose. His hands—bloody. His black outfit—soaked.

Blood. Everywhere.

But he was standing. Unscathed. His body untouched by any violence.

Which could only mean one thing.

It wasn’t his.

It was your father’s.

It was too late.

You brought your trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the scream clawing its way up your throat, but nothing came out. No sound. No words. Just the crushing weight of silence as your lungs tightened, suffocating on the realization settling in your bones.

Your knees threatened to give out beneath you, legs shaking so violently you didn’t even know how you were still standing.

Jungkook moved instinctively, reaching out to steady you—but the second he caught sight of his own hands, dripping with blood, he yanked them back. He couldn’t touch you. He wouldn’t.

Not with this. Not with himself.

You didn’t deserve to be tainted.

Your body finally gave in, knees crashing against the cold concrete as the first sob broke free.

But it wasn’t yours.

It was his.

Jungkook fell beside you, his bloody hands clawing at his hair, his head bowing so low it looked like he was trying to curl in on himself—to disappear. To sink into the earth and never be seen again.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Again. And again.

Each time more broken. More slurred. Until the words themselves dissolved into his cries, swallowed whole by his grief.

You weren’t even crying. You couldn’t.

Instead, all you could do was watch Jungkook.

The man who had done this. The man who had done it for you.

But looking at him now, wrecked and unraveling, you realized something—this wasn’t victory for him. This wasn’t justice or relief. This was pain.

Jungkook was hurting. He had always been hurting.

Your body moved before your mind caught up, crawling toward him despite the sharp sting of gravel scraping against your palms and knees.

Your hands trembled as they hovered over his head, afraid to touch him, to feel the warmth of fresh blood that coated him.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

You hesitated for only a second before your fingers finally sank into his hair—right where it was still clean, untouched by blood.

“Hey,” your voice cracked, pleading. “Please. Please, Jungkook. I need you to explain everything to me.”

Because even though you already knew what had happened inside that house, you needed to hear him say it. You needed him to admit the truth.

But he only shook his head violently, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words, but nothing was clear—his sobs swallowed everything whole, turning his voice into nothing but a broken mess of anguish.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay steady even as your chest tightened.

“I need you to calm down for me, Kook.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you cupped his cheeks, ignoring the way his blood smeared against your skin. It didn’t matter. Not right now.

Because you knew—this was the only way to bring him back. To get him to breathe.

Jungkook clung to you like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms locking around you in a desperate grip. His whole body trembled against yours, like he was trying to make himself smaller, like he could just disappear if he held on tightly enough.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I swear, it wasn’t—”

Your fingers, which had been threading through his hair, suddenly stilled.

Your eyes drifted toward the house.

Jungkook must have felt the change in you because he pulled back, wide, desperate eyes searching yours. His face was a mess—blood smeared across his cheeks, his lips trembling, his entire body screaming please believe me.

And yet—truth.

You saw it, clear as day. The guilt. The sadness. But also, the truth.

Something inside you shifted, and before you could even process it, your body was moving.

You pushed yourself off the ground, your legs still shaky beneath you as you started toward the house.

Jungkook was on you instantly, hands grabbing your shoulders, his warmth pressing against you like an unspoken don’t do this.

“Baby,” he pleaded, voice hoarse, broken. He reached for your hands, trying to keep you close. “No, please. Don’t go in there.”

You shoved his hands away—not out of anger, but because you had to do this. You needed to see. To face it.

You took a step forward.

“Wait for me,” was all you said, your voice eerily steady, before you walked inside without sparing him another glance.

You push the door open, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes flicker around the dimly lit house. The air is thick—too still, too heavy. A soft whistle drifts from the living room, followed by the lazy hum of a voice, casual, almost serene.

Your steps are light, hesitant, but your body moves forward as if pulled by something stronger than fear.

And then you see her.

Your mother’s head peeks over the back of the sofa, her silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the lamp beside her. A glass of wine rests elegantly in her hand, her fingers wrapped delicately around the stem as she swirls the deep red liquid.

Her heels—her polished, pristine heels—are propped carelessly on a body.

Lifeless.

Your father’s body.

You try not to look. You shouldn’t look. But your eyes betray you, drawn to the scene despite every fiber of your being screaming against it.

His face is turned away, pressed into the thick fibers of the carpet, but the sight is still unbearable. The back of his dark hair is soaked, a deep crimson pooling around his head, staining the fabric beneath him. The blood has already begun to dry at the edges, smearing where it shouldn’t.

The world tilts beneath you.

Your mother takes a slow sip of her wine, exhaling softly as if this were just another quiet evening.

She must have seen you—your reflection flickering in the old television screen. Her eyes meet yours, widening in disbelief.

“You’re here,” she breathes, standing abruptly, her wine glass clinking against the table as she reaches for you.

You step back. Swat her hands away before she can touch you.

Her fingers are clean. Too clean. Cleaner than Jungkook’s, yet somehow, they feel filthier. It’s all over her—not just her hands but her face, her movements, her eyes.

Eyes that, unlike Jungkook’s, hold no pain. No guilt.

Only calculation.

“He—” she starts, voice trembling, a performance already beginning. “A boy. Around your age. He came in and—”

Then the tears come. Loud. Too loud. The kind that should shake a person’s chest but don’t. The kind that fill a room but leave it feeling empty.

She doesn’t realize it, but she’s already lost.

Her story doesn’t make sense.

Without meaning to, she’s told on herself.

And she doesn’t even know it.

She grabs your collar, her fingers clutching onto the fabric like a lifeline, but you shove her away.

“Don’t.” Your voice is cold, sharp. You raise a finger at her, your posture stiff, unwavering.

You should trust her—she’s your mother, after all. That’s what daughters are supposed to do. But how could you?

She says she cares, says she’s always cared. But this is the same woman who neglected you for years, who only ever looked at you with resentment, who never saw you as anything more than a burden.

You can’t trust her.

Not when you know what real guilt looks like.

Not when there’s a boy outside, broken, sobbing, wearing the weight of a crime he didn’t commit.

“Don’t try to make him guilty,” you say.

Her face shifts in an instant. The cracks in her act show. The performance is over.

Silently, she wipes away the tears that had managed to slip through.

“I don’t fucking care what you did,” you start, voice steady despite the rage simmering beneath your skin. “You had your reasons. I can understand them. But don’t you dare try to ruin someone else’s life because of it.”

Your voice comes out louder than you intended, the weight of your words crashing between you like a storm.

She scoffs—a cold, empty sound that chills you more than the sight of the body at her feet. She rolls her eyes as if you’re the one being unreasonable.

“So what?” she exhales, walking to the coffee table to pick up a cigarette. “How do you expect me to act, then?”

“You want to be strong? Want to be independent?” You take a step closer, jaw tight as you spit the words at her like venom. “Then fucking face the consequences like a woman.”

Every syllable burns your throat.

Because the truth is, for a moment, you really thought she had changed.

That night, when she held you after your father threw you out, when she handed you a packed bag like she had planned for this, when she looked at Jungkook and told you he might be good for you—

You thought, for the first time in your life, you had finally found a mother.

But now?

Now, you see the truth.

That woman never existed.

She had always been the same woman.

Engulfed in anger, swallowed whole by the unfair world she was forced to live in. She carried that rage like a second skin, let it shape her into something unrecognizable, something cruel.

Her hatred had no face, no single target—just an untitled entity, an ever-present shadow looming over her. She couldn’t name the root of it, couldn’t pinpoint where it began, but she made sure to nurture it, to let it grow until it consumed her completely.

And it did. It always did.

She tried, once. Tried to be good. For you. Because somewhere, buried beneath all the bitterness, she wanted to make things right.

But her hatred toward the world always came back.

It was all she ever knew. Hatred. Anger. Violence.

And in the end, it was all she had left.

You could give her two choices—two paths that would determine everything.

The first was to walk away. To disappear from this town, from your life, from everything that had led to this moment. She could let Jungkook’s people handle the mess, let them make the body vanish, let them erase the evidence as if none of it had ever happened. She could take the money, your father’s money, and finally live the life she always claimed she wanted. No more struggling, no more excuses, no more pretending to be a mother when she never truly was. You wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t chase after her. If she left, she would be nothing more than a memory—a closed chapter in a book you never wanted to read again.

The second option was to face what she had done. To go to the police, turn herself in, and admit the truth. I did it. No lies, no shifting blame, no pretending someone else’s hands were stained with blood when it was her own. It would mean consequences, judgment, prison. It would mean the end of the life she knew. But it would also mean accountability. A rare kind of justice in a world where women like her were rarely given the power to take it for themselves.

Whatever she chose, one thing was certain: you wouldn’t let her drag Jungkook down with her.

Because he was the only thing that mattered now. He had done things—terrible things, things you didn’t want to think about, things that made your stomach twist—but never to you. To you, he had been kind. He had been patient. He had been the only one who saw you, protected you, gave you something that almost felt like safety.

The only one who ever did.

Call it selfish, call it blind devotion, call it whatever you wanted—you didn’t care. You were willing to close your eyes to what Jungkook had done. Not because you didn’t understand the weight of it, but because you understood him. You knew what had led him to this, knew the pain, the anger, the desperation that had built up inside him for years. And you knew, without a doubt, that he could change. That he wanted to change.

You heard it in the way his sobs cracked through the silence outside. Saw it in the way his bloody hands trembled, as if he could still feel the weight of what had happened. He wasn’t numb to it. He wasn’t indifferent. And that was enough for you to take the risk. To throw yourself into the unknown with him, no matter how dangerous it might be.

Your mother, on the other hand, made her choice without hesitation.

Like the coward she had always been, she chose to run. To take the money and disappear into the life she had always dreamed of, without a second thought, without a glance back.

Not for you.

Not for him.

Not for anyone but herself.

She didn’t spare you another glance as you walked out the door, stepping out of the house that had never truly felt like a home. You knew you’d never come back—not to this place, not to the memories that had poisoned every corner of it. The family that once lived here was gone. If it had ever really existed at all.

For the first time, you felt the full weight of it—you were alone. Truly, completely alone. And yet, there was no urge to pretend otherwise. No need to cling to the illusion of a love that had never been there.

But maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

Your eyes landed on him.

Jungkook hadn’t moved. He was still kneeling on the pavement, his body curled in on itself, as if bracing for impact. As if he knew what was coming. His head lifted slightly when he saw you step outside, his breath catching in his throat. He was ready. Ready for you to scream at him, to shove him away, to hit him, to hate him.

He would take it. Whatever you gave him.

But he wasn’t ready for this.

He wasn’t ready for your arms wrapping around him, for the way your body sank against his, for the way your fingers curled into his hair like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

He wasn’t ready for your warmth.

And for the first time that night, Jungkook broke for a different reason.

Your embrace was abruptly broken by the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside. The black car came to a stop in front of the house, and two men emerged from it, their faces masked with indifference as they made their way inside without sparing a glance in your direction. They didn’t need to look at you, and they didn’t need to say anything. They knew what had to be done.

Before you could even process what was happening, before you could even bring yourself to watch them disappear into the house, you grabbed Jungkook’s arm and pulled him to his feet. His gaze was distant, lost, but you didn’t give him a chance to protest. You had no words to offer him—only the feeling that something had to be done, that it was time to leave.

“Let’s go home,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside.

Home.

It wasn’t a house or a place you had ever known, but it was where you felt safe now. The small motel room, tucked away from the world, where nothing could hurt you, where you could hide away from the mess that had become your life.

You didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care about what came next. It was just you and him. And that was all that mattered.

He remained silent, not a word escaping from his lips as you gently removed his clothes. There was no resistance, no hesitation. He didn’t even meet your gaze, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, or perhaps he simply couldn’t find the strength to do so. He let you tend to him, taking care of him like you would a child—soft, delicate, with the kind of care he had never known despite from his mother.

You didn’t ask for any explanation, didn’t push him for words. His silence was enough. You didn’t need him to tell you what had happened, you didn’t need the details. You already knew. What mattered was that he was here, with you, and that he hadn’t pushed you away. That was enough.

When the room was bathed in darkness, the only light now coming from the faint moonlight filtering through the window, he whispered, barely audible, “I love you.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and raw. You froze for a moment, your heart stuttering in your chest. It wasn’t just the words, it was everything behind them.

You turned toward him, your eyes wide, instinctively reaching out for him. He was lying on his back, his hands resting over his stomach, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. There was a subtle tremor in his body, a trace of uncertainty in the way he lay there, as if he was still unsure of your reaction. His confession wasn’t just a declaration—it was a fragile offering, a piece of him that he was terrified to give away.

You swallowed hard, your voice soft as you responded, “I love you too.”

You could feel the weight of your own emotions, the rawness of everything that had passed between you. But in that moment, in that silence shared between the two of you, you both understood without needing to say anything else. The love wasn’t just in the words—it was in the way he let you care for him, in the way you let him fall apart and still found it in yourself to hold him. It was in the trust, the unspoken promise that, no matter what had happened, you’d stand together now.

You didn’t know what the future held, what you both would have to face tomorrow or in the days to come. But for now, the world outside seemed distant, irrelevant. In this moment, it was just you and him, two souls tangled in the quiet of the night, clinging to each other in a way that felt both fragile and irrevocable.

The sun filtered softly through the gap in the curtains, its warm rays hitting the room, stirring the stillness that hung heavy in the air. You hadn’t even remembered to close them last night, too lost in the quiet aftermath of everything that had happened.

It was Friday.

