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#no but I CAN’T write until I have at least a dozen books of story ready to go

dazed--xx · 1 year

Text

Breathless

Member: Hyunjin x reader

Word count: 21.3K

IDOL CAMEOS: Karina-Aespa, Yeji-Itzy, Lia-Itzy, Joshua-Seventeen, Chanyeol-Exo

Trigger warnings: SMUT, toxic relationships, ANGST, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), fake texts, mentions of alcholism (By side character), mentions of cheating, mentions of medical issues, mentions of anxiety. anything else i could have forgotten.

A/N: I wanted to start writing for other groups for a while, and i watched the Case 143 comeback and just fell down a Stray Kids rabbit hole again so i decide to write this i hope you guys enjoy, let me know if you want a part two. also i do commissions, personally i dont like buy me a coffee but i do have cashapp, paypal and venmo if you ever want to get a commission i do still have a buy me a coffee as well anyway enjoy

“Can't you stay?”

Your voice is shaky as you look at him with hope filled eyes. You could tell even just from looking at his back, as an annoyed sigh is released from his lips, he had rolled his eyes. “Cant. Sorry” He states matter of factly. He wasn’t sorry... you knew he wasn’t; he never was. He always said it anytime you'd ask, never giving a reason beyond ‘cant’ yet you still find yourself asking “w-why not?” your tone is so soft you don’t even register the words had actually come out until he snaps “I mean it's not really your business is it?” quickly turning to face you as he forces his shirt on. “Does it matter?” your teeth capture your bottom lip as you hold the blanket over your bare chest. Your gaze avoiding his glare “I guess not...” the familiar prick behind your eyes has your vision blurring. You hear your bedroom door open “H-have fun I guess....” you call to him only to be met with the sound of the door closing.

Of course, not.... You hadn't expected as much anyway.

In the past 10 months of your relationship with him you have learned plenty of things about Hwang Hyunjin. He was a passionate dance major, spending more time in the dance studio than in his own dorm. He had a love for art, with dozens of classic paintings littering his dorm. Along with his own. He was independent, charming, and undeniably gorgeous. But he was also cold, distant, and lacked social etiquette. He was quick to tell you exactly what was on his mind whether it hurt or not. If he chose not to vocalize his disinterest; his expression was an open book for all to read anyway. He enjoyed the party lifestyle, if his social media was anything to go by, he’d often be spotted in the background of photos with his best friends; Seo Changbin and Han Jisung.

Everyone in your university wanted at least one of them. Most of the female population had a ‘night to remember’ story with either one of them. They were blunt and honest about their lack of commitment, only needing a warm body as a temporary place holder in their beds.

Relationships were off the table. Sure, they’d be down for a good time here or there but in Jisung’s own words “Relationships equal clingy annoying problems” which is why you were so surprised when Hyunjin asked for exclusivity oh so matter of factly last year. You had been sleeping together on and off after your dance instructors paired you up for your first joint project between both of your classes. It had been a late night in the studio running through one of your last rehearsals before evaluations. You weren't sure if it was the close sensual nature of the choreography, thanks to Hyunjin, or the ambiance in the dimly lit studio but as the song came to its conclusion; both of your chests heaving against each other, your eyes meet. Your bottom lip finds its way in between your teeth. His hand caressing your cheek as his thumb traces over your bottom lip “Fuck......Don't. Don’t do that” his voice full of something unfamiliar to you. “Do what?” you ask innocently your hands grip his shirt. His hold on you tightens around your waist, pulling you closer into his slim muscular figure. The tip of his tongue brushes over his plush lips. Your cheeks and ears burn a bright scarlet. Looking back, you weren't entirely sure who initiated it but soon, your lips meet. Shortly after you felt the cool glass mirror against your bare chest as Hyunjin attacked your core. His thrusts ruthless until you reached a mind-bendingng orgasm. Youd only realized your mistake afterward when he quickly fixed his clothes and ran out the door.

You took the loss in stride. Avoiding the topic during the last 2 weeks of rehearsal, acting as if it never happened. You never stayed alone with him longer than necessary, you'd pull away the moment the song came to an end even though sometimes he’d try to hold you in place for a while longer. Youd make sure the studio was properly lit at all times. Only texting him about rehearsals and quickly dismissing his selfies and flirty remarks. You would begin spending your lunch in the university library when Jisung set his sights on your best friend, Karina, and he and his best friends began impeding on your time with your best friends. Only truly having to come face to face with Hyunjin at your evaluation.

As the song came to a close you ripped yourself from Hyunjin’s grasp, thanked the judges for their time, collected your phone and made your way out of the studio and into the locker room. Reaching your locker, you force your dance bag out of its confinement. A sigh of relief is released from your throat. Your eyes focusing on the mirror you kept on the back wall; you steady your breathing. Closing the door, the need to shower now replacing your anxiety. Turning toward the private showers your face is met with a wall of muscle. The familiar cologne fills your nostrils, dread fills your stomach as you silently beg the ground to swallow you whole. “Sorry” you murmur as you attempt to make your way around him. A small ‘tsk’ is heard from above you as he places himself in front of you again. “Do you have a problem or something?” you snap. An amused smirk finds its way to his plush lips. Damn you Hwang, you think to yourself, as he shrugs and shakes his head. “Why are you avoiding me?” He pouts. You hate how your heart races “I'm not” you shrug “Just no reason for us to interact anymore” his eyebrows scrunch together his pout only growing at your words “You don’t want me anymore?” needless to say you ended that interaction pressed against the shower wall his lips attached to your neck as he guides you on his shaft. Only for the cycle to continue over and over until your presence in each other's lives was nonstop. Then one day he had asked you to be his girlfriend with a nonchalant shrug, murmuring back a shy ‘yes’ and 10 months later your cat and mouse game continued.

Apart from the occasional quickie or stolen kiss, you rarely see the man that claims to be your boyfriend. Your offers to accompany him to the studio remain declined, stolen moments with him moved from the library study rooms to either one of your dorms in the late hours of the night. You should have seen his rejection coming; it's all he’s ever done. His friends, the studio, parties all get more of Hyunjin’s time than you. With the summer coming to an end and the dance studio finally opening up again tonight, you knew immediately he’d go; especially with it being all the other dance majors can talk about due to the party being held there.

“UM....HELLOOO!!!” your dormmate Lia, exclaimed as she snapped in front of your eyes pulling you out of your trance. You glare at her petite frame. “Busy in wonderland there, Alice?” she giggles. “HA.HA. You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” you quip. “Anyway...what's up?” you question adjusting the blanket, Lia places a pout on her lips “I need a favor”

“If it's buying condoms for you again the answer is no” you growl.

“No, smartass. Not this time, but I'm really busy studying for the stupid exam I have tomorrow since my psychology professor is a psychopath and Yeji is sick do you think you can run and grab some medicine for her?” she pleads. You smirk at her “What if I was busy?”

“With what? Hwang left already. You’re going to spend the rest of the night in bed. Like you always do” she snarls before she turns and makes her way out the door.

“Love you. Goodnight.” she calls

______________________________________________________________

You couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty that is Jongno-gu, walking along the river toward Yeji’s off campus dorm. Your eyes drift to the beautiful lights that decorate the road indicating the little restaurants and shops. An envious feeling grows in the pit of your stomach as a young man chases his girlfriend around the gorgeous area; smiles plastered on their faces as he finds his arms encasing her from behind. Lucky....you think to yourself. If only you were more like Lia or Yeji or Karina. You take a single pause in your movements. A memory growing in your mind of you having to spend your last paycheck at your summer job your senior year on bail for Karina due to her ex cheating on her and her taking a bat to his car and him. Okay maybe not Karina......you thought. The whirring of an engine cutting your thoughts off as a single headlight blinds you. You force yourself right and collide with the hard concrete. Brushing your hair out of your face before you dust off your legs. Pulling yourself off the ground, you notice the motorcyclist shoving the bike off his leg. “Oh my god! Are-Are you okay?” Your eyes widen in panic as you rush toward the driver. He unbuckles his helmet and pulls it off.

Your heart races as honey blonde hair begins blowing subtly in the small wisps of wind. His brown eyes sitting in a scowl. You couldn’t help but stare at his heart shaped plush lips, noticing the freckles that litter his face.

Fuck...

He was absolutely mesmerizing. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the roar of multiple engines. His eyes widen as he stares in the direction he came, tossing his helmet into your arms he takes off in the direction you had just come from. Your eyes widen as you stare down at the glossy black and red headgear. “E-Excuse--” you tried to call after him as 4 motorbikes whip past you following after the mystery man. You contemplate just leaving the helmet on the bike and returning to your task. You groan to yourself as you notice the headlight still on and the idling of the engine. You stomp your foot in frustration.

Ughh this is so not worth my time....