The day that seemed like it would stretch on forever, yet the ticking of the clock reminded you that time was running out. You could feel the weight of it, the pressure in your chest—soon, the men would come. And you had no idea what would happen once they did. Everything was teetering on the edge of uncertainty.

Jungkook was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful, his breathing even. He was calm, vulnerable in the most fragile way, as if he had found a semblance of peace in the quiet of this room. You almost felt guilty for the thought that soon, you’d have to wake him up to face a reality neither of you were prepared for.

His life, your life—it felt like everything was still hanging by a thin thread. The future seemed so blurry, like a fog you couldn’t break through. You didn’t know what would come next, or how any of this would play out. But the reality was clear: no matter what, it wasn’t going to be easy.

But you couldn’t avoid it. The future was uncertain, but one thing was for sure: you would face it together. Even if the road ahead was dark and winding, you couldn’t let go of him.

“Kook,” you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the outline of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. It was grounding, comforting, a rhythm that reminded you that he was still here, with you. Still alive, still fighting, even if you both didn’t fully understand what that fight meant yet. You couldn’t imagine letting go of this connection, the warmth of his presence beneath your touch.

He stirred, a low groan escaping his lips, his pout deepening as his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. He looked so innocent—more innocent than you’d ever thought possible. It was strange, almost surreal, to see him like this, especially when you knew the weight he carried on his shoulders, the blood on his hands. But in this moment, there was a vulnerability in him, one that almost felt untouched by the world’s cruelty.

In that softness, you could see it—the innocence that had been stripped from him far too soon, the innocence that life and people had cruelly taken away. But you would make sure, you promised yourself, that he would find it again. That he would learn to live beyond the pain and darkness, to see himself in a light that wasn’t defined by what he’d been forced to endure.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger there just a little longer than you’d intended. It was a soft, tender moment, but you needed him to wake up, to face the world, even if it felt impossible right now. “Baby,” you said again, your voice softer, coaxing him out of his slumber.

That was when you felt the shift. His lips twitched into a grin, the corners of his mouth curving upward in that familiar bunny smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “You like that when I call you baby?” you teased, pinching his cheeks gently, your fingers grazing the soft skin.

Before you knew it, you were showering him with tiny kisses, pecking his cheek, his forehead, his nose—just to feel him respond, to feel the spark of life that still resided in him. It wasn’t enough just to exist beside him. You wanted to make him feel alive, wanted him to remember there was still love, still tenderness in this cruel world.

And in those moments, you could pretend that everything else—the violence, the danger, the uncertainty—didn’t exist. In that simple, beautiful exchange, it was just you and him, and that’s all that mattered.

He gently wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you effortlessly, and pulls you onto your back once more. His body hovers above you, warmth radiating from him as his lips find yours. Soft and tender, his kisses trail from your forehead, brushing over your eyes, before finally landing on your lips. You breathe him in, your body relaxing into the weight of his gentle touch, as his kisses move lower, grazing your neck—a spot that’s always been a place of comfort for both of you.

“I like it,” he murmurs into your skin, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something more genuine. His breath is warm against your pulse as he speaks, and you can’t help but smile, a mix of affection and the quiet relief of being so close to him.

“I like it too when you call me that,” you admit softly, your hands slipping around his back to pull him even closer, the comfort of his presence grounding you in this moment.

He lets his breath ghost over your skin, each exhale a silent confession of everything he couldn’t say before, but now needed to. His words are quiet, but they come with a weight that settles between you both. “I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you, not after everything… but thank you. Thank you for trusting me.”

His words seem to hang in the air, a promise and an apology, both tangled together. You feel his hands gently move along your body, every touch deliberate, careful, as if he’s making sure you know just how deeply he feels. His chest presses close to yours, his heart beating in rhythm with yours, the warmth between you creating a perfect, fragile connection.

He holds your gaze, his eyes intense yet vulnerable, conveying every unspoken thought. His movements are slow, almost reverent, as if he’s savoring every moment, every inch of this intimacy. There’s a depth to it, a quiet understanding that speaks louder than words. In the silence, you can hear him—not just through his lips, but in the way his body speaks to yours, telling you without a doubt how much he loves you.

Jungkook’s quiet sobs racked through his body, his chest trembling with every soft sound of pain and longing. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, as if trying to disappear into you, to make sure you were the last thing he felt, the last thing he could hold onto. His movements were slow but urgent, as if he wanted to imprint every sensation into his memory, to make sure that you were the final image that stayed in his mind.

With every kiss, every touch, he was telling you without words that this was all he wanted—you. His heart, his soul, his entire being, all focused on you in this fragile moment.

“I love you,” he whispered through his tears, his voice cracked, as if the weight of his emotions was too much to carry. “I love you so much, and I just… I want to be with you forever. You’re the last thing I need, the last thing I want to feel.”

You could hear the pain in his voice, the fear of losing this, of losing you. And yet, despite the tears, there was a tenderness in the way he moved, the way he whispered your name, as if trying to cherish every second, every movement.

You held him tighter, your own heart aching with the intensity of the moment, and whispered back, “I love you too, Jungkook. Always.”

And as he continued, each movement slower than the last, it felt like time was stretching out, like this was a fragile thread between you both, one that neither of you wanted to let go of. His body shuddered with every breath, as if trying to memorize everything about you, as if trying to make sure that, no matter what happened, you would be the last thing he would know.

A knock echoed against the door, sharp and final, like a countdown to the inevitable. Jungkook glanced at you, lying there with your hair scattered across the pillows, an angelic sight despite the chaos swirling around you. Your eyes were wide with fear and disbelief, locking onto him as if hoping for some sign that this wasn’t really happening.

His chest rose with a deep breath, his entire body tense as he slowly pulled out of you, a deep sadness in his gaze. He slipped out of the bed, his movements mechanical, like someone accepting their fate. He didn’t need to say it aloud—he knew what was coming. No amount of money, no amount of bargaining or pleading, would ever be enough to satisfy the primal need for vengeance that others carried in their hearts. He understood that better than anyone. People like him.

His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled on his jeans, the denim cold against his skin, before he buckled his belt with a practiced, resigned motion. He threw on a t-shirt, the fabric settling over his torso like armor he never wanted to wear but had no choice but to don.

He turned to look at you, and in that moment, he saw you clutching the sheets to your chest, your face filled with worry, fear, and a silent plea for him to stay. “Jungkook,” your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it struck him like a blow. You were rushing to dress yourself too, panic rising in your chest as the reality of the situation hit.

The knock came again, louder this time, more urgent, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced back at you one more time, the silent love in his eyes a stark contrast to the grim resolve in his movements. “I’ll be back,” he promised, though neither of you believed it.

The knock came again, insistent and unforgiving. He turned and, with one last lingering look, opened the door, stepping into whatever fate awaited him on the other side.

A familiar voice cuts through the tense air, smooth and deep, tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Took you long enough.” The man standing at the door has sharp, cat-like eyes, his smirk almost playful as he flicks his cigarette butt onto the floor, his gaze sweeping over Jungkook as he stands at the threshold.

Jungkook’s heart feels a weight lift at the sight of him. “Yoongi,” he breathes out, the name almost a relief. If he could, he would have run into the older man’s arms, seeking some semblance of safety, some connection to hold on to. He had been ready to face whatever was coming for him, but seeing Yoongi, there was a brief moment where it felt like the world slowed down, allowing him a few more minutes, maybe even an hour, before everything came crashing down.

Without ceremony, Yoongi tosses a duffel bag to the floor at Jungkook’s feet. “It was at my door,” he mutters, his voice casual, almost bored, as he drops his cigarette to the floor. “Thought I’d bring it to you. You know how it goes.”

Jungkook stares at the bag, a frown tugging at his features as he nudges it with his foot. The bag feels heavier than it looks, bulging with something more than just clothes or gear. “What is that?” he asks, his curiosity creeping in, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, walking over to the bag and crouching down to unzip it. “A lot of money. More than we ever asked for.” He scoffs as if the amount was nothing out of the ordinary, his fingers rummaging through the contents with ease. “Someone sure is generous today.”

Jungkook’s mind struggles to catch up, his words faltering. “Is it—” He swallows hard, the knot in his stomach tightening. Only one person could have arranged something like this, only one person could have pulled this off.

“Yeah,” Yoongi cuts him off with a slight chuckle, “the crazy one.” He gives a short, dry laugh, his gaze distant for a moment as if recalling a memory. “She’s something else, that one. Honestly, didn’t think she’d come through with all of it. But here we are.” Yoongi pats Jungkook on the shoulder, the gesture almost mocking, but there’s a flicker of something else—perhaps acknowledgment. “Guess you did a good job. She’s pleased.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as the weight of it sinks in. “I didn’t—” His voice trails off, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t do anything. She fucking did it. She was the one—”

Yoongi’s voice snaps him back to the present. “You’re not off the hook yet, kid. But this? This is a hell of a start.” He gestures at the duffel bag like it’s nothing, as if it were just another day in their fucked-up world. “You got the money, now it’s time to figure out what the hell you’re going to do with it.”

You step out of the door, unable to stay inside any longer. Your pulse quickens as your gaze moves from Jungkook to the man standing next to him—his face familiar, but not a person you’ve ever really seen up close. The recognition hits you, but you can’t place where exactly you’ve seen him before.

As your eyes flick down, the duffel bag at Jungkook’s feet catches your attention. Your heart skips a beat, and you already know what the answer will be, but the question slips out of your mouth anyway. “What is that?”

The question hangs in the air, and Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his tongue absently toying with the lip ring that rests on his bottom lip. He glances at Yoongi over your shoulder, his eyes unreadable.

Yoongi, standing a few feet away, assesses the situation with sharp eyes, his gaze flicking between you and Jungkook. His expression is calculating, like he’s trying to figure out who you are, how you fit into this whole mess.

“Money,” Jungkook mutters, voice low. He takes a deep breath before continuing, and you feel the weight of his words land on you even before they hit your ears. “From your mom.”

The second those words leave his lips, Yoongi’s eyes widen. His reaction is immediate, the surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with a scoff. He mutters a curse under his breath, clearly caught off guard.

“Well, well,” Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head in disbelief. “She really did go all in, didn’t she?” He steps forward, his gaze flicking over the bag once more. “Guess that explains a lot,” he adds, a mixture of intrigue and disbelief in his voice.

You kneel down in front of the duffel bag, your fingers grazing over the stacks of money inside. The weight of it is overwhelming, not just in terms of its physical presence but the meaning behind it. It feels like a final attempt from your mother in her twisted, complicated way, she still wanted to make sure you had a chance. That there was one last opportunity for something better, something that didn’t involve this suffocating life.

The thought that this money could be your ticket out of here, a chance to start fresh with Jungkook, feels surreal. Maybe it wasn’t just a gesture for you. Maybe it was the last act of someone who knew they had nothing left to give except this—an offering to keep you safe, to ensure that the chaos and darkness of your life didn’t swallow you whole.

Your breath catches in your chest as you lift your gaze from the bag and meet Jungkook’s eyes. A smile tugs at your lips, despite the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. “Jungkook, we have enough money now,” you murmur, trying to hide the mix of disbelief and excitement.

And before you can even process the full weight of the moment, a laugh bursts out of you, uncontrollable and full of something between relief and disbelief. You throw yourself into his arms, seeking comfort in his warmth, feeling the tension in your body loosen for just a moment.

Jungkook holds you tightly, but there’s hesitation in his touch. His fingers don’t grip you like they usually do. They linger, unsure. You feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his chest rises and falls. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to let himself hope that this might actually be the way out.

“I don’t know,” he mutters quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and clouded with doubt. “They could still turn on me. What if they don’t keep their word?” The fear in his voice is raw, and you can hear the struggle in his words—the desperate hope and the deep-rooted fear that it might all crumble, that his life is still hanging by a thread.

Before you can reassure him, the older man, Yoongi, lets out a low laugh from behind you. He’s been watching the scene unfold with an almost amused expression, his arms crossed as he observes the two of you. “Enough money for what?” Yoongi asks, his voice skeptical, but laced with curiosity. He’s still not quite sure what you two are planning, what your next move is. His eyes flick between you and Jungkook, waiting for an explanation.

Jungkook looks at the floor for a moment, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze. Then, he opens his mouth, his voice barely audible, a hint of shame in his words. “I… I want to get out of here. Far away from all this. No more running, no more hiding. Just… somewhere safe. Somewhere we can start over.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re not just going to take the money and run off into the sunset, are you?” His tone is more knowing than mocking, and it stirs something inside of you—a sense that Yoongi, even with his tough exterior, knows exactly what you and Jungkook are up against.

Jungkook looks up, his eyes hardening as he glances at Yoongi. “We have to. It’s the only way out,” he says, a firmness in his voice now.

You squeeze his hand tighter, and as much as Yoongi’s words cut through the fragile bubble of hope you’ve allowed yourself to create, you refuse to back down. You can’t—this is your chance, your only chance.

“We’re leaving,” you say, your voice steady, no longer wavering. “We’re going somewhere else, somewhere no one can touch us.”

Yoongi leans back against the wall, letting out a long sigh as he exhales. “You really think they’re just going to let you go? You don’t think they’ll come after you?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken, the fear in his expression now shifting into something else—a mix of anger and determination. “Let them come,” he says, voice low but filled with resolve. “I’ll face whatever I have to.”

The tension in the room thickens, and you feel the weight of the decision you’ve made press against you like a heavy burden. But you can’t go back now. You won’t. You’ve come too far, and this is the only way out—for both of you.

Yoongi watches the two of you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he uncrosses his arms and sighs. “Well, if you’re sure, then I guess there’s nothing more to be said. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. The road ahead’s not going to be easy.”

He looks at the duffel bag of money at Jungkook’s feet, the final piece of the puzzle, the last thread of hope. “But, good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

With that, he turns on his heel and walks away leaving you and Jungkook standing in the silence, the weight of everything hanging between you.

“We should go,” Jungkook says urgently, his voice steady despite the underlying tension as he grabs your hand and pulls you back into the room. His touch is firm, like a lifeline—like he’s already imagining the future, a future away from all this chaos.

“We should run away and never come back,” he continues, his words tumbling out in a rush as he starts throwing his belongings into his backpack, each motion quick and deliberate. “They won’t find me.” There’s a determination in his voice, one that makes you feel like this could be your chance to leave it all behind, to disappear for good. You don’t hesitate; you start packing too, grabbing only the essentials, only what truly matters.

Minutes pass in a blur. You work in sync, moving quickly, but the heavy weight of time still presses on you, as if the clock is ticking down to something inevitable.

“Where should we go?” you ask, your voice lighter than it should be, the smile on your lips a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Despite everything, despite the fear that still lingers in the pit of your stomach, you can’t help but feel a spark of something else—hope.

“Jeju,” Jungkook replies without missing a beat, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. “I always dreamed of a house there.” He pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with that familiar, gentle smile—the one you’ve come to love. His eyes soften, and his lips pull up into his signature bunny smile. “We could build something there,” he adds, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the idea of it still feels too surreal.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. It’s just the two of you. You nod, the smile never leaving your face, and without saying anything more, you both finish gathering your things, making sure nothing important is left behind.

Together, you head for the door, hands clasped tightly. Jungkook’s duffel bag hangs over his shoulder, and the weight of it doesn’t seem so heavy anymore. It’s not just the bag; it’s the future that feels lighter now, somehow more attainable.

You walk out of the motel room, side by side, the door clicking shut behind you, leaving that part of your life behind. It feels like a fresh start, even if you can’t quite believe it yet.

Hand in hand, you step into the unknown—ready to create a life of your own, far away from everything that has tried to break you both.

You should have told him to stay. To face the consequences, to settle his debts the right way, because that’s what people are supposed to do. But the world wasn’t built on what was right—it was built on power, on survival. And now that you had seen firsthand what people were capable of, how violence could be so easily justified, so casually executed, you knew better. You knew that no amount of money was worth his life.

So you would run. Hide. Disappear into the cracks of the world where no one could find you. With this much money, you could vanish for years—long enough to become ghosts, long enough to start over somewhere new, somewhere safe. Maybe even settle down, live a quiet life, far from the bloodstained streets you were leaving behind.

It was an ugly truth, but you couldn’t ignore the relief blooming in your chest. As much as you resented her, you couldn’t deny that, in her own twisted way, your mother had given you a final gift. The closure you had needed. The chance to walk away from it all.

You weren’t sure where she had gone, or if she would ever truly find the happiness she was chasing. But in that one final act—handing over enough money to buy your freedom—she was telling you to find yours.

And you would.

Jungkook suddenly stopped in his tracks, his grip on your hand loosening before he let go entirely.

“Wait,” he said, his voice rushed, breathless.

You turned around immediately, heart pounding at the sudden change in his demeanor. His face was pale, his brows drawn together in a way that made worry settle deep in your chest.

“Are you okay? Did you forget something?” you asked, already reaching to take the duffel bag from his grasp, thinking maybe he was struggling under its weight.

“Yeah… Sukchul,” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

Relief flooded through you when you realized it wasn’t something life-threatening. You had half-expected him to say something that would shatter the illusion of escape you were holding onto.

“I have to tell him I’m going,” he continued.

Before you could say anything—not that you would have stopped him—he was already turning on his heel, heading toward the small, weathered shop.

And honestly, you were glad. You wanted to see the old man one last time, too. Because deep down, you knew that if you ever did come back here, there was a chance he might not be here anymore.

The old man emerged from the storage room the moment he heard the bell chime. His face softened into a gentle smile as he took in the sight of both of you standing there, hands clasped together, backpacks slung over your shoulders. His gaze lingered for a moment on your intertwined fingers, on the quiet determination in Jungkook’s eyes, and the way yours glowed with something close to hope.

“I’m glad you’re not leaving alone this time,” he said, his voice warm but laced with something bittersweet. He busied himself with placing a record back on its shelf, as if focusing on something mundane would make saying goodbye easier.

But this time, his farewell wasn’t weighed down by worry. This time, he felt relief.

Jungkook squeezed your hand once before letting go, stepping forward and pulling the older man into a tight embrace. Sukchul hesitated for just a second before returning it, patting the younger’s back.

“I’ll do things right this time,” Jungkook murmured, voice thick with quiet resolve.

You watched as Sukchul pulled away slightly, studying the boy—no, the man—he had watched stumble through life, making mistake after mistake, but never truly losing himself. You wondered if the old man had always known. If he had turned a blind eye to the things Jungkook had done, hoping that one day, he would choose a different path.

And now, he was.

You knew just how much Sukchul meant to Jungkook. Even after years of running, of losing himself in the chaos, he always found his way back to the old man who had once given him warmth when the world had been nothing but cold. Sukchul was the one constant in his life, the one person who had never turned his back on him.

“You’ll take care of him, right?” Sukchul’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head at the absurdity of the question. “Of course, I will.”

Because even though Jungkook had spent years surviving on his own—hardened, rough around the edges, someone who had learned to depend on no one—he still needed someone. Maybe now more than ever.

He needed someone who would take care of him, not because he couldn’t do it himself, but because no one ever had. He needed someone to be his friend, his family—the kind life had ripped away from him too soon. And yes, he needed someone to love him, not out of obligation, not because it was expected, but because he deserved it.

With Jungkook, you were someone. You were already someone. Not just the girl he held onto, not just the idea of stability in a world that had never given him any. You weren’t just the woman he wanted to settle down with because that’s what men his age were supposed to do.

You were the one who made him feel safe.

The one who made him feel something real.

Enough that he hadn’t run away this time, even when his life was at risk.

Enough that he had broken his promise—had chosen to walk away instead of taking another life, instead of killing the man who had caused you so much pain.

Because it was you.

The sound of an old, familiar engine roaring through the streets made both of you turn around sharply. Your stomach clenched, heart hammering in your chest as you realized—there was no more time. They were probably at the motel by now, searching the streets, trying to predict where Jungkook would go. It wouldn’t take long before they thought of the record shop.

“Fuck.” Jungkook cursed under his breath, fingers tightening around yours.

Sukchul furrowed his brows, glancing between the two of you. But then, as his gaze landed on the way you clutched at Jungkook’s arm, your wide, panicked eyes darting between him and the door, his face softened with understanding. He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as if this was something he had seen before.

“Take my car,” he said simply, without hesitation, tossing the keys to Jungkook.

Jungkook caught them mid-air, blinking in surprise. “Sukchul—”

“Don’t argue,” the old man cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. “Just go. Get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”

Jungkook looked down at the keys in his hand, jaw tightening. The weight of Sukchul’s kindness settled heavy in his chest. It reminded him of a memory he had long buried—the day a woman had once done the same for his mother, handing over a set of keys with quiet urgency, telling her to run.

It was a debt he had never been able to repay.

His throat felt tight, but he nodded, shoving the keys into his pocket before grabbing your hand again. “Let’s go.”

You looked up at Sukchul one last time, your chest swelling with gratitude, with the bittersweet understanding that this was goodbye. You wanted to say something—to thank him, to promise you’d take care of Jungkook—but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“Go,” Sukchul urged again, but his voice was gentler this time. “And don’t look back.”

And so you didn’t.

With Jungkook leading the way, fingers laced tightly with yours, you ran.

You barely had time to catch your breath before throwing yourself into the passenger seat. Jungkook tossed the duffel bag and his backpack onto the backseat, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his eyes flickered between the rearview mirror and the empty road ahead. His breathing was shallow, panicked, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You reached out instinctively, placing your hand on his thigh, trying to ground him.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through you.

He turned the key in the ignition, the car coming to life with a low rumble. His fingers flexed around the wheel, knuckles turning white. “Fuck,” he muttered, exhaling sharply. “I can’t drive for shit.”

A laugh burst from your chest before you could stop it. The confession was so unexpected, so ridiculously timed, that it cracked through the tension in the car like lightning.

Jungkook turned to you, his wide, doe-like eyes narrowing in faux annoyance. “Stop making fun of me,” he mumbled, lips twitching like he was trying to hold back a smile.

You bit your lip, failing miserably at suppressing another laugh.

“I’ll teach you,” you promised, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. “Just like you did with me and the bike.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, but you could see the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly.

“Alright, first thing’s first,” you began, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. “The big pedal is the gas, the other one is the brake—”

“Shut up,” he groaned, but there was warmth in his voice now, a small, reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he listened to you explain.

Jungkook started the car, the vehicle jerking forward awkwardly before he pressed down on the gas a little too hard. The sudden acceleration made him yelp, his hands gripping the wheel for dear life.

“Don’t put too much pressure on the pedal!” you shouted, instinctively reaching for the dashboard like it would somehow steady the car.

He muttered something under his breath, barely audible over the rumbling engine. “Come on, you can’t always be good at something the first time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound slipping out before you could stop it. “That’s funny, coming from the guy who bragged about knowing how to ride a bike perfectly on his first try.”

Jungkook groaned, but you caught the small smirk tugging at his lips. The memory was still fresh in your mind—him, cocky as ever, guiding you on his bike like he’d done it a thousand times before. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Like you’d known him forever.

Eventually, he got the hang of it, the jerky movements smoothing out as he focused on the road ahead. The city slowly faded behind you, the buildings growing smaller in the rearview mirror. You watched as the streets you once called home disappeared, replaced by the vast stretch of the highway leading to an uncertain future.

The silence between you was comfortable until Jungkook finally spoke. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive.”

You turned to him, watching the way his fingers clenched the steering wheel like it might slip from his grasp. “I don’t,” you admitted.

His brows furrowed, eyes flickering to you before snapping back to the road. “Then—”

“I just said whatever felt right,” you interrupted with a soft smile. “I needed you to calm down.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he exhaled, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. His grip loosened on the wheel, shoulders relaxing just enough for you to notice.

He glanced at you again, longer this time, eyes shining with something unreadable. Yeah, you were definitely the one for him.

Jungkook handed over the bills, leaning down slightly to speak to the woman behind the counter. “Two tickets for Jeju, please.” His voice was smooth but impatient, his fingers drumming lightly against the surface as he waited.

You stood beside him, eyes darting around, keeping a sharp watch over your bags. Every passerby felt like a potential threat, and you weren’t about to let anyone ruin this for you. This moment, this escape, was too precious.

The woman behind the counter took longer than expected. His lip ring—a telltale sign of his growing frustration. He turned to you, rolling his eyes dramatically, just as the woman finally slid the tickets toward him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice dripping with exaggerated politeness as he raised his eyebrows at her.

You scoffed, shaking your head as the two of you stepped away from the counter, making your way toward the waiting area for the ferry.

“You’re such a brat,” you muttered, shoving the duffel bag into his arms.

Jungkook grinned, slinging the bag over his shoulder effortlessly. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

Your smile deepened, warmth creeping up your cheeks. The weight of his words settled comfortably in your chest—you love me anyway. And you did. You weren’t afraid to say it, not with him.

“I do,” you admitted softly, eyes dropping to your sneakers as if the confession made you shy.

But before you could revel in the moment, Jungkook suddenly gasped, his hands gripping your shoulders as he spun you around to face him.

His eyes were wide, excitement brimming in them, and his signature bunny smile stretched across his face. “Wait, I need to do something real quick. Wait for me, baby,” he said, breathless.

You barely had time to react before he turned and bolted back toward the port station, disappearing into the crowd.

“Jungkook—” you called after him, but he was already gone.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly as you clutched the strap of your bag.

You sat outside, waiting for the ferry, surrounded by strangers. The air was thick with the unfamiliarity of a new place, and though the sky was clear, a sense of unease settled in your chest. You hated being alone, especially here, where you knew no one and where Jungkook was nowhere in sight. You had been counting the minutes since he left, your fingers tapping anxiously against your knee.

It wasn’t just the waiting that unsettled you—it was the way people looked at you. Travelers passed by in pairs or groups, families keeping to themselves, couples holding hands. You were the odd one out, a girl sitting alone, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

One man, in particular, kept glancing at you. His gaze lingered too long, filled with something unreadable. Annoyance bubbled in your chest.

“What?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

The man chuckled, raising his hands in defense before bowing his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer.

Now that he was near, you realized he wasn’t much older than you. His features were soft despite the way his boxy grin stretched across his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added.

“You didn’t scare me,” you muttered, eyeing him as he casually took the seat beside you, uninvited. “You pissed me off.”

At that, he laughed, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

You glanced at him warily, waiting for him to explain himself. He must have caught on because he exhaled, his voice turning more relaxed. “I just… I’m traveling alone for the first time, and honestly, I’m kind of terrified,” he admitted. “Then I saw you with your boyfriend earlier, and I thought—maybe I could say something instead of sitting there freaking out by myself.”

At least he was self-aware. And he wasn’t wrong—Jungkook was here before, but now he wasn’t. And that was the only thing on your mind. You shifted, glancing back toward the station.