You notice the bikes disappearing in the distance. Taking the helmet and placing it on the ground before you grab the handlebars of the motorcycle and after a long struggle you were finally able to lift it. Bringing the kickstand down you place the helmet on the seat. The tightness in your chest from the unexpected work out has you reconsidering if you care if the bike got stolen or not; the owner obviously didn’t. You stare in the direction of Yeji’s place noticing the beautiful welcoming lights. You growl to yourself as you slowly lift the kickstand taking hold of the handlebars once again you drag the vehicle in the direction its owner dashed to. Your eyes roam the area as you wearily drag the bike along in search of its owner. You notice a group of motorcycles in the parking lot to the docks. Hiding the bike behind the dumpster in front of said lot. Helmet in your arms, you quietly make your way toward the sound of shouting. You can hear them getting louder as you stand against a pilar attached to the side of the dock. You notice the honey blonde stranger dashing toward the end of the pier you were currently on. You thanked God no one saw you as they dashed past you. You throw your head back in relief and in an instant a sharp pain rings through the back of your skull.

You groan placing your hand over your mouth and rolling your eyes at your foolishness. Your heart sinks into your ass as red and blue lights begin to come from behind you and the loud wail of a siren rings through the air. Your eyes widen in bewilderment as you quickly try to find an off switch on the unexpectedly placed 112 help box. You can hear the sounds of the boys retreat as you continuously hit the box. The siren finally coming to a halt.

You let out a sigh of relief as you slowly back out from your hiding spot. Your back meeting a warm wall. where one previously was not; you jump at the contact, whipping around you come face to face with the angelic honey blonde stranger. A gasp escapes your throat at the sudden closeness, his lips were drawn in a straight line, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you a stalker or something?” he questions, you were shocked at the amount of bass in his voice. Your eyebrows scrunch together letting out an annoyed scoff as you turn to leave. A ‘tsk’ is released from his lips as his hand grabs your hood and pulls you back into his chest; his arm snakes around your waist. You turn your head to face him, your heart races as your noses brush. Your eyes widen as you pull back, your eyes roaming over his face. They land on his alluring heart shaped lips. You wondered what it would be like to kiss them, though you don’t believe they’d feel as good as Hyunjin’s, they do look quite soft. Butterflies danced in your stomach, as his lips turned up into an amused smirk “What are you looking at?” He quips. Your face is painted a bright scarlet as you force yourself from his arms “Bye!” you call as you dash toward the direction of Yeji’s place. You can hear his deep raspy voice calling toward you as you continue your escape; completely and utterly embarrassed. Your legs refusing to stop until you finally reach Yeji’s door. Knocking as you try to catch your breath.

“Finally,” Yeji declares as she swings open her door. Her cheeks a rosy, pink, lilac fluffy blanket enveloping her petite figure. “Where the hell did you get a helmet?”

______________________________________________________________

You hate Mondays.

And not in the Garfield way or the ‘79 school shooter way. You just hate them with a passion from today on. After yesterday's rounds with Hyunjin and the motorcycle debacle your body is absolutely sore and ready to give up on itself. Regretting even getting out of bed, you stare tiredly at the gates of the university. You scowl at the crowds of people with happy smiles on their faces, coffee in hand. A yawn escapes from your throat before you could stop it, you notice a small crowd standing under the cherry blossom tree. Your hair races as you recognize the familiar blonde tresses, a smile on his lips as he slightly shoves Jisung. You take a small step forward before your movements halt; a petite brunette and what you could assume to be her friends came into to view. Her hand lay on Hyunjin’s bicep before she slowly trails it along his arm. He smiles at her leaning in and whispering something in her ear. A gut-wrenching sting fills your stomach as your throat burns with jealousy when you see him remove a petal from her hair and stroke a stray hair behind her ear. Your breathing grows shaky as tears threaten to fall.

A manicured hand snapping in your face forces you to pull your attention away from the pair. You smile as a coffee is handed to you; a pair of arms are wrapped around your neck as you come face to face with your childhood best friend, Yoo Ji-Min (who’d kill you if you called her anything but Karina. Her new name she had claimed when she declared she wanted to be an idol 5 years ago). “What are we staring at?” she questions as she places her cheek against yours releasing you from her grasp as she notices the pair. “Seriously?” she scoffs. You shake your head at her tone “They're just talking....” you mumble. She crosses her arms over her chest “Thats why I found you alone instead of over there like last year?” she growls. You shrug in response “I don’t want to bother with it right now, I'm so tired”

“What are you doing for your intro solo today?” she asks, your whole-body tenses as your eyes widen in realization “crying?” you respond. “You?! The queen of having everything planned down to the second of a song doesn’t have a plan? Like no choreo at all?” Karina gasps as she drags you along the path to the dance building. “Don't remind me, okay? I went through too much last night! And no are you crazy of course I have some choreo it's just not........up to my standards I guess” you whine as you stomp your foot pressing your chest against her arm with your chin sitting on her shoulder. “So then, you're ready” she smirks wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “You over think these things Y/N you need to relax honestly, you're a great choreographer and you're only in your second semester! Your dance is fine” she reassures you.

You shrug in response “Not this time....” your eyes can't help but drift to the pair once again. The girl leaned against the cherry blossom tree, Hyunjin stood a little too close as she giggled at something he was saying. “No! THIS time I decided ‘oh let's be special lets at stunts’ and then completely forget I even had to do the damn dance and now I'm going to make a complete fool of myself. The instructor already emailed me personally to tell me she was looking forward to my solo specifically, I can’t go in there and fall on my---BIKE!!!!” Your whines were cut off by a loud shout and the familiar roar of an engine grew louder. Hearing it come closer and closer to you, you whip your head around only to see the familiar silhouette of a motorcycle barreling toward you; quickly wrapping both of your hands around Karina’s arms you shove her back with your back pressed against her chest. Your heart races as you notice the black and red bike. Your eyes flashing to the driver, “no. Way...." You whisper to yourself in disbelief as the driver cuts off the engine and pulls off the matte black helmet. The same angelic glowing stupid face...you think to yourself. You notice a group of guys greeting him with warm cheers and hugs. A glare sits on your face as anger courses through your veins like venom. Releasing your hold on Karina you stomp your way over to the honey blonde boy.

He smiles as your eyes meet; your hands quickly meet his chest as you shove him back. A loud ‘oh’ is heard from the small crowd of boys. “That is the second and last time you almost kill me with that thing” you exclaim as you shove him again. His hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his chest. Fighting against his hold you notice the smug smirk on his lips. Your knee jerks into his thigh. He jumps at the close call. “If you don’t want me to hit you there let me, go cause that was the warning shot.” you growl. “Are you calm?” he questions. “I won't hit you again if that’s what you're asking” at your words his grip is released on your waist.

As soon as you were free you punched his arm

“You said!”

“I lied! Do you have a thing for almost running me over or can you just not see for shit?” He places his finger in his chin as if he were thinking “I think it’s a you thing” You glare at him “I should have let your stupid bike get stolen” you grumble as you turn to return to Karina. Your movements are brought to a halt as you notice all eyes on you. Your eyes drift over the crowd as you feel a hand on your wrist. You turn your head to the owner “Wait.” he smiles. Your heart races as your eyes meet “w-what?”

“You still have my helmet, gorgeous” he whispers in your ear. Your eyes widen in realization as you pull away from him. “Fuck! I do!” You exclaim “I'm so sorry I'll bring it to you tomorrow” your eyes fall on Karina who looked on in amusement a mischievous glint in her eye. Looking past her, you notice Hyunjin’s attention fully on you; a scowl on his face his arm wrapped in Jisung’s grip. “She your girlfriend Lixie?” One of his friends teased as you stomp past them. You glare at him, Bang Chan, the school's number 1 in academics a senior. Deciding it's better to just let it go you shake your head and stomp away.

Karina rushes to your side, her hands quickly wrapping themselves around your arm as she drags you toward the dance building.

“Explain. Now.” she demands

______________________________________________________________

You can't help the smile that remains planted on your lips as you enter the dance studio. Dropping your bags in the corner and out of the way you drag Karina to the center of the room and dropping into your position for stretching. The studio always made you find a sense of relief and comfort. You loved the way you’d lose yourself in the choreography. You were quite flexible; taking advantage of the gymnastics and taekwondo skills you’ve acquired over the years now making you able to include high level stunts in your routines. While you wouldn’t say you were the best dancer in your major, you could argue you were in the top 15. Changing from your legs open to spreading into a straddle you grasp Karinas hands as she slowly lays back.

“Damn Y/N, if I knew you could do that, I definitely would have hit that before Hwang” Jisung whispered in your ear, a scoff is released from your throat as your head whips around to see Jisung only a couple of inches from your face. Your eyes widen as you pull your head farther away from his face. “What is wrong with you?” You question in disgust as a black boot comes in contact with Jisung’s ribcage kicking him over. Your eyes trail up the person's figure, only to be met with your boyfriend's bored expression focused on you his hands sitting in his pockets. You quickly look away as your cheeks heat up, butterflies fluttering all over your stomach. “It was a fucking joke....” Jisung mumbled, as he glides across the floor next to Karina “Kiss it better?” he pouts to her. You feel a warmth surrounding you, a pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You notice Jisung staring awestruck at Karina while she did her split stretching one up and leaning back. “Do that on me please” He begs her, her cheeks burn a bright scarlet. You feel Hyunjin’s fingers losing themselves in your hair as he places his face in your neck. You tangle your fingers in his hair, a shy smile growing on your face; your ears and cheeks burning a bright scarlet at the new action.

“Oh my god! Why are you here?” Karina snaps both of your eye's flash to her and Jisung who now had his head on her shoulder “Aren't you a music major?” He lifts his head from her and places his hand on his chest “You’re keeping tabs on me?!” A sly smirk grows on his face “You should just let me give you what you want baby”

“I'd rather fuck a double-edged sword” She growls.

“Can I watch?”

“Why are you such a fan? Huh Simp Boy?”

“You act like you don’t want me” Jisung counters, his eyebrow raised. You shake your head as you roll your eyes. “Ladies” you interrupt “You’re both pretty” you groan before you reluctantly pull yourself from Hyunjin’s grasp and stand up. You can feel his eyes on you as you make your way toward the water fountain. “Where are you going?” Karina calls. “Away from whatever the fuck is going on with you two” you retort.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the uncomfortable pressure that filled you once Hyunjin’s arms encased you. That’s odd... you thought Hes never done anything like that before.

You remember the scowl embedded on his face, Jisung’s hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. You know you'd have to explain the interaction......possibly, judging by the way he, himself, was flirting with another girl this morning he more than likely wouldn’t even care. You laugh at the irony; you don’t understand why you felt so guilty when he didn’t, yet you did. “Wow helmets leave some water for the fish” A familiar deep velvety voice rings from behind you. You hate how annoyingly sexy you find it----Helmet?!?! A glare forms on your eyes as you turn to face him. “Are you stalking me or something?” A bright smile is brought to his face, your heart flutters at the action, a warmth grows in your stomach.

“Why, Helmet you seem to think highly of yourself” He quips, his eyebrow raised “Why? you into that sort of thing?” he winks. Your mouth falls agape at his question. How could someone that looks so angelic be such a.........demon. “Stop calling me that! My name is Y/N”

“Well do I have my helmet?”

“Well, no but---But nothing until I have my very expensive helmet back, you'll be whatever I call you” He cut you off “You'll have it tomorrow until then-------OKAY PEOPLE! I don’t have all day so I’ll make this quick. Places! I'm explaining this one time and one time only. You will all be doing your intro solos if you aren't prepared that’s not my problem; everyone got the email. Everyone will be required to perform a routine that best represents your dance style; you will then be paired up with another person that’s style matches your own. They will be your partner for the rest of the semester. Any Questions?” The instructor declared as she barreled through the double doors, dropping her bag and placing herself at the head of the room. Everyone's eyes roamed around the room as the stragglers began to join the semi-circle that had formed due to the instructor's abrupt entrance. You notice a familiar pixie like brunette in your place beside Hyunjin.

Great......she's here too.... you thought to yourself.

“Okay! Yang Ye-na you're up” the instructor calls as the girl stands from her spot and makes her way to the center of the room. You grow envious at the winks her and Hyunjin exchange. You notice the darkness in his eyes as he stares her down. Embarrassment fills you as you beg the ground to swallow you whole. Tears burn your eyes at the realization, He doesn’t care......You were so fucking stupid to think you were different; that he wanted you and only you. Of course, he’d want her, she was absolutely flawless. Her beautiful wavy hair pulled up in a half up half down style; her bangs framed her face perfectly. Her body was curvy in all the right places while you were just average. Hyunjin was practically a god, why would he actually waste his time on you when he could be with women on his level. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of applause. Quickly joining in with your peers, you clap unenthusiastically.

The rest of the performances flew by, you received high praises for your choreography to ‘Unholy’ by Sam Smith. Yet, you quickly placed yourself where you previously sat and tucked your face behind your hair. Continuing your train of (over) thought. Going through the motions as everyone performed but Karina. You couldn’t help yourself when your best friend performed. Your applause louder than the rest of the class as her song came to its conclusion. A proud smile on your face. “Okay! That was the final dancer, good job everyone.” the instructor calls as she tapes a paper to the mirror. “Here are your partners” she declares as she walks toward the back of the room. Everyone quickly rushed over to the list.

Choi Yeonjun-Han Eunji

Han Jisung-Yoo Ji-Min

Hwang Hyunjin-Yang Ye-na

Jung Wooyoung- Hwang Yeji

Kang Chanhee-Kwon Eunbin

Lee Juyeon-Kim Min-Jeong

Lee Minho-Lee Chae-yeon

Lee Yongbok-Park Y/N

Son Dongju-Lee Seoyeon

Your heart sank in your chest as Karina grasped your arm examining the list. A scowl grows on her flawless feature. Her mouth hanging open as she internally rages. “NO!” she finally exclaims. You hear a chuckle from behind you, turning around your met with Jisung standing with an arrogant smirk “It's like were meant to be or something” He laughs. Karina fakes a gag as she shoves her way out of the crowd. Jisung reaches out to her “But Baby!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. Shoving your own way out, you notice Hyunjin and Ye-na huddled in the corner by the speaker. A smile planted on his lips as he sat beside her. Your eyebrows scrunch together as they shift closer. You knew his reputation but at least last year he was fucking subtle. Why'd he even ask you out? You wonder to yourself. It's not like he actually acted like he was in a relationship. It was always late-night booty calls when no one could dare catch either of you leaving the others dorm. Your texts typically go unanswered and if he does take the time to respond it's always one or two words. You notice his hand now placed on her knee, as he stared at her. Wow you thought to yourself.

Your view of the pair is blocked by the one person you wished you'd never have to deal with again. “WOW!” you roll your eyes at his enthusiasm. You notice Hyunjin and Ye-na's attention leaving each other and turning it to the loud boom of the boys' voice in front of you. You finally plant your eyes on his face, his eyes are squinted adorably as his heart shaped lips formed an angelic smile. “Looks like were partners, Helmet” He states happily “It's like fate. Maybe you're like my soulmate or something?” you groan in response “or god just hates me....” you stomp your foot, grabbing your water bottle from the ground and shoving past him toward Karina.

“C’mon Helmet, don’t break my heart already” He whined as he followed you wrapping his arm around your shoulder and jostling your hair. “Yah! Do you want to die?!” you threaten as you shove him off you and fix your hair. You hold back a laugh as, Yongbok apparently, trips over his feet and comes colliding with the person walking past. Your hand smacks over your mouth as you snicker while he bows his head at the person mumbling a quick apology before springing up and reaching for you. You hold your arm out your finger pointed at him “No, whatever it is youre planning. Unplan it” you warn as you take a step back. He feigns innocence shaking his head and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Cute” he states matter of factly

“What?”

“Nothing just the fact that you thing you're scary is cute”

“Okay. No.” you hear from behind Yongbok before you feel a strong grip on your arm as you are whisked toward the door. Your eyes land on your captor, the familiar mop of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you look at Karina pleading for her help. She sat comfortably in her position giving you a knowing smirk.

You stumbled on your feet as Hyunjin continued to drag you out of the studio. You struggle to stay up right as to you tried to keep up with his pace. Your nerves build as he pulls you into an empty studio locking the door before he shoved you against the wall. A loud ‘THUD’ rings through the room. Your eyes drift over his flawless features, an irritated glare planted on his eyes. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he growls wrapping his hand around your throat sending a shock to your core. Your eyebrows scrunch together as a confused pout forms on your lips “W-what?” He presses his body against yours “Dont act fucking stupid” he snaps his grip getting tigher on your throat making your panties grow wet. “Hyun, I really don’t know what youre tal---Why was he all over you?” he cuts you off. You’re completely awestruck at his question. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, the words not coming to you

His patience grew thinner as each second passed. You hate to admit it to yourself but he has you absolutely soaked. “I-its not like that” you finally mutter “I just met him”

“When?”

“When what?”

“when did you meet him?” he asks “you two seem.....comfortable” you almost laugh at the irony, he had some nerve that’s for sure. “I mean its not really your business is it?” you quip throwing his words from last night back at him “Does it matter?” you see a fire grow in his eyes “so what? Youre fucking him now?” He spits. An offended scoff is released from your throat “Sure, I mean its not like youre the only person I've fucked for the past few months.” You argue.

“Does he know that?”

“Does Ye-na?” you counter.

A smug smirk grows on his lips, as his eyes drift to your lips. “Does he know how hard I fuck you?” Hyunjin asks as he turns you around pressing your chest against the cool wall. You whine at his rough action. “I just met him!” you declare “Yet he has a little name for you” His nip at your ear, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair gripping it roughly and forcing your head back. You groan internally at the mention of the new nickname. You hate how easily Hyunjin turns you into a whimpering pleasing mess for him. His arousal evident as he presses his member against you. His lips brush over your ear, his free hand trailing over your jaw before gripping your chin and forcing you to face him. Your bottom lip finds its way in-between your teeth. Your eyes connecting once more, his grasp on your hair tightens. Suppressing a moan, you squeeze your thighs together pressing your ass firmly against his hard member.