“You waiting for him?” the boy asked, following your gaze. You hummed in response. “Where are you from?” he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation going.

“Busan,” you replied absentmindedly, scanning the crowd for Jungkook’s familiar figure.

“Daegu,” he said, a bit more cheerfully than necessary. “Kim Taehyung, by the way.”

You turned to him, taking in the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled. He had an easygoing energy, one that might have been comforting if your mind weren’t occupied by worry.

“Nice to meet you, Kim Taehyung,” you murmured, offering him a small nod before returning your attention to the entrance.

He kept talking, something about Jeju and photography, but you weren’t really listening. Your thoughts were clouded with worst-case scenarios, your stomach twisting at the thought of something happening to Jungkook.

You decided that time would pass quicker if you kept talking to the stranger, and surprisingly, it worked. Kim Taehyung was easy to talk to, his words flowing effortlessly, filling the space where your nerves once thrived. He told you about how he had always dreamed of traveling alone but never thought he’d actually go through with it.

And for a moment, just a brief one, you let yourself relax.

Then, ten minutes later, Jungkook appeared.

Relief flooded through you the second you spotted him. He looked perfectly fine—not a single bruise, not a scratch, nothing to suggest he had been in trouble. The tight knot of anxiety in your stomach loosened.

But maybe you had let your guard down too soon.

Because the moment Jungkook reached you, he didn’t slow his pace—he stormed straight to the bench and shoved Taehyung off it with enough force to make him stumble and fall on his butt.

Your mouth fell open in shock.

Taehyung blinked up at Jungkook, looking more surprised than offended. He didn’t even attempt to fight back.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t even looking at him anymore. His dark, heated gaze was on you as he cupped your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to inspect you like he was searching for any sign of distress.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice tight with concern. “Did he hurt you?”

Before you could even respond, Taehyung scrambled to his feet, hands raised in defense. “Whoa, hold on, I—”

Jungkook barely spared him a glance before raising a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. Taehyung clamped his mouth shut immediately.

Damn. That was hot.

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to giggle at the absurdity of it all. You knew Jungkook well enough by now to recognize his jealousy, but seeing Taehyung actually listen to him without a fight? That was just too funny.

At the sound of your laughter, Jungkook’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly, though he kept side-eyeing Taehyung like he still didn’t trust him.

Finally, he sat down next to you, claiming the spot without hesitation, effectively blocking Taehyung from getting too close again.

You turned to him, amused but still curious. “Where were you?”

Taehyung, still standing awkwardly beside the bench, let out a sigh. “Yeah, where were you?”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Taehyung held up his hands again, taking a step back. “Got it. Not my business. Carry on.”

You chuckled, nudging Jungkook’s knee with yours. “Come on, what took you so long?”

Jungkook hesitated, his lips pressing into a firm line before he finally sighed. “I had to take care of something.”

Vague, as always. But judging by the way his fingers drummed against his thigh, you knew it wasn’t something he was ready to talk about yet.

That was okay. You had all the time in the world now.

Even if Jungkook still looked like he was two seconds away from shoving Taehyung into the ocean.

Taehyung scoffed, muttering something under his breath that Jungkook, of course, managed to catch.

“Mysterious boy,” he mused, barely suppressing a smirk.

Jungkook immediately turned his full attention to him, his body shifting so much that you were now left facing his back. You leaned slightly to the side, catching a glimpse of Taehyung, who was now standing a little straighter, as if preparing himself for whatever was coming next.

“Seriously, who the fuck even are you?” Jungkook asked, his voice dropping a little deeper than usual, the way it always did when he felt the need to assert dominance.

Taehyung, completely unfazed, tilted his head and replied, “Kim Taehyung. Twenty-two years old. Probably older than you, kid.” His voice, naturally deep, somehow sounded even richer now that he was deliberately trying to one-up Jungkook.

Jungkook puffed out his chest slightly, and you saw the exact moment realization hit him—Taehyung was older. But did that stop him from furrowing his brows and squaring his shoulders? Absolutely not.

Men and their pride. It was something else.

And yet, this time, instead of pissing you off, it just amused you.

What followed was an increasingly ridiculous exchange of skills and achievements, each trying to outdo the other. Jungkook boasted about knowing how to ride a bike, to which Taehyung scoffed and admitted he didn’t, but then immediately countered by bragging about how he could drive better—something you knew wasn’t true, considering Jungkook had just learned how to drive today.

They went back and forth like this for several minutes, listing anything and everything they thought made them superior.

Until, finally, you spotted the ferry in the distance.

“Come on, boys,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you slapped Jungkook’s thigh before standing up. You reached out, offering your hand to him.

Jungkook took it, standing up with ease, but not before shooting one last victorious look at Taehyung.

And then, just as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, he smirked and said, “Oh, and I have a girl. You don’t.”

Taehyung groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

“Seriously? That’s low, man.”

Jungkook just chuckled, leading you toward the entrance of the ferry, Taehyung following close to you.

Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he muttered, “Seriously, don’t tell me he’s going to Jeju too?” His eyes flicked behind you, locking onto Taehyung, who was struggling miserably with his two oversized suitcases.

You nodded, suppressing a laugh as you turned back to glance at Taehyung just in time to see him wave enthusiastically at the two of you—only to realize too late that in doing so, he had let go of his luggage. One of the bags tumbled to the ground, nearly knocking over a poor elderly man walking past.

“He’s funny,” you remarked as you stepped inside the ferry, shaking your head.

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m definitely funnier,” he argued, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

You grinned, pressing a quick peck to his cheek before taking your seat by the window. The view outside was already breathtaking, and you couldn’t wait to watch the waves as you traveled.

Jungkook placed your bags in the overhead compartment before plopping down beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours.

Meanwhile, Taehyung stood near the aisle, glancing between his ticket and the numbered seats, trying to find his assigned spot. The second he realized where it was, his boxy grin reappeared.

“Oh hey, man,” he greeted Jungkook with a casual nod as he lifted his luggage into the compartment.

Jungkook, however, let out a deep, exhausted groan. “You must be fucking kidding me.”

Taehyung just chuckled, settling into the seat beside him.

Yeah. This was going to be a long, long trip.

Turns out, you were the one growing jealous.

Fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of endless talking, laughing, and debates about the most random things imaginable. You didn’t think there was a single moment when they stopped.

You had tried—really tried—to get Jungkook’s attention. A glance, a squeeze of his hand, even sighing dramatically in hopes he’d notice. But no. He was completely engrossed in whatever his apparently new best friend was saying.

By the time the ferry docked, your legs were sore from sitting too long, and your ears felt like they were bleeding from listening to their non-stop chatter. You stretched, relieved to finally be standing, but still a little annoyed as you glanced at Jungkook, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

Instead, he turned to you with that stupid bunny smile, eyes shining. “Fuck, he was so cool!” he gushed, squeezing your hand as if he hadn’t just ignored you for the entire trip.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart softened at his excitement. He looked so happy. And honestly? You were glad. Jungkook had never really had close friends—at least, not ones who stuck around. He had always been wary of other men, always kept his distance, but here he was, grinning like a kid who just made his first friend at school.

Before you parted ways, Taehyung promised he’d see you both again, and Jungkook was practically bouncing with excitement.

And just like that, your irritation faded. Your legs still ached, but watching Jungkook so happy made it all worth it.

It was a great start.

But now, you needed to find somewhere to stay. Yet, it seemed Jungkook had other plans, as he led you toward the beach, ignoring your complaints about how exhausted you were and how badly you just wanted to sleep. Your feet ached from the long journey, but instead of stopping for a rest, he scooped you up onto his back without even asking.

“Seriously, Kook, how can you always be so full of energy?” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. His steady pace made you relax despite your protests, and as the sun began to dip low on the horizon, your eyelids grew heavy.

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” he said, his voice full of excitement, as if he couldn’t contain it.

You leaned into him, feeling his warmth, already too tired to fight. Eventually, he stopped, and you were gently set down on your feet. The soft sand beneath your toes made you want to just sink into it, the warmth of the earth soothing your exhausted muscles.

Jungkook stepped back slightly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his eyes bright as he took in the scene. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

It was beautiful. The sunset painted the sky with brilliant oranges and pinks, reflecting on the calm water. “I already love it here. I can’t wait to—Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing?” your words cut off when you saw him. Jungkook, on one knee.

Jungkook takes something out of his pocket, and for a moment, your heart sinks. You feared it was something that would force you to confront a commitment you weren’t ready for. But as he pulls out a box wrapped in the most elaborate gift paper you’ve ever seen, you feel a sudden wave of relief. It’s not what you feared. Not a ring, not anything to do with a life-changing decision.

It’s just a gift.

“I know it’s probably not what you were expecting—” Jungkook starts, his voice almost sheepish.

You quickly reassure him, “I’m not mad, I’m glad actually,” before he can finish, his words hanging in the air. He laughs, relieved that you understand, and you can see the weight lift off his shoulders.

“Now I know I’d look like an idiot if you were dumping my ass right there,” he says, feigning a pout. His voice softens, but there’s a nervousness there, the kind that reminds you that, despite his bravado, he’s just as vulnerable as anyone else.

Before the moment can slip away with the fading sun, Jungkook hands you the gift. His grin widens as he watches you take it. “That’s what took me so long at the station,” he explains, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “But now I’m glad I took my time because you met Taehyung and so I—”

“Are you seriously talking about Taehyung right now?” you cut him off with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, which makes him chuckle even more.

You take the gift from his hands, tearing away the decorative paper nonchalantly, wondering what could be so important that it kept him occupied for so long. Jungkook stands up beside you, his gaze fixed on your every move, clearly eager for your reaction. The grin on his face is wide, like a kid waiting for approval.

Your heart was racing, skipping a beat with every breath you took. Your mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions crashing over you, and your stomach tightened from the weight of the love you felt in this very moment.

In your hands was a Walkman.

Not the old blue one you used to have, but a brand new, bright yellow one. It was simple, unassuming, yet it held so much significance. You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as memories flooded your mind. This small object had been the catalyst, the bridge that had led you to him.

The very thing that once cut through the chaos of your home, drowning out the anger and the shouts, had now brought you closer to someone you never imagined you’d find. Jungkook. He had been the one to walk into your life, to make everything feel real in ways it never had before.

It felt impossible to hold back the tears now. You never could have known that something as simple as a Walkman could tie your story together in such an unexpected way.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the wave of emotions choking you. You reached for him, pulling him close, resting your head against his chest as the sobs racked your body.

Jungkook didn’t say anything at first. He just held you, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, offering all the comfort he could. You clung to him, feeling like you were finally where you belonged, and all the pain, the confusion, and the chaos that had once been your life seemed so distant now.

He smiled softly as he pulled out a second Walkman, this one in a bright, playful pink. “This one’s mine,” he said, his voice filled with pride. You couldn’t help but laugh at the bold choice of color, completely charmed by how unapologetic he was about it.

“Yeah, I know it’s pink,” he said, shrugging with a mischievous grin. “But I was like, fuck off with that masculinity nonsense.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at how truly authentic he was, and you pulled him tighter into your embrace, not caring about anything else in that moment. He was everything you had ever hoped for, and yet, he was so much more than that.

He was the very opposite of the men you had expected to encounter in your life—so different from anything you had ever known. He defied the norms, challenged what was supposed to be “normal,” and it was that exact freedom that made him so undeniably perfect for you.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you held him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours.

“I love you more,” he replied instantly, his lips brushing your hair as he kissed the top of your head gently. In that simple moment, the world outside didn’t matter.

It was just the two of you, a Walkman, and a love that felt like it could stretch across eternity.

The familiar hum of your white Daewoo Arcadia filled the quiet streets as you maneuvered smoothly through the neighborhood. It had been three months since you bought it—your first real purchase with your own hard-earned money. A small but powerful symbol of everything you had built.

Owning a record shop had started as a dream, a simple idea fueled by your love for music. But somehow, it had turned into something bigger. Walkmans were getting bigger, and suddenly, your little shop—specializing in cassette players and tapes—had become the talk of the city.

It still felt surreal.

You could remember the exact moment you found out that the shop space was for sale. The way your heart had pounded at the thought of actually owning something, building something. You had hesitated, scared of taking a risk, but Jungkook never once wavered.

Without a second thought, he had used nearly all the money your mother had given him to buy the place for you. He brushed off your worries when you told him it was too risky, too uncertain. Instead, he had looked at you with those unwavering eyes and simply said, “I trust you. I know you’ll make this into something great. Soon, you’ll be richer than you ever imagined.”

And he had been right.

You had done it—on your own. But never alone.

Jungkook had been there every step of the way. Supporting you, pushing you forward, believing in you even when you doubted yourself.

You pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine before stepping out. Your heels clicked softly against the pavement as you made your way to the front door.

Home.

When you arrived in Jeju three years ago, you had been scared as hell. You had no real plan, no certainty—just the weight of a fresh start pressing down on your shoulders. The first few months were spent hopping from one cheap motel to another, stretching every bit of money you had. And then you found the shop.

Back then, you barely believed in it. You hadn’t seen what Jungkook saw.

He had poured everything into it, every last bit of money, every ounce of faith. It left you both with almost nothing—certainly not enough to buy the house you had dreamed of. You had been frustrated, worried, but Jungkook never wavered. He promised it would all work out.

And a year later, it did.

By then, the shop was thriving, and you had saved enough to buy a home—not the biggest or the grandest, but something just right. Small enough to feel warm, cozy, like a real home rather than just a house. It was tucked away in a quiet corner of the island, where the sound of the waves could still reach you on windy nights.