Your breaths fill the air as your body trembles in arousal and hints of fear. You’ve never seen Hyunjin this mad or angry in general. His eyes burned holes into you, your eyes flashing behind him. Your body jumps when you feel his soft plush lips on your throat; fingers wrapping in his hair pulling him closer to you. It was no secret to anybody, including Hyunjin, that you were weak for him. Even if you typically would not stand for half of the things, he put you through you still find yourself making excuses for it time and time again. Yet, in moments like this, where you can see that glint in his eye you can trick yourself into thinking you were more than a temporary fascination. You hate how badly you want him despite his previous actions in the day. You’ve never been the bratty type, but the look on Hyunjin’s face unlocks a new part of you. You’ve never thought to actually test Hyunjin’s limits and see how far you could take things like he’s done oh so many times before. Still, you can't find yourself stopping the words before they come out.

“Hes cute isn't he?” A mischievous smirk plays on your lips. “And he’s my dance partner. You never know what could happen when you have to be so......close” you whisper in his ear seductively. You could practically feel yourself dripping in anticipation when you feel Hyunjin’s body tense against yours; Pulling back you can't help the warmth that grows in your chest when you notice the panicked expression painting Hyunjin’s face. His jaw clenches as his strong grip returns to your hair pulling you forward so your faces were only centimeters apart. “You wanna repeat that? I don’t think I heard you correctly” He challenges, you knew this was your one and only chance to take back what you said but you felt a little rebellious considering he was all but sucking face with Ye-na; so instead you chuckle “Don’t worry babe, you’ll always be my favorite” using another one of his infamous lines. You can see why he always antagonizes you when you berate him for never knowing when to draw the line; because the panicked look on his face and possessive grip he holds on to you has you ready to risk it all.

“I better be your only” He growls as he shoves your faces closer together finally closing the space between your lips. You moan at the contact; his hand releases your chin wrapping itself around your waist pulling you deeper into his form. His teeth nibbling at your bottom lip “only me, baby” he whines against your lips “Hyun, you know I only want you” you reassure between kisses. You whine as he pulls himself away and releases his grip on your hair. A look of confusion falls on your face as you turn to look at him. A squeak is released from your throat as his arms encase your waist. His lips attack your neck leaving a wet trail along his path to your sweet spot. You whimper against him as your hands find their way under his shirt, roaming along his muscular torso. You feel a shock run down your spine and into your core as he sucked roughly on the sensitive skin leaving a large purplish red mark, as his fingers dance along the waistband of your leggings. “All mine...” he groans in your ear, the roughness in his voice making you almost cum in your panties. You nod in excitement at his words as his hand plunges into your waistband. Not wasting anytime, he quickly enters your panties his fingers teasing your slit.

You jump at the feeling, a whimper forcing its way out. “Can he make your pretty pussy this wet?” He questions as he rubs circles into the bud. You shake your head in response; He brings his fingers to a halt. You practically cry “D-daddy, please...” you beg grasping at the waistband of his joggers. “Use your words, baby” He teases “Can your little dance partner make your pussy as wet as daddy does?” You bite your lip as he begins his motions again “N-No” you moan. Hyunjin brings his lips centimeters from yours; your lips brushing ever so slightly as he continued his toying with your sensitive clit.

“No what?”

“He doesn’t even get me wet at all daddy”

Hyunjin gives you a faux pout “Aww baby, that’s cause even this tight little pussy knows who owns it” you nod in response, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he plunges two digits into your hole. His lips connect with yours as he roughly begins pumping his fingers into your core hitting the familiar bundle of nerves deliciously. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip before groaning and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips as his tongue dominates your mouth. Your hand palming him over his joggers, “Yeah you're doing so good, you only want to be good for me, huh baby?” His voice is rough, lips swollen as he presses his forehead against yours; his hips buck into your hand. “Y-yes daddy” you whimper “no one but you” His lips press against yours hungrily, his fingers thrusting mercilessly; you nibble on his bottom lip as your hands roam over his body. Your mouth hangs open as a familiar knot builds in your stomach. “I-I'm gonna---” your words are cut off as Hyunjin’s pace speeds up bringing you over the edge. “Fuck cum for me” He groans as his lips attack your throat. “Only daddy could make you feel this good baby, fuck... you got my cock so fucking hard” You can only respond with a moan, your fingers run through his hair pulling him deeper into you. Your legs are shaking as you come down from your high. He pulls his hand out of your pants lifting his fingers to your mouth. You connect your eyes as you bring his fingers into your mouth, his mouth hangs open at the action; pupils blown out.

“You look so pretty when you act like a little slut for me, baby” He coos

Your cheeks heat up at the praises, unable to hide your smile you bury your face in his neck. You hear a chuckle rumble through his chest, his arms tighten around your waist pressing you against him. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet under his gaze, you pull back from him. His eyes are hooded, lust clouding over them. His tongue traces over his bottom lip, before connecting them with yours once more. A gasp is released from your throat as your back is pressed against the wall, his hand running down your thigh lifting your leg at the knee pressing you even deeper against him. Your hips buck at the contact of his clothed member “Are you gonna be a good girl and let daddy fuck you?” he groans against your lips. You nod enthusiastically, “pl-please daddy, I'll be so good for you” your hands run over his chest and along his abdomen as you pressed small kisses against his neck earning a moan from Hyunjin. The sound has you enthusiastically sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Your heart swelled with pride as you observed the mark you had left on his neck, your eyes trailing over him only to be greeted with a fucked-out expression on his face. Letting his forehead fall against yours, your noses brushing ever so slightly “Fuck baby....” He whispers against your lips “as much I'd love to fuck your mouth right now I need to be inside you” His hand quickly forces your leggings down around your ankles taking your panties with them before freeing his own member from its confines.

Your mouth waters at the sight, his hand wrapped around his shaft as his painfully red tip leaked precum. Before you knew it your chest was once again pressed against the cool wall. Hyunjin’s large hand cups your ass before giving it a loud, painful smack.

“Fuck...” you groan. Throwing your head back in pleasure as Hyunjin’s cock glided up and down on your folds teasing your clit.

“Please...” you whine

“Please what baby?”

“Please fuck me Daddy”

You feel Hyunjin’s hips thrust forward at your words, before pulling away slightly. “Fuck” He growls your head whipping around to see him searching his bag and wallet a frustrated scowl on his face. “What is it?” you question removing your pants as he throws his bag to the ground “I don’t have a condom” Oh. A disappointed pout forms on your lips, you bite your lip before nervously suggesting “I mean.... I am on birth control” your eyes roam over the room before landing on him. His expression turning from frustrated, to confused before his mouth hangs open in realization. “Are you sure?” He can't even begin to try to hide his enthusiasm. “I-I mean unless you don’t want to” your voice is small, your eyes not meeting his “s-sorry I shouldn’t have suggested it” you apologize. “Come here” he calls as he sits against the sofa in the corner. You hesitantly make your way over standing in front of him shyly. His hand takes a hold of yours pulling you into his lap, so you straddle his hips. His hand caresses your cheek, “Do you want me to fuck you raw baby?” You try to hide your face in his neck as his hands trail over your thighs. He brushes his nose with yours “No, look at me” Your eyes connect as you nod biting your bottom lip grinding your bare pussy against his shaft. Weak whimpers leave your throat as he connects your lips.

“Fuck I can't get enough of you baby” He moans pressing your hips tighter against him increasing the friction on your clit. His tip continuously teases at your hole. Your hand sliding between your bodies holding his member in place before gliding him inside you slowly. Your eyes fall on Hyunjin, his mouth hung open as his head fell back against the sofa. “F-fuck...” his hands hold you in place “Don't. Don’t move yet” he struggled to get out. His heart raced as he stared at you behind hooded eyes, your cheeks a bright red. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as his cock twitched inside you. He fights the need to cum embarrassingly fast. He had just gotten inside you and he felt like he would explode already. He struggles not to thrust mercilessly into you as you press your chest against his. His lips following yours until they meet his hands guiding you up and down on his member. Hyunjin could have sworn he’d seen stars. For the many times he’s had sex, he’s never even thought to go raw but during the course of your relationship he couldn’t help but imagine the scenario every single time he was inside you. He wondered what it would be like to paint your walls with his cum. You’d always taken him so well; he gets lost in the sight of his cock disappearing inside your tight little pussy. “Look at you baby” He moans “I bet your dance partner would love to be me right now” your pussy clenches at his words.

He hated how jealous he had gotten, but how fucking dare that guy? You were his. He fought the urge to fuck up into you harshly to remind you of who you belonged to; him. “Fuck daddy you stretch my pussy out so well” you moan. He holds back a smile at the almost pornographic noises coming out of your mouth. He could never get over this feeling, he loved every moment he had a chance to spend ruining the innocence your beautiful face portrays. He loved the look on your face as you came around him. And him only. He craved your body every time he was away from you wanting to bury himself deep inside your womb and remain there. He lost his will to hold back as your lips attacked his neck once again; an action he used to detest but now he found himself praying for you to leave your mark on him. Claim him for the rest of the world to see. “You’re doing so well” He praises as his hips find a steady rhythm into your g spot. “You make daddy feel so good, baby” a feral growl is released from his chest as you come undone with a moan of his name. His resolve completely breaks as he feels the familiar knot forming in his stomach. “It's like you were fucking made for me” he laments “All mine baby fuck I'm gonna cum deep inside your little pussy” his arms hold you against him tightly his eyes rolling to the back of his head “P-Please daddy cum deep inside my pussy” you whine in his ear “own my pussy with your cum” His vision blurs as his hips stutter against yours “FUCK! I'm gonna fucking breed you baby. The whole fucking world will know who you belong to then” You connect your lips as the contents of his orgasm fill you.

He held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. His hands guide your arms around his neck before returning to your hips. He was in deep, he knew it. Though he would NEVER let you know, he absolutely loved the way you held him as you kissed him. He hated the butterflies that filled his stomach when he’d pull away and see the reddening of your cheeks. Seeing your dance partner blatantly flirting with you all morning and you unknowingly flirting back drove him mad. His friends noticing his jealousy when they saw that guy way to close to you this morning, Hyunjin quickly became ready to risk it all the moment he saw the guy whispering something in your ear; only stopped by Jisung’s grip on his wrist holding him in place. The straw that broke the camel's back was the blush on your cheeks when he called you cute. It was bad enough for you to be partnered with the guy, but he was the only person you were allowed to look like that for. And for it to happen in front of him, he felt his blood boil and his heart clench. The possibility of you walking away from him and never looking at him like that again had his body acting before his mind could catch up to what was happening. He needed to know you still belonged to him. That the introduction of this new guy and his past mistakes wouldn’t have you looking elsewhere. He hated that he knew he didn’t deserve you, but he was selfish and couldn’t let you go. Not when this was starting to mean absolutely everything, and he would die before he lost it. “Tell me you love me” He pleads against your lips.

“I love you” ______________________________________________________________

“Can’t I just drop the class?” Karina suggests.

You give her a knowing look “I don’t know. Are you a dance major?” you question. She places her head in her hands “Out of anyone in the class, I get paired with the one guy I didn’t want to be paired with. Who did I piss off in my past life?” Yeji shrugs as she scrolls through her phone “I think you guys make a cute couple” you snicker at her words as you check your phone.

‘NO NEW MESSAGES’

You sigh in disappointment as Karina picks up a piece of bread off her tray and tosses at Yeji hitting her forehead. “Not even close to funny” Karina growls. You cross your legs a slight hiss releases from your throat at the soreness between your legs. Your chin rests on your palm “Why do you act like you hate him so much?” you question “you still in love with him or something?” Karina’s eyes widen as she quickly looks around quickly “Yah! Do you wanna die?” a faux offended scoff is released from your throat as you launch yourself from your seat dashing around the table and straddling Karina’s lap. “You’d never do that baby” you state as you wrap your arms around her neck “You love me too much” you pucker your lips leaning in pretending to kiss her; her hands coming between your bodies as she groans “Stooooooppp” A pout forming on her lips. You smile at her as and pepper kisses all over her face, smacking your hand over her mouth and kissing the back of your hand. “You’re so annoying” She whines. “I’d be less annoying if you’d just accept my love” you argue.

“Fuck” you hear from behind you “Kiss her again” Whipping your head around seeing Jisung and Changbin standing there eyes wide in amusement. Quickly shuffling off of Karina’s lap you make your way back to your seat. “Did you put a tracker on me or something?” Karina growled at the innocently deceiving boy. “Nope! Just your lucky day I guess babe” He smirks. You and Yeji share knowing glances and snicker to yourselves. “Aren't you guys one short?” Changbin asks disappointedly. “Lia had some sociology lecture or something” You reply placing your hand on his forearm as you notice his sadness. He nods dejectedly.

You felt for Changbin, despite his two friend's actions, he was the tamest of the three. Sure, he slept around as well but he was more for friends with benefits rather than one-night stands. You had noticed his lingering stares at Lia earlier last year; yet you never once mentioned it as to not embarrass the shy boy. But Changbin knew you knew his feelings for your friend. It remained an unspoken secret between the both of you. “Aren't you guys missing someone too?” Yeji questioned as she looked at you, your eyes flashing to her in contempt. She shrugs in response. The last thing you wanted was to acknowledge Hyunjin’s absence; mainly because you felt exceptionally awkward due to his request earlier due to him leaving abruptly leaving a few minutes after but also because you were afraid of the answer. “I guess he had to.... talk about something with his dance partner. He said he’d meet us here though” Changbin states as he sits a little further down the bench from you. Your heart sinks into your stomach at his words. You hate how your heartbreaks at the slight suggestion of Hyunjin and Ye-na being alone. You wanted to trust him; he’s never actually cheated on you....as far as you knew. But how could you know anything? You rarely spent any real time with him and if you did it always turned into sex within minutes.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand resting on your shoulder. Almost jumping out of your seat, your head turns to scold the culprit. Instead, you let out an annoyed sigh groaning before you rest your head on your arms on the table at the sight of your dance partner and his annoyingly stupidly perfect smile. “Do you need something, Yongbok?” He places his leg over the bench straddling it, his gaze locked on you. “I prefer Felix” He corrects. “I prefer being left alone yet here we are” you shrug your eyes focusing on your shoes. “Anyway” He shrugs off “Kinda hard to do considering were dance partners” you shrug in response. “But after you...ehm...left. We got a project basic hip-hop, so I'll be needing your number” Your head lifts at that not expecting him to be so close, your noses brush and you pull your head back.

“Why?” You question; your eyebrows scrunch together. “So, we can figure out a good schedule for rehersals. I hope you arent one those dancers” He states matter of factly. “One of what dancers?” you egg on. A smug smirk sits on his face “Oh, you know one of those that gives the bare minimum and relys on others to get by” you roll your eyes at his accusation, your hand quickly jostles his hair. “Yongbokie~” You coo “Just tell me you want my number” you tease. “Stop calling me that” He whines an adorable pout form on his lips. “Yongbokie~, Yongbokie~, Yongbokie~” your teasing pauses as you feel eyes on you. Looking around the table you notice Jisung and Changbin sharing worried looks; only to act obviously suspicious as they look around.

“Im not kidding!” He groans. You ruffle his hair once more before grabbing his phone from his hand; holding the screen to his face to unlock it you text yourself from his phone. He nods slightly as he lifts himself from the seat you grabbed his sleeve pulling him back down. “Dont text me first I'd rather not deal with you anymore than I have to” He places his hand over his chest “You’re a heartbreaker, Helmet” shaking your head in response as he gets up and walks away. You feel all eyes burning holes into your face, your cheeks heat up as a confused expression grows on your face “What?” they shake their heads, Karina’s eyebrow raises as her arms cross over her chest “nothing....” you nod at her.

“So whens the wedding?”

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful the rest of your classes went by without a hitch. Unfortunately for you, you were alone in the rest of them. Your stomach filled with dread everytime you’d pass Hyunjin in the hall with Ye-na stuck to his side. Smiles plastered on their lips; standing way to close for comfort. As you allowed your legs to trudge the way toward your moms convience store you find your mind wandering farther than it should have. You felt stupid honestly; why did you allow your relationship to be what it was? Why had you entered it in the first place? Apart from sex, as far as you knew, you were no different from Ye-na, Minji, Yerim, Garam and all of the other girls Hyunjin decided to pass the time with. His flirty comments and lingering touches happened to all of you. You grew tired of things not being 100% clear, because despite the odd way he had acted today; you still couldn’t tell if he genuinely cared for you or if you were something to pass the time with when he was bored. You hoped he could notice you were pulling away, since typically, you’d be trying to cling yourself to Hyunjin as you walked to work. Instead, the idea of being around him made you feel exceptionally nauseous. So, you abandoned your plan to walk to work with your 3 best friends and began your journey solo.

The day felt overwhelming in every sense of the word. You felt your throat constrict against itself as tears welled up in your eyes. Your breath shaky as a ding rings through the air. Pulling your phone out of your hoodie pocket, staring at the notification on the screen.

You shake your head not wanting to deal with this at this very moment

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you stare at his message. You can't help but feel confused; he’s never blatantly told you he wanted to see you and honestly it makes you nervous. You decide to just ignore his messages not wanting to get even more overwhelmed by him. You sigh as you push the door open to your mother's store. “Welcome to- Oh Y/N!” your mom exclaims her eyebrows scrunched together as her eyes flash to the clock. “Early for once I see” You give her a sad smile with a soft nod of your head as you walk into the back room. Dropping your bag on the empty chair behind the desk and grabbing one of the red and blue mesh vests and cash drawer. Making your way to the register, gently placing your hand on your mother's arm. “Eomma, why are you here? Wasn’t Chanyeol supposed to open?” a scowl grows on her face at the mention of your brother's name. “Aish, that boy. He didn’t even come home last night” opening the register and taking the cash drawer out. “I had to open late because I didn’t know he didn’t come home until I came down to get some things and we were closed still” she growls as she places your cash drawer in and assigning it to you.

“You should have called me. Or Karina. One of us would have come in you know” you scold “You know youre not supposed to manage the store alone” you look at her worriedly. “Im the mother here” she soothes you, her hand running over your hair. “Besides I’m not having you miss your classes, you can worry about my health when youre actually a doctor” You froze at her words, guilt crashing into your intestines like a tsunami. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to your mother about your choice to pursue dance like your older brother but, the last time you brought up the idea of majoring in dance she—it didn’t go well. Apparently, there are no stable jobs in dance. It's not a good career path in her eyes due to your brother's failure and subsequent alcoholism. Even so, you still majored in dance and told your mother you were pursuing medicine as she had asked. How were you eventually going to break the news to her? You werent sure but you knew this was your life and you were going to live it how you deemed fit. You do love your mother, of course you loved your mother, which is why you continuously picked up the slack for your older brother; picking up shifts if you learned she would be working alone, walking her home and staying with her until morning so she didn’t have to walk home late by herself.