Jungkook worked relentlessly to make it perfect. He never complained, never hesitated—just threw himself into every little task, every piece of furniture, every coat of paint. He listened to your every wish, making sure each room felt like you.

And in the end, it was everything you had both dreamed of. Maybe even more.

The loud chatter reached your ears before you even stepped inside.

“You don’t know shit, how can you give me advice on that—” You immediately recognized Jungkook’s voice, his tone laced with irritation.

“I’m older, so technically, I have more experience, and I’m telling you, you should do it like I—”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stepped into the kitchen, only to find Jungkook and Taehyung glaring at each other, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. It was always something with those two.

Taehyung had been a constant presence in your lives ever since your paths crossed again a year later. What was supposed to be a short trip for him turned into something permanent when he fell in love with Jeju’s quiet charm. He ended up settling in a house just a few blocks from yours, and from that point on, it was like he had always been there—third-wheeling your dates, crashing at your place just because, and most of all, getting under Jungkook’s skin for fun.

As soon as Jungkook spotted you, whatever argument he had been having was forgotten. He practically ran to you, wrapping you up in his arms and peppering your lips with quick, eager kisses, as if he hadn’t just seen you this morning.

Taehyung groaned in disgust, rolling his eyes as he reached for an apple on the counter. “God, get a room.”

Jungkook ignored him, tilting your chin up to press one last kiss against your mouth before flashing his signature smirk. “Missed you.”

You laughed, patting his chest. “I was gone for an hour.”

“An hour too long,” he shot back without hesitation.

Taehyung scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re so whipped, it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook turned to glare at him. “Says the guy who’s single and giving me relationship advice?”

And just like that, the argument picked up where it left off.

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the counter as you listened to them bicker, warmth blooming in your chest. This—this chaotic, ridiculous, love-filled life—you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You settled into the seat beside Taehyung, chewing on your apple as you tried to piece together their conversation. Your eyes flickered between the two boys, one sulking, the other smirking.

“Relationship advice? For what?” you asked, brows furrowing slightly.

Your relationship with Jungkook had been going perfectly, or so you thought. You never had any major fights, and despite the bickering he did with Taehyung, he always made time for you. But now, knowing he had asked for advice, you couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. Maybe you had been too caught up with the shop, too distracted to notice if something was bothering him.

Taehyung sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Well, your boyfriend here—” he jabbed a finger into Jungkook’s chest, earning a glare, “—was telling me he wanted to take you out to dinner. Boring. So I suggested something better, something actually romantic—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Jungkook slapped a hand over Taehyung’s mouth so fast the older boy choked on his words. “Shut the fuck up, Taehyung,” Jungkook hissed, his voice low in warning.

You raised a brow at your boyfriend, amused by his reaction. “Kook,” you teased, holding up your apple like it was a gavel. “Don’t threaten our guest.”

“Guest?” Jungkook scoffed, finally releasing Taehyung, who coughed dramatically like he had barely survived. “More like an impostor. He’s always here.”

“Because I live nearby,” Taehyung retorted, rubbing his throat as he glared at Jungkook. “It’s not my fault you treat me like your rival—”

“Because you are my rival,” Jungkook shot back, his expression dead serious.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. No matter how much Jungkook complained about Taehyung or how dramatic their so-called rivalry was, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

As Taehyung made his way to the door, he suddenly stopped, shaking his Samsung SH-770, the sleek, silver flip phone glinting under the kitchen light. The small external screen blinked with notifications as he wagged it in Jungkook’s direction with a smug grin.

“Don’t forget to check your phone, dumbass. You always ignore my texts, stupid Kook,” he teased, snapping the phone shut before walking out the door and heading to his house.

Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms like a child. “I hate that thing. Since when can people reach me whenever they want? Especially when I’m at home—with you.”

He punctuated his words by pressing his lips to your neck, arms winding around your waist as he pulled you closer. His warmth, his scent—the familiarity of him—sent a shiver down your spine.

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “It’s called convenience, Kook. Welcome to the future.”

“Inconvenience,” he corrected, mumbling against your skin before placing another kiss just below your ear. “Now, can we forget about Taehyung and his dumb phone? I finally have you all to myself.”

He was quick to bring you to your bedroom, his hands gentle yet eager as he undressed you with a tenderness that never failed to make your heart race. His lips followed the path of his fingers, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your skin like he was discovering you for the first time all over again.

It always felt like this with him—like love was something tangible, something you could feel in the way he touched you, in the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. Every kiss, every caress was filled with devotion, with care, with an unspoken promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither were you.

Apparently, Jungkook had actually listened to Taehyung’s advice because he didn’t take you to dinner that night. Instead, he chose something far more meaningful.

He pulled out his bike—a new one he’d bought around the same time you got your car. He had refused to learn how to drive a car, claiming he hated it and that he looked cooler on a bike. You didn’t argue with him, not when he was pouting at you like that, his big brown eyes practically begging you to agree. And honestly, how could you resist him?

Now, as you sat behind him, arms wrapped securely around his waist, the wind rushing past your face, you couldn’t help but smile. It always felt like this when you rode with him—like freedom, like nostalgia, like love. It reminded you of that very first night together, the one that changed everything.

And just like that night, he was taking you up the mountain again.

He turns off the engine, and you hop off the bike, your excitement building as you run towards the edge of the mountain, drawn by the breathtaking view. The waves crashed against the rocks below, their rhythmic sound filling the air. You close your eyes for a moment, just taking it all in, feeling the cool breeze on your skin.

Before you can fully lose yourself in the moment, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing into your back as his face gently rests on your shoulder. You can feel his warmth, his steady breath against your neck, and it instantly makes you feel safe, loved, at peace.

“How was work?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm, like he genuinely wanted to know. He knew you were doing well, of course. But there was something about hearing it from you, hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about, that made him proud. He loved how independent you were, how hard you worked for everything you had.

“People kept coming in. I almost didn’t have time to breathe,” you admit with a small laugh, your hands moving to cover his where they rest on your stomach. Despite the chaos of running a busy store—stocking shelves, cleaning up between customers, offering advice to those who asked—you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You loved every second of it, especially because it was yours.

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, his lips lingering for a moment as you smile. “It’s great. I’m happy for you,” he says, his voice sincere and filled with pride.

You turn in his embrace to face him. “And you?” you ask, your brow furrowing slightly. You know his job had never been easy, and it’s something he’s struggled with.

It’s been a long road for Jungkook—always searching for something that felt right. He was good at everything he did, but he was never able to stick with anything for long. He got bored of the routine, tired of the monotony. He wanted something meaningful, something that made a difference.

When he told you he wanted to become a police officer, you couldn’t help but worry. His previous jobs had been risky, dangerous even, and the thought of him in a high-stakes profession like that made your heart ache.

But then he explained why. He wanted to help people, to protect the innocent, and to hold those who did wrong accountable. That’s when you realized that he was made for this. Yes, the job was dangerous, and it came with its own set of challenges, but he had such a strong sense of justice. He wanted to make things right in a world that often felt broken.

You remembered how he’d told you, the way his eyes had sparked when he spoke about it: “I want to teach the bad guys a lesson, but in the right way. I want to help, not hurt.” And you knew, without a doubt, that he was born for this.

You may have worried about his safety, but you understood his passion. His past mistakes didn’t define him. He was doing this now because he wanted to be the kind of man who helped fix things, not break them. And in your heart, you knew he’d make a difference in the world.

And when he came home, tired but fulfilled, he would always tell you about the cases. He’d recount the moments when he took charge, when he stood strong in the face of fear and danger. His voice would grow more confident, proud of what he had accomplished. And you couldn’t help but beam at him, your heart swelling in admiration for the man he had become.

It always tore at him when he was called to respond to abuse cases. Even as society slowly started changing, with women slowly carving their place, there were still men who thought they could get away with things that were unforgivable. Every time the call came in, he was the first to volunteer, ready to confront the situation head-on. He hated the idea of anyone suffering and every time he slapped the handcuffs on a man who thought he could get away with abuse, Jungkook felt a small, vindicating victory.

“One day,” he’d often say, a slight grimace forming on his face as he spoke of the cases, “I hope I never have to deal with something like this again.” But until then, he was determined to do his job, to right as many wrongs as he could, and you knew he found solace in that.

Because you knew what this meant to him. It wasn’t just about his job. It wasn’t just about righting wrongs. It was personal for him. Every case felt like he was saving someone, but to him, it always felt like he was saving his mother again, and again. Every time he stood up against the darkness, he was fighting back the ghosts of his past, protecting others from the same pain that had haunted him and his family. It was as if every victim he helped gave him a small piece of peace, a bit of redemption for everything he couldn’t do before.

You would hold him close after those days, your fingers threading through his hair as he rested his head on your chest. You’d whisper words of encouragement, telling him how proud you were of the man he had become. How proud you were that he had turned his pain into something good, something meaningful.

“Seokjin is such a pain, but I guess it’s fine,” Jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes at the mention of his superior. He talks about Seokjin a lot, mostly complaining about him. Jungkook has always had an issue with authority figures, but deep down, he respects the older man, even if he doesn’t always show it. It’s a complicated relationship, filled with tension, but there’s also a hint of admiration that Jungkook never quite admits out loud.

He pauses for a moment, his usual playful demeanor shifting into something more uncertain. His voice lowers, hesitant, and for the first time, he bites the inside of his cheek, clearly wrestling with the words he wants to say. “Hey,” he begins, voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching yours for any sign of what you might be thinking. “What would you do… if I asked you to marry me right now?”

Your heart skips a beat, the question catching you completely off guard. Your eyes widen as you try to process his words, your mind racing to catch up with the sudden shift in the air. It’s so unexpected, so messy in its delivery, that you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook immediately curses under his breath, clearly regretting the rush of words that slipped out before he could think. His face flushes with embarrassment, realizing that he’s completely botched this moment he’s been planning for so long.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about this for years, and I still mess it up.” He looks at you, the self-doubt written all over his face. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, I asked fucking Taehyung for advice, and now I look like an idiot.” He shakes his head, a mix of frustration and anxiety swirling in his chest. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away after seeing how badly I messed this up.”

You can see the vulnerability in him, the raw honesty behind his words. It’s unlike any side of him you’ve seen before, and it makes your heart ache a little. He wants this so badly, but his fear of failing, of looking foolish, is overwhelming him.

“Fuck, that was terrible,” he groans, running his hand down his face.

Before you can say anything, you look at him, still trying to process the question, and in a quiet, almost timid voice, you ask, “Jungkook, are you asking me to marry you, right now?”

He scoffs, clearly embarrassed, and rolls his eyes at himself. “What? No, of course not,” he says, laughing awkwardly, trying to deflect the awkwardness that’s settled between the two of you. “Me? A husband? Nah, that’s not me.” He forces a laugh, but it’s hollow, like he’s trying to convince both you and himself that he’s not serious. He pulls at the box of the ring in his pocket, fidgeting with it as if it could somehow distract him from the overwhelming nervousness building inside him.

“I would say yes,” you whisper, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. It’s true. You would. You would say yes to him, right now, in this messy, imperfect moment. No questions asked.

Jungkook’s words stop mid-sentence as he processes what you’ve just said. He freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stares at you, trying to figure out if he really heard you correctly. His lips part, but no sound comes out at first. “What?” he breathes, barely able to believe what you just confessed.

You nod slowly, a soft smile curling on your lips. “I would say yes,” you repeat, your voice more confident this time, looking into his eyes with sincerity.

Jungkook’s face softens, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he looks completely overwhelmed, as if he can’t quite grasp the enormity of what you’ve just told him. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches for you, pulling you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in your hair, his breath shaky. “You’re serious?” he whispers into your ear, his voice raw with emotion.

You nod again, your heart full, a sense of peace settling over you. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook laughs softly, a mixture of disbelief and relief, holding you closer as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. “I can’t believe this,” he murmurs, still in awe of how things turned out, how you felt the same way he did. “I’ve been so scared of messing it up, but you…” His voice trails off as he kisses the top of your head. “You would say yes?”

“I would say yes,” you repeat, and in that moment, everything feels right.

Jungkook kisses you again, his lips soft and warm, but you gently pull back, furrowing your brows. “I don’t want to sound like that kind of girl, but—” you start, laughing awkwardly as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t have the… ring?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he gasps, cursing himself under his breath. “Shit,” he mutters, quickly fumbling around in his pocket. He pulls out the small box, face turning red with embarrassment for forgetting the one thing Taehyung had practically drilled into him not to forget. He hands you the box with a nonchalant shrug, but you can tell it’s not as casual as he’s pretending. His heart is doing somersaults, even if he’s trying to play it cool.

You hold the box in your hand, teasing him. “Aren’t you supposed to, like, get down on one knee, open it for me, and… you know?” you say with a playful grin. You’re being a bit mischievous, but he’s so cute when he’s flustered like this, and you can’t resist.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and before you can even blink, he snatches the box back from your hand. “Shit, of course I would!” he exclaims. In his rush to do things right, he drops down onto one knee so quickly that he ends up hurting his knee in the process. “Ah, fuck!” he winces, pulling his knee up with a grimace, inspecting it like it’s some kind of emergency. But despite the slight pain, he straightens up and finally settles into position, looking at you with a determined, slightly goofy expression on his face.