Ever since your older brother had returned from his failed endeavor to be an idol, you found yourself taking on a lot of the burdens for both of them. Your brother struggled with the fact that he could not make it as an idol as your mother's health deteriorates. You could only sit by and do your best to help them during their own struggles so much to the point they don’t notice yours. You were greatful to Karina for being the one other person to understand the massive change in your family as she had been there since long before your father died when you were 14. She had witnessed your struggle to cope with the loss of your father, then your subsequent depression pulling you out before you got too deep. You had been together through boyfriends and fights, rumors and friendships. She engrained herself in your family practically as a member in her own right. So much so, that at 16 when your mother had gotten her diagnosis of Susac’s Syndrome, she began working at the store with you. Karina was the only reason you could cope with everything. Which is why you were so greatful when your mother informed you that she had called her to work with you since your mother now will be going home instead of closing with you.

“The truck is coming by the way” your mother informs “Make sure you guys get most of it put away please” she pleads as she walks into the back room. You roll your eyes at her quick escape.

“Of course,”

______________________________________________________________

“Have a nice day” you call as the stranger smiles waving on their way out. Walking to one of the coolers you grab a soda before going back behind the register, pulling your phone out you scroll through instagram. The sound of the door’s beep has you shoving your phone in your pocket. Your eyes flash to the door only to see Karina making her way over to you. A smile on her lips, your eyes look at the time. “Sure. Be all smiley and shit it's not like youre 30 minutes late or anything” you scold her as Yeji enters through the door fully engaged in a conversation with Changbin. Jisung and Hyunjin followed them shortly after. Your eyes widen as you grab Karina’s forearm pulling her infront of the storage room.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You ask behind gritted teeth. An innocent pout sits on Karina’s face as she shrugs “They’re with Yeji” You roll your eyes at her “fucking Yeji...” you mumble. “I don’t get the problem” she states confused, grabbing a vest. “I didn’t really want to deal with all of this today...” you groan as you follow her back to the front. You notice Yeji scanning through the aisles engaged in conversation with Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin just talking in the corner eyes flashing to Yeji and Changbin every once and a while. “Did you already assign yourself a drawer?” Karina asks. You nod in response “Honestly, you don’t have to stay the full time.” You suggest as Yeji and Changbin place their items on the counter. “I only really need help putting the truck away then you should be good to leave if you want” You mention as you begin scanning the items, noticing Jisung and Hyunjin making their way over to you. “And what? Leave you to close by yourself?” Karina quips crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, youre absolutely crazy to think you should be here by yourself so late” Yeji interjects. “Why would you be closing alone anyway?” A worried look grows on her features as she reaches over the counter grasping your forearm “what happened to your mom?”

“What do you think could have happened?”You quip. “Fucking Chanyeol...” you growl more to yourself than to anyone else. Your brother's name was all it took for Yeji’s worries to subside. You notice Changbin standing with a confused expression “Chanyeol...???” Yeji releases a sigh as you input a discount for her. “Her brother....” she answers, leaving the words to hang in the air. “Dont put that burden on me!” you groan “We just so happen to have crawled out of the same hole”

“And grew up together, pursued the same major, lived in the same house, have the same parents. Ecetera ecetera” Karina teases. You glare at her before turning back to Yeji. “Anyway, can you just run by my mom's place and make sure shes okay. I don’t know if Chanyeol has finally come back or not, and I really don’t need her to be alone right now” You beg. She gives you a small smile in return “Of course, I havent seen mom in a while. It'd be nice to check on her, maybe your brother will be there” she winks. You and Karina gag to yourselves and shudder. “Ew” Karina groans in disgust. “We need to find you someone suitable for you cause holy crap gross its Chanyeol” Karina argues as you tell Yeji the price. Your eyes flash to the street noticing a truck driving down the alley to the store. “Can you bitch and take money please; the truck is here” you sneer. You groan before walking infront of the counter and making your way toward the storage room and heading out the back door.

You smile at your delivery driver and cousin, Hong Jisoo, “Y/N?!” He smiles wrapping his arms around you. You let out a squeak as you’re lifted into his lean frame. “Oppa! Let me down!” you whine as you playfully shove at him. His lips upturning into a bright smile. “I havent seen you in like forever. Feels like youre avoiding me” He jokes as your feet touch the ground once more. You roll your eyes at him “Cause youre my most annoying cousin” you playfully shove him snatching the clipboard out of his hands. “Yah! I come out of my way to bring you things and this is how I get treated” He jests. “Oh, boo hoo how dare you have to do your job” you prod. “Im making an after-hours delivery, Y/N” he retorts. You scoff at his nerve “A late one at that” signing for the delivery before handing it back to him.“BUT, since you love me youre going to help me unload the truck?” You bring your hands together in a pleasing motion, your eyes big.

“Why can't you guys do it?”

“Karina is the only other person working”

“Your mom still lets her work the register after what happened last time?” He questions in shock. “You can fuck all the way off, Joshua” you hear Karina snap from behind you. A smug smirk grows on your cousins' lips. “You know? I havent spent any time with my favorite cousin in a while I think I'll stick around for a bit” He suggests, his eyes falling on Karina. Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Play nice you two...” You warn giving them a threatening look before opening the door to the truck. Lifting yourself inside you grab a large crate of sodas, placing it down on the ground near the door you take a step down. Placing your hands on each side of the crate, you lift it and carry it inside only to see Yeji and the boys still standing there. “Damn, took you long enough” Yeji quips. Placing the crate infront of the freezer, you let out a whine “Joshua and Karina are going to drive me crazy” You pout. Placing your head on her shoulder “Never mind what I said stay and make sure they don’t make me commit an actual murder” you plead. She shakes her head at you.

“Would it be wrong for me to leave them alone?” You question.

“Yes.”

“But Karina—would burn down the store if she was left with Joshua” she cut you off. You roll your eyes in response. You nod in agreement. “Sorry hun, I can run to your moms and stuff, but I have to meet with Wooyoung at the studio at 5.” She apologizes petting your hair softly. A pout forms on your lips as you turn at the boys pleadingly, bringing your hands together “you guys wanna become my favorite people in the entire world” Changbin looks away from you at your request scratching his neck before pretending to look at a newspaper. Jisung sits with his hands in his pockets looking at the ceiling rocking back and forth on his heels. Your eyes finally turn to your boyfriend. A look of shock fills his expression “I should already be one of your favorite people!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You’re slowly losing that title....” you grumble as you walk back toward the crate you had put down. You feel a hand wrap around your waist pulling you back into Hyunjin’s frame. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you, babe” He whispers in your ear, his voice borderline seductive.

“Go be gross somewhere else!” Karina exclaims, as she comes into the store a large box in her hands. You roll your eyes at her as you go to pull yourself from Hyunjin’s arms only to have his arms tighten around your waist. “Hyun...” you trail, his lips cutting your words off as he connects them with yours. Your eyes widen at his sudden PDA, you couldn’t help but melt into him as his tongue runs over your bottom lip. Your cheeks heat up as he pulls away, before releasing his hold on you and turning to Karina “Gross enough for you? I can make it worse if youd like” he states with a wink before turning back toward you, his hand caresses your cheek before brushing a stray hair out of your face. “I have practice as well tonight babe......” he states apologetically. You nod in response “It's fine” You smile at his use of the pet name, He gives you a worried look “Honestly I usually do it by myself, I have Karina and—OW!!” Your words are cut off by a loud bang and a scream from Joshua in the back. You and Karina dash out the door toward the backroom, a trail of footsteps follow behind you. Karina reaching outside first you notice her immediately almost fall in a fit of laughter. “Whats goin—oh crap what the hell happened?!” you bellow.

Youre greeted with Joshua sat on the ground, a milk crate all over the backroom and himself. Gallons of milk litered the ground, milk all over the ground, boxes and Joshua. “i may have made a little bit of a mess” Joshua states guiltily. “This is unreal!” Jisung laughed hysterically. Your fingers sat on the bridge of your nose. “So, I don’t have Joshua, Jisung I will literally pay you” you beg, you see him placing his chin between his finger and his thumb, thinking “How do you know I don’t have rehersal?” You stare daggers at him “Because your partner will be here dumbass! putting this truck away......forget it” You roll your eyes, turning back to Joshua “Get up, clean this, and just....” you clench your fists “put milk on a delivery for tomorrow.” You feel large hands on your shoulders, Hyunjin’s colonge fills your nostrils. His hands run down your arms, “Come here” he gestures to the front. You take a deep breath as you follow him through the door and outside. “I'll come back” he states, your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. You shake your head at his offer “It's fine, you really don’t have to I’ll be fine as long as Joshua just stays behind the register.” His eyebrows scrunch together “He’s staying?” you nod casually “Yeah, he’s helping me put the truck away I havent seen him in a while”

“I-I can cancel” Hyunjin blurts, you shake your head in response. “Hyun, it’s fine I literally can just put the truck away with Karina and make Joshua work the register I should have known better than to have his scrawny ass help me unload it” His hands wrap around your arms as he locks eyes with yours “I want to help babe I can cancel” his voice is soft. “Dont. Hyunnie its fine really you don’t have to.” You brush your hair out of your face. “I usually do it alone anyway im just never here to unload it my brother usually does it” The sound of Hyunjin’s ringtone sounds through the air, he pulls it out of his pocket. Your heartbreaks at the contact's name, Ye-na's name sat with the red faced emoji. He quickly locks the screen, shoving his phone back in his pocket. You stare at the ground “I should get back” you state hastily pulling yourself away from him opening the door. You feel a hand around your wrist

“Babe--Have a good practice” you cut him off forcing your wrist from your hand and make your way back inside.

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful for Karina, even though you now owed Jisung $100, you had finally finished getting the truck put away. Jisung having left as soon as it was unloaded as per his agreement with Karina. Your mother had sent you a text about Yeji visiting her, which you had appreciated tremendously. You had sent Karina and Joshua home at close, which was over an hour ago. Opting to do the closing procedures and cleaning projects. Purposely ignoring your phone for the majority of your shift, not wanting to confront what you had seen on Hyunjin’s phone. You knew you had a plethora of unread messages; you didn’t understand where his now oddly attentive behavior came from and as much as you enjoyed it; you didn’t understand why now? Why when you’ve finally begun to open your eyes to how messed up your relationship did, he want to put effort? You didn’t know. You’ve finally opened your eyes to everything and youre not sure where you stand at this point. Why was her contact saved like that in his phone? Well, you know why it was saved like that, but has he used it?

You groan to yourself as you struggle to empty the mop bucket, the water splashin all over your pants as you dump it down the floor drain. “Fucking great” You grumble to yourself. Your foot slides slightly as you make your way out of the back room with a sigh. Giving the store one more passover before grabbing your things and making your way out the front door. The soft wisps of wind kiss your cheeks as you lock the door behind you. You jump as two hands circle around your waist a squeak makes its way out of your throat. Quickly whipping yourself around and pulling yourself from the person's arms. Your nervousness calms as you see Hyunjin standing there a confused expression grows on your face.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“Is your phone not working?” He questioned. A dejected look plastered on his features; his eyebrows scrunched together as his plush lips drew into a pout. Hyunjin felt confused, why hadnt you answered his messages? You always answer him; you’ve never gone longer than 30 minutes without responding. were you actually mad about Ye-na calling him? Did that Joshua guy keep you occupied to the point you forgot about him? Who was that Joshua guy? Hyunjin couldn’t help the tightness in his chest, he had to explain he couldn’t just let things linger he knew that. He tried to explain that he just forgot he had her number let alone had her saved like THAT. But you had left so quickly, as you pulled away from him Hyunjin felt like his heart was going with you. He needed you to know there was nothing with Ye-na. It’s the whole reason he came here, but as he stared at you his mind was drawing a blank. He didn’t know how to approach the topic, let alone how to explain but he knew he needed to. He’s hoping you’ll just forget about it. He’s hoping him showing up and trying to fix this fucking mess that hes turned your relationship into would fix this.

He’s worried you're going to wake up one day and realize you didn’t deserve this. That you were so much better than to deal with his bullshit and leave him. His heart clenched at the thought, he couldn’t let that happen. Fuck he wouldn’t be able to handle that, he loves you. He only began considering the notion recently but today reinforced the insecurities Jisung had drunkenly planted in his head a couple weeks ago at some party. He had been talking to some music production major who he hadnt bothered to learn the name of before Jisung drunkenly stumbled against his shoulder casually whispering Karina and Yeji were also in attendance and had seen him. It was the first time since you guys had gotten together that he felt an overwhelming sense of panic. He had only been in a conversation, honestly pretty casual but the girl was making her interest pretty known and had been a little closer to Hyunjin than he would have liked but he was used to those types of things. Ever since he had hit puberty women had flocked to him and made suggestive gestures. He enjoyed the attention and the lack of effort it took to get them into bed without having to commit to something, it felt amazing. He was happy with casual sex with no feelings on his part. Of course, there were the select few that wanted more than he wanted to give them, and he’d successfully curb the whole drama aspect before it started.

Being with you was different, for some reason you were the only girl that didn’t get her hopes up the first time. You had avoided him, ignored his flirty remarks, and never gave him the time of day for a while afterward. Hyunjin had to convince Jisung and Changbin to ‘casually’ stumble upon your group of friends at break so he could see you. Only completely lucking out when Jisung had taken an interest in your best friend Karina and he could use Jisungs interest as a way to see you, but after the first couple of times you had disappeared, and he had to start all over again in his pursuit to get close to you. He’d never wanted someones attention so bad, sure he had still flirted here or there but after being with you he wanted to only be with you time and time again. So, when he had found his opportunity to get you alone, he immediately took it. He needed to be with you in some way, he couldn’t get over how perfectly your body had fit into his, how your nonchalant attitude about everything and your acting like it never even happened only made him want to scream in the middle of the quad that it did. That you had given yourself to him and in turn took a part of him with you. That you were different, and he wanted no one but you so why werent you giving him the time of day? Why didn’t you want him? Everyone wanted him, why not you? Why not the one person he wants? So, when you finally had given in to his advances, he knew he had to do whatever he could to keep you around. It started off (in his mind) as casual sex to him, a quick way to get off and have a good time but then almost immediately after he found himself getting annoyed with both Jisung’s and your former dance partner, Lee Minho’s, flirty comments to you. He quickly realized for the first time he wanted more. He was over the moon when you agreed to be his girlfriend, but for some reason he found himself keeping things at a distance. Like if held on too tight things would break, he didn’t realize he hadnt held on tight enough until that night at the party. When, Jisung started slurring about how your friends were definitely going to tell you that theyd seen him with some girl and that him and her looked like they’d probably hook up tonight; Jisung practically cheered that Hyunjin would probably be single again and they could have all the fun they wanted. Hyunjin felt bile rise to his throat as tears burned his eyes at the idea. You wouldn’t leave him.............right? Jisung looked worriedly at him, “Wait, are you okay?” Hyunjin took a harsh gulp of his drink his eyes drifting back to the cup. “She-she wouldn’t break up with me...” he mumbles sadly. Hyunjin had ended the night on Jisungs couch with tears streaming down his face at the idea of you leaving him and he couldn’t understand why.

He couldn’t understand the tightness in his chest and the need to call and beg you not to break up with him. He’s never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but for some reason he can't help but feel like he had to this time. He needed you to know nothing happened that your friends misunderstood. That you were the only person he cared about that he loved you. He wanted to tell you so badly that he realized it that night, deciding only to say it if you were to mention the party but you didn’t. You never broke up with him and he never had to reveal himself to you like that.

Having Ye-na call him and to have you pull away like you did, brought him back to that night. He didn’t even want to leave when you had gone inside, he wanted to call Ye-na and cancel. You needed his help and he wanted to help you so why werent you taking it? Why did he never even know about this place? He’d walk past it so often with Jisung and Changbin on his way to and from his dorm. How had he not known that not only do you work here but it's your mother's store? Of course, he knew little tidbits about your mother's condition and your brother's situation. But why did he not know about this? He didn’t even know you had a job, honestly, he’d never even thought about it in the grand scheme of things. How long has your mother had this store? Had you always worked after you left him when you guys walked together? Did you always close this late and have to walk by yourself? The idea made anxiety raise in his chest. You wouldn’t have walked alone......right? Youd have at least called him, he tells himself. “Were you going to walk home by yourself?” he questioned worriedly. You nod a confused look grows on your features “why wouldn’t I?”

“it's late, you could get hurt what do you mean why wouldn’t you?” His voice is full of worry. “Hyun, I do it all the time nothings ever happened im literally 10 minutes from my dorm” You state matter of factly, starting your journey home. “Why wouldn’t you call me? Why would you think it's okay for you to do something so dangerous?” He found himself growing more and more angry as the words came out. “Would you have even answered? It's not like you have before” you scoff as you begin speed walking as you roll your eyes at him. He has some fucking nerve.... you think to yourself. Hyunjin stood frozen in place at your words. A conflicted expression sitting on his face as his heart clenched. He didn’t realize how tired you actually were, not until now at least. Had you called him to walk you home before? Had he not been there for you when you needed him? “Babe....” he called dejectedly, noticing your retreating figure. “Wait! Talk to me” he exclaimed as he rushed to catch up with you. His hand encasing your wrist turning you to look at him. “Im sorry I didn’t mean---I don’t want----fuck im sorry okay” he apologized behind teary eyes and a shaky breath. “I-I—please just call me next time okay” you look at him worriedly, your heart broke at the sight. “Hyun are you okay?” your hand grasps his bicep. Your eyebrows scrunch together.

Fuck......he was in way deeper than he thought.

______________________________________________________________

Lee Felix is the absolute worst.