You can’t help but giggle, but you see how much this means to him. He’s nervous but so sincere. His eyes lock with yours as he takes a deep breath, preparing to speak the words that have been tumbling around in his mind for so long. The words Taehyung helped him practice now flow from his lips with surprising calmness.

“I want to give you this ring, not to make you mine, because you already are,” he begins, his voice steady but full of emotion. “But because I want to make you mine forever.” He pauses for a moment, the words hanging in the air, before adding, “And also because I love you so, so much, that I want you to remember it when you have a long day at work… just by looking at that… thing.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to downplay it, but you can see how proud he is of himself. This was it—the moment he had been preparing for, and it was going better than he could have hoped.

Tears spring to your eyes as you listen to his words, your heart swelling with love. The smile on your face is wide and bright, but the tears start to fall freely, rolling down your cheeks, not out of sadness but pure happiness. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook grins, his heart soaring when he sees your reaction. His hands shake slightly as he holds out the ring, waiting for you to say something. You can see the joy in his eyes, the hope that this moment will seal your future together.

You wipe your tears, taking a shaky breath. “Yes,” you whisper, voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s face lights up, his eyes wide with disbelief and joy. He’s finally done it, and everything feels perfect. You’re perfect. His heart beats faster as he slides the ring onto your finger, and for a moment, time stands still. In that moment, it’s just you two—your love, your promise, your forever.

You walked through the door that night, still floating on air from the day’s excitement, your heart light and full. As you changed into your pajamas, you caught sight of Jungkook sitting on the bed, his brows furrowed in concentration. His thumb hovered over the phone’s keyboard, his index finger tapping slowly as he tried to figure out how to text, clearly struggling with the unfamiliar technology. He cursed softly under his breath when things didn’t go as planned, a cute sign of his frustration.

You couldn’t help but smile, watching him. He was so good at everything, but new technology—especially when it came to phones—seemed to leave him stumped. You laughed softly before throwing yourself onto the bed beside him, propping yourself up on your elbows as you observed the scene.

“Who are you texting?” you asked, a curious smile tugging at your lips.

“Kim Taehyung,” he replied, a small smile finally breaking through as he seemed to succeed in sending the message. He eagerly turned the phone toward you, showing off the text he’d just written.

she said yes. jeon jungkook.

The sheer simplicity of the message made you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. Ten minutes to type five words? He looked so proud of himself, but the way he’d typed out each letter so carefully and slowly made it all the more adorable.

“You know you don’t have to put your name at the end, right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, still chuckling.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh, slumping his shoulders as he tossed the phone onto the bedside table. “I don’t know how this shit works,” he muttered. But then, in his usual way, his pout quickly turned into a grin, and before you knew it, he pulled you by the waist and sat you down on his lap, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of possessiveness and warmth.

You’re still giggling as you sit down on his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, his cheeks flushed from the slight embarrassment. Jungkook’s not used to this whole texting thing, and it’s adorable how he struggles with it, especially for something as important as texting Taehyung.

He gives you a playful pout as you settle onto him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” he says, trying to suppress his own smile, but it’s hard to be mad at you when you’re so close.

You nod, still chuckling, but it’s in the most loving way possible. “I’m not laughing at you, Kook, I’m laughing because you’re so cute. I mean, it took you ten minutes to send five words. You could’ve just called him, you know?”

“I was trying to make it official,” he huffs, his arms tightening around you. “I wanted it to sound proper.”

You can’t help but shake your head, your fingers brushing through his hair as you settle more comfortably against him. “You’re adorable. Honestly, he’s gonna laugh when he sees your text.”

Jungkook groans and leans his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep up, okay? Everything is so much harder now. At least I used to just talk face to face.”

You smile softly, touching his chin to tilt his face up so you can look into his eyes. “I get it. But don’t worry about it. You’re already doing so much. I love you just the way you are.”

His eyes soften, his hand brushing against your back as he pulls you in closer. “I love you too,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “More than anything.”

You look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat. You’ve always known he had a big heart, but moments like this, when he’s so vulnerable, make you realize just how lucky you are.

“Well, you don’t need to stress about tech stuff. You’ve got me,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll teach you, promise.”

Jungkook grins at that, the tension leaving his face as he leans in to kiss you back, slow and deep. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” he whispers against your lips, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck, holding you to him.

As the night settled in, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. You knew that the world was changing around you—new technologies, new challenges, new adventures—but there was one thing you were sure of: no matter where life took you, you wanted to be with Jungkook through it all.

Your hands were trembling slightly, damp with nervous sweat. Your heart was racing, each beat louder than the last, and you found yourself fiddling with the bouquet in your hands, twisting the stems like a lifeline. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to breathe, but the anxiety just wouldn’t let up. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Taehyung glancing at you from the driver’s seat, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

“Please don’t puke in my car,” he said, his voice laced with genuine worry as he shot you a quick glance.

You chuckled, but the sound was breathless. “Taehyung, I’m scared as fuck,” you admitted, shifting awkwardly in the car. You tried to adjust your dress, but it was hard, the fabric so wide and heavy, making movement feel impossible.

You couldn’t help but wish Jungkook was here. You missed the calm of his touch, his voice reassuring you that everything would be okay. He always knew how to steady you when your nerves got the best of you. Taehyung was great, but he wasn’t your fiancé.

“I’d be scared too,” Taehyung said, his voice lightening the mood. He shot you a teasing grin as his eyes returned to the road. “It’s not every day we get to see Jungkook dressed up in a fucking suit.”

The way he said it, the ridiculousness of the situation, made you finally break out into a laugh, albeit a shaky one. Taehyung really had a way of easing the tension, making the moment feel a little less overwhelming. You almost felt a little lighter, despite the nerves still bubbling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you said, finally letting out a deep breath. “I’m definitely gonna need a drink after this.”

Taehyung chuckled. “Me too, but don’t go fainting before you get to see him in that suit. You’ve gotta give him a chance to impress you.”

“What if he hates the dress?” you asked, your voice trembling with doubt as you stared at your reflection in the side mirror. You had been so sure of it when you bought it, but now, with everything feeling so real, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty. You clutched the bouquet tighter, feeling the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders.

Taehyung, ever the reassuring presence, glanced at you with a comforting smile. He had been there through the entire process, giving his opinion and offering to help you choose the perfect dress. And honestly, you couldn’t imagine having anyone else by your side. Even if it did mean receiving some playful pouts from Jungkook lately, complaining that it seemed like you were always with Taehyung.

“You could show up dressed as a clown, and he would still marry you,” Taehyung had said, his voice light and teasing, and somehow it managed to stick with you, even now.

But the worry still crept up, lingering in the pit of your stomach. Today was the day. The day you would become his forever. And as you sat in the car, the familiar roads leading to the church where your life would change, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety seeping in.

Taehyung’s lighthearted chatter continued, but you could barely hear it over the buzz of your nerves. Everything felt so surreal. Was this really happening?

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was in his own battle with the same anxiety, trying to fight the knot in his stomach. The nerves were almost unbearable, making him feel like he could barely breathe. He was pacing around the church, waiting for the moment to arrive.

His hands shook slightly as he straightened his suit, his own nerves threatening to overwhelm him. It didn’t matter that he had imagined this moment a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. This was real, and it was happening now. And the only thing that mattered was you walking through those doors.

“You got this, Kook,” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his nerves as he wiped his palms against his pants.

The drive felt endless, the air thick with the lingering heat of the summer sun, but the cool breeze that entered through the open window did wonders to calm your nerves. You let it whip your hair around, not caring that your carefully styled locks would likely be a mess by the time you arrived at the church.

There’s something liberating about summer. The way the wind moves through the air, cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the heat that lingers long after the sun begins to set. It feels almost alive, slipping through your fingers, tangling in your hair—never quite staying, never quite gone.

Everything seems to slow down, as if the world itself is taking a breath, suspended in the thick, hazy air. Time stretches, moments linger, and even people seem different—softer, freer, as if summer loosens something inside them. Maybe it’s the heat, or the endless nights, or the way the season blurs reality just enough to make anything feel possible.

The simple relief of knowing someone was waiting for you.

That Jungkook was waiting for you.

authors note: aaandd done! pls dont a hesitate to tell me what you think—id love to hear your thoughts! maybe you even imagined a different ending? tbh i had a hard time choosing between a bad ending or a happy one, but in the end… i just couldn’t bring myself to separate them ahaha

thanks a lot for being part of their journey and i you liked it ♡ byyyyeeee

[its-avalon-08]

Can you write one where lando has a crash and you are his best friend. lando isnt responsing over radio and you are freaking out and about to cry. the first thing he says is "tell y/n im ok" and you get together at the end of it. thanks and love ur works !

ruin our friendship (ln4)

y/n chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety gnawing at her stomach. the race had been chaotic from the start, a downpour creating a treacherous track. but nothing had prepared her for the radio silence that followed lando's crash. every tense second echoed in the sterile white of the garage.

"lando, lando, come in," the radio engineer's voice crackled with barely concealed panic. y/n squeezed her eyes shut, picturing lando's trademark grin, the one that never failed to calm her down. images of fiery crashes from past seasons flashed in her mind, each one a shard of ice in her already churning gut.

then, a voice, weak but undeniably lando. a strangled cough broke through the static, followed by, "tell y/n... i'm okay." relief washed over her in a tidal wave, threatening to spill over into tears. tears of gratitude, of terror temporarily subdued. she grabbed the radio, her voice thick with emotion, "lando, you scared the living daylights out of me!"

the crackle of a weak chuckle came through. "just a little spin, nothing serious." a beat of silence, then, "i'm okay guys. all ok. tell y/n to get back to the flat."

the flat. their flat. a shared haven in the whirlwind of the f1 circus. relief morphed into something more, a fluttering in her chest she couldn't quite define.

two days later, y/n helped lando, stiff and sore, out of the car after his hospital release. his arm was in a sling, but his smile, though weak, was genuine.

"careful there, clumsy," he teased, a familiar spark in his eyes. y/n rolled her eyes, guiding him towards the elevator.

inside their flat, the familiar smell of home greeted them. as she helped him settle onto the couch, a comfortable silence settled. then, lando cleared his throat.

"y/n," he began, his voice serious. y/n met his gaze, a million unspoken things swirling in her own blue eyes. "this whole crash… it made me realize something."

he paused, his hand reaching for hers, sending a jolt through her. "i can't… i won't lose you, not like this. not when…" his voice trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck.

y/n's heart hammered against her ribs. "when what, lando?"

"when i've been a complete idiot for the past five years," he blurted out. "i… i like you, y/n. more than just a friend. i have for ages."

the words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings. y/n's breath hitched. "you… you like me?" she whispered, a smile blooming on her face.

"like you? y/n, i'm in love with you," lando confessed, his gaze intense. "always have been, scared to ruin our friendship."

y/n's smile widened, the last remnants of fear dissipating. "scared? lando, i…" she leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear, "i thought i was the only one going crazy."

a laugh, genuine and relieved, escaped lando's lips. he pulled her close, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. "so, what does that mean?" he asked, his voice a husky rumble against her cheek.

"it means," y/n whispered, her voice laced with newfound confidence, "that you're a bigger idiot than i thought, for waiting so long."

the kiss that followed was filled with the unspoken words of years, a promise of a future brighter than any podium finish. they weren't just teammates anymore, they were something more, something exhilarating and terrifying – a love story finally taking the checkered flag.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[buggsonfire]

cherry wine pt.1 | sylus & zayne

summary: in a world where sylus isn't a criminal, but an important figure nonetheless, you find yourself at a local gala for akso hospital in celebration of zayne. When suddenly an old lover appears.

a/n: mostly canon, just sylus isnt a known criminal. pining, yearning, slow burn, mild angst and jealously. my work is not up for reposting to other sites, or translated.

word count: 1.2k

the gala is in full swing. a local charity event for akso hospital, and you stood next to zayne proudly as people congratulated him on his most recent success in his research. you were only there with him as a plus one. Being friends for years, he had asked you to attend with him so he didn't have to go alone, to which you happily obliged. getting to wear that one ‘never have an occasion for’ dress finally. 

music echoed throughout the dance hall. with drinks clinking together in celebration. voices seemed to ascend to the ceiling, what seemed to be a few hundred hushed conversations contributing to the larger sound. events like this made the world stand still. just for a moment, it felt like being a part of something bigger. important. that your voice, and opinion mattered. as if your world outside of this room wasn’t shattered, that you could play normalcy with a slotted smile. 

however, that dream was quickly crushed as you noticed a familiar flop of white hair entering the building. your eyes watch carefully as he interacts with the guest check in. this would have been the last place you would’ve ever guessed to see him at. he was so bold to show his face in linkon, let alone at a gala of all things. but then, you notice someone hanging on his arm. of course. she was gorgeous. lengthy brown hair spread across her shoulders, and was dressed in a ruby satin gown. your heart strings tightening with the familiarity of the dress. one similar to another stuffed in the back of your closet. 

you peel your eyes away as your throat tightens. why is he here? who is he with? am I really that replaceable? questions shift through your mind at a rapid fire place. your heart beat quickens in your chest, and it almost becomes hard to breathe. zayne notices this quickly. he pulls you into a side hug. squeezing your hand that he was holding while whispering reassurances into your ear. he was always attentive. knew exactly when you needed a little extra help calming your nerves. 

“let me introduce you to one of our top donors,” zayne murmurs into your ear. you nod in agreement, but soon regret your decision as you realize he was waving the devil himself over to you two. swallowing deeply as he approaches. 

“doctor Li, excellent work this session.” sylus says as he reaches his hand out to shake zayne’s, to which he takes. 

“thank you mr. qin, we couldn’t have done it with your generous donation,” zayne says with a tight lipped smile. if only he knew the history of the two of you. “may I introduce you to my plus one this evening?” 

you act as if you’ve never met this man in your life despite the protest in your heart. your kind, much kinder than he deserves. but then he introduces his own plus one. an A-lister from the hunters association. of course. it makes sense. she compliments on your dress, and you return the favor. ignoring the ruby irises that burn into the side of your cheek. your gown was a deep violet maroon with a sweetheart neckline that outlined your chest with perfect precision. just as quickly as your introduction began, your attention is pulled away as zayne is greeted by other colleagues. 

but those damn rubies never left your form all night. even as you stood side stage as zayne gave a speech after accepting his award. it was tiresome. you thought you had ridden the man of your thoughts after the incident but clearly you were wrong. 

zayne had finished his speech with a standing applause. you were among them when suddenly your wrist was grabbed, and your body lurched forward. taking a moment to ground your surroundings, you realize who was dragging you towards the entrance hall, sylus. you fight against his hold for a brief moment but give-in. you were merely curious about what this gentleman had planned. 

eventually, you were pulled into a tight space, and the door slammed shut with a click. it was a janitor's closet of all things. sylus’s height was already daunting enough, but in a tiny space such as this? it made you feel even more shrunken. he stalks forward, and as soon as your back becomes flushed with the wall, his hand finds home in the dip of your right hip. 

he’s gentle. more gentle than you’ve experienced him. if you could see it, there was a raging storm boarding the horizon of his pupils. his silence was deafening, defeating, challenging. like he was waiting for you to make the first move. but as time passed, or seemed to slow, he dipped his head low. nose’s brush, and your breath gets caught in your throat. his scent becomes dizzying. he connects your lips in a sweet kiss. as if he was testing the waters, and when you don't resist him? He presses harder. his left hand finds solace in your other hip. 

his kiss tastes like smoke, and a hint of dark cherry wine. his lips felt like home. your heart quickens in your chest as he becomes brave. slotting his hands behind your back to map out the curve of it, while simultaneously pulling you flush against him. a low groan spills from his lips at the contact. breaking you out of your trance state. placing a hand on his shoulder, you gently push him back to look at him. he’s dazed, and confused as he looks at you. 

“dont,” he husks, as he tries to pull you back in. but your force is enough to keep him grounded as you shake your head. 

“i need to get back.” you mutter as you try to pull yourself from his grip. 

“let me take you home,” he breathes, and your heart feels suffocating at his request. 

“no.” you stutter briefly. his grip tightens as he realizes his request would not be granted tonight. 

“dont do this.” his words are sharp as a knife as it twists in your gut. 

“i can't do this, not now,” words shaky, you finally pull from him. making a beeline towards the door. slipping past him enough to make him stumble as he tries to chase after you. 

quickly, you weave your way through the halls, trying to lose him when you finally reconnect with the crowd. somehow, zayne finds you instantly. he’s clearly worried but you reassure him that you're fine. grasping his hand, you offer to exit the gala as it has come to a close to which he happily agrees. 

as you're standing outside waiting for zayne’s car, you spot sylus again from across the street as he helps the hunter girl into a car. you lock eyes for a moment. a silent promise that what transpired just minutes before wasn't over. you nod towards him in agreement. secretly waiting for it. 

taglist: @comatosebunny09

[lyrakanefanatic]

I JUST REALIZED I HAVENT POSTED A GR RANT?? SO YEAHHH HERE ARE MY OPINIONS ON DIFFERENT GR CHARACTERS AND SHIPS

spoilers below!!

ROHAN

rohan literally ate SO BAD in this book i fear. u can really see his character development, ESPECIALLY in the end when he gives savannah his dice. and he was so funny too, and a notch less manipulative and narcissistic so ykw pretty good all around

9.5/10 (-0.5 for the fact that he said “are u done?” when savvy was talking about something sentimental like bitch are you done?)

SAVANNAH

you could REALLY get to understand savannahs hurt in this book. her grief process, her feelings of betrayal towards both her sister and her brother, and her loneliness literally made me want to cry at times because it was SO raw. like even though savannah starts to recognize shes been lied to by eve, she still wants to expose avery on live television because of all the other people she’d been lied to as well. like her brother, who lied as an extension of avery. and then at the end when she finally starts to let her sister back in… 10/10 i teared up

11/10

LYRA

lyra was… OMG so incredible in this book. i really dont understand people if they can read glorious rivals and STILL say that lyra was plain and boring. because this girl was EVERYTHINGGG she needed to be in the first book, and everything that grayson brought out of her. her emotions, her vulnerability, her trust was REALLY thriving in this book, and i loved it. i was lowkey really surprised when savannah won the game bc of the whole “our games have heart” thing, and lyra was the only one who was truly in touch with her emotions. but rohan really stepped it up u go king!! anywaysss yes her moral code was thriving in this book, girlie held something from grayson for an hour and immediately started beating herself up about it LMAO 😭😭 but yeah hers (and grayson’s) chapters were DEFINITELY my favourites throughout this book, and like 1/3 of the reason for that is because lyra was so damn funny in this book. like for no reason too. ACTUALLY IM GONNA COMPILE A BUNCH OF STUFF SHE SAID THAT WAS FUNNY BC YALL I WAS LITERALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD

10000000/10

BRADY

literal only good moment is when he whispered a clue in lyras ear. otherwise hes a piece of shit.

-82784824/10

GRAYSON:

im gonna be honest… grayson was just an extension of lyra and i LOVED that. bae was just saying how beautiful lyra is while peeping in on some hawthorne drama and i LOVE him for that. AND WHEN HE SAID THAT LYRA HAD NEVER LOOKED MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN WHEN SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT HER FAMILY??? omg i would marry him on the spot. i mean he DID keep something big from lyra for like the entire goddamn book up until chapter 69 WHICH LYRA ENDED UP FINDING OUT BY HERSELF BC THIS BITCH WAS JUST LYING TO HER FACE but other then that?? he cooked. his character development was INCREDIBLE, and the fact that he didnt allow himself to relapse (push himself beyond his limits) even after experiencing the heartbreak of his life (chapter 69-70. need i say more.) really just SHOWED his progress.

9/10 (-1 for the lying to lyra. like bitch just because shes NAMED after a lyre doesnt mean u gotta TURN into a liar)

NOW ITS TIME FOR THE CONTROVERSIAL KING!!!

JAMESON

okay… now i feel like the whole situation thing isnt as bad as i thought… BUT YALL ITS STILL BAD??? jameson has COMPLETELY iced lyra out. and now avery is missing??? those hawthornes will NEVER accept her. and yeah i get it lyra isnt dying for their acceptance, but like… family is so important to grayson, and not having his family support him for liking a girl would break him. not to mention how lyra must feel, loving a man whos family hates her.

anyway. back to jameson.

people tend to say that it wasnt jamesons fault (which no hate!! i understand opinions yall <3), but i have to disagree on the premise that indirectly causing a problem IS STILL CAUSING A PROBLEM!!! jameson was, and im sorry to say this, but selfish this book. he assumed that there were no other people at stake aside from his family. i DOUBT hes even taken the time to sympathize with lyra and how she must feel about alice, which is why she needs answers, and instead is just sitting there in his little pile of lie of omissions and acting like alice hawthorne is fucking voldemort with the whole “she-who-must-not-be-named”/“you-know-who” sitch. LIKE BITCH, EXPLAIN???? ughhhh he was just really stupid this book. BUTTT i understand the complexities of the situation, which is why i dont blame him entirely

5/10. dont tell my girl to go to hell EVER again u little bitch.

NOW TIME FOR THE SHIPS!!!

LYRA x GRAYSON

incredible. spectacular. amazing. giving EVERYTHING they need to give, and lyra finally letting him in???? PERFECT. the literal only issue with this relationship is little lord of lies over here (nickname conjured up by the spectacular gigi grayson) who was keeping things from the same girl who literally told him EVERYTHING. like bitch i will fight you. dont try me.

but like other than that, they were actually perfect. they matched each other so well, and grayson being so forward with her and admitting the things he actually felt instead of letting then pile up in his head was such a clear sign of his progress omg. AND GRAYSON CALLING HER SWEETHEART AGAIN?? seriously i think that was my favourite moment by them. and grayson was lowkey hella freaky in that scene bc the hint was for them to get some rest but grayson was being WILD about the whole bed thing 😭😭🙏

1283793/10. CHEFS KISS MWAH 🤌💋

ROHAN x SAVANNAH

okay, now honestly i wasnt the biggest rohannah fan in tgg… BUT WHY DID THEY EAT SO HARD IN THIS BOOK??? seriously they were FINALLY starting to develop, both as characters AND as couples. them both putting off the whole “betrayal, allies up until theyre not” thing until the VERY LAST MOMENT, and then even being allied after that shows that it was never just a strateguc alliance. it was so much more than that. UGHHHH THEY WERE INCREDIBLE!!

also kinda off topic… BUT WHY WERE THEY BEING SUCH MOTHER HENS TOWARDS LYRA??? 😭😭 literally the entire book they were acting like her parents istg. AND THAT SCENE ON LIKE CHAPTER 74 WHERE THEY FIND OUT GRAYSON “CHOSE AVERY” OR WHATEVER OVER HER??? literally was the biggest parental im-not-mad-just-disappointed “i told you so” moment from them ever LMFAOOOOO

1000/10. ATE.

GIGI x MATTIAS

honestly, they just served platonic friendship the entire time, and i feel like thats not just bc he kidnapped her (tho that plays a big role bc… HE KIDNAPPED HER???) but also bc she constantly didnt know where she stood with him. anyways, the whole sunshine thing was cute, but idek if jlb WANTS to make them a couple. maybe she will, maybe she wont. but if she does, i hope she does it nicely in the final book.

4/10. honestly forgot they were meant to be a couple 😭🙏

ANYWAYSSSS THATS ALL!! dont come at me for the jameson one okay pls 🙏 but feel free to comment ur own opinions as well!!!

[letoilepourpre]

I saw ya ask to 8ft about Den-Thorn.

As a local Thorn Appreciator. (Taps my badge that says, "Second person to post a fanfic about Thorn on AO3") I am intrugied....

dont even get me STARTED dude

long ass post btw

it's true that every vessel can have something to do with each other, all of them can be connected to one central theme, but what draws me the most to them is the themes around betrayal and dehumanization, and how many parallels den and thorn have in their chapters. in both of them it takes effort for you to see a better side of them, it takes mutual trust and forgiveness because at some point that is all you will have

thorn is still skittish and petty, den is still present-minded and a bit sadistic at times. but they are both tired of being stuck on that mode, thorn literally tells you that straight up and den pleads for freedom when she realizes that's the only thing she can do. and trusting both of them is extremely fulfilling in their respective cases! thorn can finally put her walls down and den shows herself to be someone who not only helps in times of danger but also regretful for her actions and even loyal when given the reason to be. i dont think they'd get along headfirst, but once they do theyre inseparale, since they find someone else who was also offered a good ending after all the suffering and lost of sense of self

especially what comes to mind when talking abt them is thorn's like "how can we trust something as hollow as words?", bc den is all about action. after you firstly enter her lair you do not speak one single word for the entire route, and neither does she. thorn would rather trust someone who actively shows themself to be trustful than someone with nothing but promises. and den cant really do any, the promise is the act itself yknow

but also now going more into hc territory, i see them both as disabled, thorn having problems w coordination bc of her wounds and den, well, being mute (unless shifty is talking through her, but that hardly counts as her speaking), and i like to imagine that theyd help each other out :) den w more physical stuff while thorn helps with communication. oh dont even get me started on that too i have so much to talk abt regarding den's means for communication and how that could interfere w a lot of her interactions w the vessels and voices BUT THIS ISNT ABT THAT maybe another time

i also rlly like how if you keep up w the unhealthy cycle in both of them they will bring their previous tactics up in a heartbeat, thorn immediately going back to her defensiveness and absolute hatred for you and den losing herself while trying to sate her hunger. i wish more ppl talked abt those aspects of them theyre so interesting to talk abt, thorn just NOT letting you out in any way if you decide to betray her and den indulging herself in the fight almost like a mirror to hunted, how narrator is such a petty asshole in both of them when youre trying to do the right thing

also i wanted to avoid talking abt them being cats and all that but i do wanna mention how that motif is used to show completely different outcomes from their previous chapters, to get to thorn witch has to regret her actions and think more abt that fucked up relationship thats been doing nothing but tiring her up, thus letting her guard down and get less skittish (yknow, like a cat) while den happens when you dehumanize the princess in such a way that it gives her no alternative other than becoming that monster you saw her as, even taking her voice away from her, any visual resemblance of her humanity being completely gone, a huge contrast to thorn. and yet they both had the same trigger to their transformations: betrayal. you gave them no reason to trust you, or no reason to believe that you would listen to their wishes without a price. they would find solace in each other for their loyalty and care that will show itself to be boundless when you give them the chance to show it!

i think that should cover up my general liking for them ehehe... thanks for giving me the chance to ramble

[littlelamy]

FIRST!! i want to say your writing is actually what i strive to be able to create, its just sooo mmmm perfect. next, this is gonna be a long requesttt bewareee...

okay so basically , s3 rafe yknow he’s a bit more mature, and he meets reader. rafe immediately just falls over heels for her while reader is just like over men and stuff because she wants to party through her early 20s and shit. whilst doing so rafe is like doing everything he can to get in close proximity with her and she thinks its just weird how he keeps showing up everywhere she goes. this goes on for a few months, and theyve had their fair share of conversations together— and shes not gonna lie. rafe isnt as bad as he seems, but she’s too scared to have to possibly deal with all the same bullshit she’s delt with in the past when it comes to relationships. so she still sticks with her party and get fucked mindset. it isnt until reader ends up going to a party she has no knowledge about with one of her friends to some ‘big ass mansion’ and SUPRISE it ends up being rafes party. the party is starting to wind down, and its near midnight, so reader just says ‘fuck it’ and HAS THE NASTIEST FUCK with rafe.

the morning following she wakes up and is just like “o”. her mind sets on sneaking out of the bed but he catches her in the act, he’s all like noo donnt gooo but reader still ends up leaving with a confused mind and no clue what to do 🙃

i apologize if this is a lot to ask for but if you take this up, thank you SO MUCH!!

notes: not too much!! i enjoyed writing it, so i hope you like it 🤍

you first meet him at the bar. not an unusual thing for a guy like him, all tailored button-ups and slicked-back hair, expensive watch flashing every time he lifts his glass. he's got this energy, like he owns the whole damn room, but the way he looks at you? like you're the only thing in it.

you don’t pay him much mind. you’re here to have fun, to drink, to dance, to forget the bullshit men have put you through. you and your friends are deep into shots and wild laughter when you feel his gaze again—burning, persistent. rafe fucking cameron. you'd heard of him. pogues had stories, kooks had whispers. rich boy, trouble, something about his dad, something about his temper. none of it concerned you. you weren’t looking for trouble, but somehow, trouble was looking for you.

he shows up everywhere after that. not in a creepy way, not exactly. just… coincidental. you hit a club with your girls, and there he is, leaning against the VIP booth like he’s been expecting you. you go to a late-night beach party, and he’s by the bonfire, drink in hand, talking to some people you vaguely know. you go to get coffee, and he’s in line before you, smirking when he catches your eye like he knows something you don’t.

months of this. conversations that start short but stretch longer each time. he’s charming, surprisingly so. not as much of an asshole as you thought, but still, there’s that edge to him, that undercurrent of something dangerous. and yet, you keep your distance. you’ve played this game before, and you’re not interested in losing again.

but then there’s the party. some ridiculous, over-the-top mansion event your friend drags you to, and you don’t even realize until you step inside that it’s his house. the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and intoxicating. the smell of weed and expensive cologne lingers in the air. you tell yourself you’re just here to have a good time, that it doesn’t matter that it’s his place, but when you lock eyes with him across the room, something in your chest tightens.

it’s late when you find yourself alone with him. the party has started to dwindle, people slipping away in drunken pairs or passing out on expensive furniture. he’s leaning against the pool table, watching you with that same look that’s been following you for months.

“so,” he says, voice smooth, teasing. “you finally made it to my house.”

“wasn’t on purpose,” you shoot back, but the corner of your lips betrays you, quirking up just slightly.

he grins. “sure.”

you don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you. maybe it doesn’t matter. what matters is that one second you’re trading sharp remarks, and the next his hands are on your waist, lips crashing against yours. it’s messy, desperate, months of tension snapping all at once.

his hands are everywhere, fingers digging into your waist, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulls you against him. his breath is hot against your skin, lips tracing down your jaw, your neck, lower. he doesn’t just kiss you—he devours you, teeth scraping, tongue soothing. your back hits something solid, a wall, a counter, maybe the pool table. it doesn’t matter. all that matters is the way he presses into you, heat radiating off him, his hard cock already straining against his jeans.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate. he yanks your dress up, pushes your panties aside, and sinks to his knees like a man starving. his mouth is hot and relentless, tongue flicking against your clit, lips sealing around you, sucking hard until you’re gasping, hands fisting in his hair. he moans against you, like he’s the one getting off on this, like he’s wanted to taste you for months and now he’s finally getting his fix. you grind against his face, pleasure winding tight in your belly, and when you come, it’s with his name tumbling from your lips, breathless, desperate.

he’s not done yet. he stands, eyes dark, pupils blown, and flips you around. his hand presses between your shoulder blades, arching your back, positioning you just how he wants. his belt clinks, jeans drop, and then he’s there, the thick head of his cock nudging at your dripping entrance before he thrusts in, hard and deep. you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick surface beneath you. he groans, low and filthy, hands gripping your hips so tight you know you’ll bruise.

he fucks you like he owns you, like he’s been waiting too long for this and has no intention of taking it slow. each thrust is deep, punishing, his hips slamming against yours. his fingers slip down, circling your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that make your knees weak.

"so fucking tight," he groans, voice rough. "been dreaming about this, baby. you feel even better than I imagined."

it’s too much. the stretch, the pressure, the way he takes and takes like he can’t get enough. you’re unraveling, coming again, and he’s right behind you, hips stuttering, a growl tearing from his throat as he spills deep inside you. he stays there for a moment, breathing hard, before pulling out, fingers dipping between your legs to push his cum back inside.

"not wasting a drop," he mutters, smirking against your shoulder. you’re wrecked, ruined, shaking—but God, you want more.

you wake up in his bed, tangled in silk sheets that smell like him. your head is a little hazy, your body sore in the best way. reality creeps in slow and unwelcome. you’re not the kind of girl who does this. not anymore.

you move carefully, slipping out of bed, searching for your clothes in the dim morning light. you don’t even make it two steps before his voice, thick with sleep, stops you.

“wait, why are you leaving?”

you freeze. he’s watching you, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp, like he knew you’d try to run.

“oop,” you jump, surprised and already on edge. “this was just—” you gesture vaguely, trying to make it seem casual, insignificant. “fun.”

his jaw ticks. “right.”

but he doesn’t argue, doesn’t stop you; the look in his eyes says this isn’t over.

not even close.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[emmas]

I dont know exactly How they are going to get there and what the answers to all the mysteries are bc i’m simply Not a talented writer lol However i dont think the place where severance wants to take its story is all That difficult to predict if you just. Take a step back and remember whats most important and thats 1: the core theme of the show, which is Personhood and “who are you” and what makes a person a person. And 2: the protagonists mark and helly/helena

Like the show that asks you the question “are innies real people who deserve rights” is simply not going to end without giving the innies their rights. Any ending where the innies are just Erased or where their thoughts/feelings/opinions have 0 weight in a reintegrated body is just. Not going to happen. The show spent 2 seasons building up to the finale where mark s decides that he is a person of his own rather than just an attachment to his outie i know it was presented as a choice between gemma and helly but it really was just mark s realizing that he is someone who Deserves to live just as much as his outie does.

Now tying it into Mark Scout. Who has spent 2 years avoiding his grief, becoming an alcoholic, being a downright asshole at times (affectionate) and going as far as to Sever his brain in half in order to escape his pain. He’s not going to just get what he wants (Rekindling his marriage) while facing 0 consequences for All That. Mark basically looked into the camera (2x06) and said “perhaps i will be the first man on this planet to bargain my way out of grief” like. The show is not just going to actually let that happen lol. His reasons for choosing severance are understandable and its not like he’s a Bad person or anything but that doesn’t erase the fact that he created innie mark. It was his choice to create a person that is a version of himself who Does Not Love Gemma. And this isnt something he’s just going to be allowed to run from. They’re not going to end his character arc by ‘validating’ all this and just letting him live happily ever after with his wife while innie mark just doesn’t matter at all anymore. I still firmly believe his ending is to become Whole again (reintegration) and finally Deal with his feelings, accept his grief and move on.

Helena meanwhile is as much of a protagonist as helly is (its bc they’re the same person, even tho some people Love to ignore that). And the show has gone out of its way to make it Clear that she is just as trapped inside of lumon as the innies. Jame saying he “used to see kier” in helena tells us she used to be similar to helly, but it was simply Conditioned out of her by growing up in a cult with its leader as her father. I think Hellyna’s story will be to break free of lumon and her father so she can discover who it is she actually is when she’s not forced to wear a multitude of masks in order to please others. So any ending where helena dies and helly gets the body, or any ending that doesn’t see them reintegrating just doesn’t make sense to me bc in order to find themselves they both have to Accept who they are and getting rid of one of them just defeats that purpose imo.

Idk how the show will tie up the stories of some side characters (gemma, irving, cobel etc) and i dont know what will happen with lumon like if “lumon gets dismantled and everyone lives happily ever after” is Too idyllic of an ending. And i’m sure theres a few plot twist left and some mysteries to solve.

But at the end of the road we will have mark, hellyna and the main Theme of personhood. And i think that story will end with true reintegration for them both. Wether they end the show in a romantic relationship or not is 50/50. I genuinely think there’s a chance. Because thats what innie mark and helly are dead set on. But mark will still undeniably love gemma as well, so i think it might be too soon for the story to just have him in a different official relationship™. So i’m leaning more towards both of them deciding to take some time for themselves to figure some shit out before they promise to meet each other again a year from now.

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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[iznyangwoni]

DEMON HUNTERS | enhypen smau !

chapter four

For the first time in your life you’re glad the staff took your phone. You tried to not let it show too much, but it was getting harder and harder to not focus on the hate and overall cheating from fans. It was making you go insane, actually.

So, having a full day just for you and the girls was so, so therapeutic. It started with you three going on some rides, then the sauna, then you got great food and now it is time for Rei to film her own part of the video. You wanted to take this time to go and skate with Liz, but she’s already sleeping in the car. You decided to not disturb her, after all you all have been working nonstop, both as idols and hunters.

Its been so long since you’ve actually skated, its not like you’re the best at it, but it has always been something that helped you take your mind off things for the time being. You don’t expect anyone to be inside the skating ring, since your company actually rented the place for the whole day, so you get surprised when you see a guy going for some rounds.

You don’t think too much about it, its probably someone who entered by mistake. You sit down just to change your shoes, after all this time you still find yourself smiling at the memories going through your head, you always used to go skating with your mother when you were little. You sit there for a while, waiting for the young man to finish, or at least notice your presence, but he also seems in his own world.

You subconsciously stare at him, he’s mesmerizing, in a sense. You’ve never had the talent, but you have seen enough competitions to recognize it, and this guy is surely a skating genius. Even this far you can tell he’s handsome, the pale skin almost shines inside the ring, and then he’s tall and the dark hair frame his face so neatly even though he’s been moving for a while.

It hits you when he finally looks your way, you’ve seen him before, of course you did. He’s one of them, one of those demons. The revelation stuns you, demons can’t have talents, or hobbies, that’s for sure. When he smiles you notice how his fangs are a little pronounced, and you hate yourself for thinking of that as attractive.

You don’t know what to do, you’ve been staring at a demon for at least fifteen minutes and didn’t even know. Before he can get closer, you hide behind the plastic wall of the ring, which isnt the smartest thing to do anyway. You find it hard to breathe, these demons are making all of your beliefs sound like lies. You thought they only acted according to gwima, you know they do.

His laugh takes you by surprise, he’s standing on the other side of the ring, his arms crossed and resting on the half wall, staring down at you. From this distance he looks even more attractive, and once again you want to slap that thought out of your brain. “So you’re the type to stare? Kinda creepy.” Are you blushing? You sure hope you aren’t.

“I’m not- I wasn’t staring I just…” For god’s sake, you’ve never felt more embarrassed your whole life. You clear your throat, and awkwardly get up from that awful hiding spot. Even face to face he’s too tall for you. “What’s a demon doing here, exactly?” You try your best to get your confidence back, even if you’re way too embarrassed right now, he doesnt have to know that.

“Sunghoon.” He says it so simply that it takes you a moment to process. “My name is Sunghoon, so you can stop calling me ‘demon’, it’s not so polite.” He’s calm, way too calm and with that smile still on his face, you don’t even realize you havent summoned your weapon to fight him. And honestly, it doesn’t look like he wants to fight either. But then the thought of Liz sleeping in the van all alone and Rei filming on her own hits you. If he’s here then that must mean the others are too.

“Where are your friends? I swear if they touch Liz or-“ Before you can spiral and summon your sword, his voice cuts through. “They’re just filming. They won’t hurt your friends.” Once again, something in his demeanor makes you want to believe him and relax. It makes you wonder, just a couple of nights ago Heeseung was telling you about winning and taking over, but now they’re just… filming? Like a normal group?

You’ll fry your brain trying to figure out their plan, and to think that you went here just to relax. Still, Sunghoon might sound truthful, but you don’t have the gut to trust him. You sit down again, feeling the need to change your shoes back and go find the others. “C’mon.. you don’t trust me?”

“It’d be dumb of me to trust a demon like you.” You hear him sigh, then he jumps out of the ring, you don’t look up when he sits besides you, you can feel your whole body stiffen. You don’t know why you’re reacting this way, if it were Heeseung or Jungwon you would’ve already slit his throat already. Maybe he has some sort of magic? Nah, Seulgi would’ve warned you about it that when training you. “You and your friends are not our goal. If any of you were to die we wouldn’t have any fans to steal.”

As much as you hate to admit it, that sounds about right. They want your fans, your popularity, and judging by how the honmoon has been breaking day by day, they’re succeeding. Maybe you haven’t been thinking about this the right way, and right now you can barely even think when he’s sitting so close to you. When you finally look up, he’s smiling genuinely. “So? Do you still want to skate?”

Surprisingly, you nod.

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