You completely regret agreeing to let him make the rehearsal schedule. He was an annoying thorn in your side everywhere else, but a complete drill sergeant in the studio. Early morning rehearsals, during break, after classes before you go to work, after work. The days you don’t even have classes you have rehearsals, due to the overly nitpicky boy. You thought you were over-prepared, until you met Felix. You did appreciate the fact you both would not be happy until the whole dance was perfect in both of your eyes. BUT the guy seemed to forget you had a social life and other priorities even though he himself has now not had a choice and worked a shift at your mothers' store with you. You hated that the longer you guys continued your crazy rehearsal schedule the less and less time you had to see Hyunjin and your friends. You had finally convinced Felix to allow at least Karina and Jisung to watch the rehearsals and give critques. He was oddly warmly welcoming to the two, yet only asked for Karina’s opinion on the dance.

“Honestly, when it gets to the bridge Felix I can see you a little off with the timing can I see you run it again like just you this time?” She states professionally completely emerged in her dancer mindset. You gave a sigh of relief before laying completely on the ground, chest heaving as you reveled in the break you had finally gotten. You noticed Jisungs eyes on you “can I help you with something, Hanji?” he sat quietly his arms crossed over his chest “Do you like this guy or something?” He asks accusingly. You sit yourself up rapidly “What the hell did you just say to me Han Jisung?” your tone is no longer friendly. A scowl sitting on your face. His expression follows yours “Do you. Like. This. Guy. Or. Something?” He repeats behind gritted teeth “Did you forget I have a boyfriend?” You growl your arms crossing over your chest.

“No. It sure seems like you did though”

“You’re fucking joking, right?!”

“So why isnt Hyunjin allowed to be here? Why is it only you two all day every day? Are you cheating on Hyunjin?” He snaps before standing up and clenches his fists. Your resolve breaks at his questions, you jump to your feet your hand quickly connecting with his cheek “ASK, FELIX! IVE BEEN ASKING FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS FOR HYUNJIN AND ALL OF YOU TO FUCKING BE HERE! AND IM NOT YOU OR HYUNJIN OR CHANGBIN THAT CAN JUST FUCK RANDOM PEOPLE AND BE OKAY WITH IT! AND YOU WANT TO SIT HERE AND DEFEND YOUR FRIEND THAT DOESNT EVEN GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT ME ENOUGH TO LITERALLY DO ANYTHING BUT FUCK ME AND LEAVE! GET OUT JISUNG! NOW!” Karina and Felix step inbetween you and the boy, Karina’s arms wrapping around your waist holding you in place so you couldn’t get another hit on Jisung. “YOU OBVIOUSLY DONT KNOW YOUR FRIEND WELL ENOUGH JISUNG! IF HE HAD A PROBLEM THEN WHY IS HE FUCKING YE-NA?! WHY ISNT HE THE ONE HERE SAYING ANYTHING? BECAUSE HE AND YOU DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP! FELIX KNOWS ABOUT HYUNJIN! HE KNOWS I WANTED MY BOYFRIEND HERE AND TO BE WITH ME FOR MONTHS! HYUNJIN IS THE REASON WHY HYUNJIN ISNT HERE CAUSE EVEN IF I ASKED HIM TO COME, HE WOULD HAVE SAID NO LIKE HE ALWAYS FUCKING HAS! SO WHY BOTHER ASKING ANYMORE?! YOURE LOOKING FOR A REASON FOR HYUNJIN TO BE SINGLE! YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU GOT IT! YOU AND YOUR FRIEND CAN LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE” you growl ripping yourself from Karina’s arms grabbing your bag and storm out the dance studio.

You notice Hyunjin and Ye-na, in conversation as they casually walk in the direction you came. Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours, a concerned look growing on his face. As you got closer to the pair, he extended his arm to try to stop you “Baby you okay whats wron--” his words are cut off by you quickly shoving his hands away and continuing on your path facing him. “Ask your best friend. And just leave me alone” you scoff as you turn away from him. “Wait, what?” he called after you “BABE!” you kept walking, ignoring his calls. Shoving your way out of the Dance building, you keep your legs moving, your eyes plastered to the ground as you walk toward the exit.

“Helmet!” You hear call from behind you, you shake your head and keep going. “Y/N! Come on you know I don’t run that fast” Felix whines. You halt your movements, tears welling in your eyes as Felix encases you in his arms. “I’m sorry......” you cry into his shirt. His hand pets your hair “what happened? Me and Karina are so confused” you shake your head not wanting to get into it “It’s nothing” He scoffs in amusement “Nothing. If it was nothing, then why did you hit Jisung like that? And why did Hyunjin come into the studio absolutely fuming and lose his shit on Jisung? what happened?” You took a deep breath, taking a seat on the stone wall behind you, before explaining the parts you understood. Why Hyunjin went into the studio and yelled at Jisung wasn’t your business nor did you have a real explanation for it. But you were greatful for Felix, though your friendship began as more of a rivalry thing you both had learned to appreciate the others insights and each other as a dancer. And after you had finally returned his helmet (after 4 days of him asking about it) you began to notice how nice and funny he actually was. You now found the nickname Helmet almost tolerable and gotten to know him over the past month. “well, Jisung is pretty rude to think you were my type, Helmet” Felix jokes nudging your shoe with his, You playfully smack his arm “Youre an ass.....but I just got so pissed because like Jisung KNOWS everything about my feelings for Hyunjin And for him to act like he has a right to ask me questions like that—tch.” you explain “and with YOU?!” you fake a gag before guilt sets in “but I didn’t have to hit him”

“You acted in the moment, and you’ll apologize later” He smiled “Can we go back and run through it one more time though? Karina telling me I was off is really getting to me?” He begs

______________________________________________________________

You felt absolutely drained. One more run through turned into 2 more hours of rehearsals. Your body ached as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “One more time," he said. I'll be on beat if we do it one more time” you sneer toward Felix, who stood in the center of the room hands on his knees as he gasped for air. “Shut. Up.” He groans between breaths. “yeah, sure Lix you think you got it cause im not sure if I'll be able to do another run through” you groan “At least im not doing no damn flips that’s for sure” you state hands on your hips. He shakes his head as he makes his way over to his bag grabbing his water bottle out. You finally checked your phone, only to see a flurry of messages from Karina and Hyunjin. Sighing to yourself you click on Hyunjin’s notifications.

Opting to ignore Hyunjin’s messages, you decide to see why Karina had blown up your phone.

You roll your eyes at her last question, of course that’s what she’d be worried about.

You respond before putting your phone back into your bag and saying your goodbyes to Felix. You were happy your dorm was a short 15-minute walk from the campus, spending majority of the day in the studio was not ideal. You couldn’t wait to take a shower and lay in bed forgetting about this whole day. You had no clue why Jisung had acted the way he did, but you still felt terrible about hitting him. You werent sure as to why he immediately assumed you were intimately involved with Felix, while he was an attractive guy, he 100% was not your type and you were definitely not his.

You felt utterly stupid, for even begging for him to even be accepted by Felix in the dance studio, you can see why Felix was so reluctant he wasn’t a dance major, so he’d focus on things that werent important. You had argued that he’d probably sit quietly on his phone, you wished you would have just accepted Felix’s offer to let Hyunjin sit in, due to his also being another top dancer in our class. You were so tired of thinking about it and just opted to not let anyone but Karina into the studio from now on. You were happy that the walk went by in no time, but you were halted as you saw Hyunjin sitting on the ground next to your door. His eyebrows scrunched together eyes not leaving his phone. You sigh as you slowly make your way over, Hyunjin noticing you as you stand in front of your door unlocking it. “So what? youre not talking to me anymore or something?” He scoffs, you can hear hurt in his voice. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now Hyunjin” you stoicly explain. Hyunjin couldn’t help the crack in heart at the use of his name. What did he do? Why were you treating him like this? Jisung couldn’t say much behind his panicked stammering so Hyunjin couldn’t understand what happened. All he could get was Jisung was sorry, and you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. When Hyunjin heard that he couldn’t hold himself back quickly grabbing a hold of Jisungs collar, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” He had lost himself; he knows that, but you had never not talked to him. You’ve never pushed him away let alone told him to leave you alone. He didn’t know what happened with Jisung and You, but he knew he needed to figure out why his whole relationship had gotten put on the line.

“Just tell me what happened!” he begs his hand grasps your arm, his free hand caressing your cheek “Babe, talk to me” you feel tears well in your eyes. Hyunjin’s arms encased around your figure his hand caressing the back of your head as you struggled to hold back tears. “Can I bring you inside?” He asks softly, you nod against him tightening your grip on his waist. He let out a sigh of relief, he stood there for a moment enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You fit so perfectly in his arms, just knowing youre accepting him again has his heart racing so wildly he knows you can hear it. And for once he doesn’t care. He just wants you to talk to him again, look at him so brightly like you always did. Just the simple act of you using his full name made him almost burst into tears. He didn’t know why you were angry with him, but he knew he wouldn’t let it last long if that was the result. Hyunjin never wanted to feel that sense of panic again. He reluctantly let you go as he entered the code to your door. You slowly trudge your way in until you finally enter your room, dropping your bag, you lay yourself down on your bed. Hyunjin slowly follows behind you before placing himself over you. His hand strokes your hair “Whats going on baby?” his voice was soft as your eyes connected. You noticed the concern sitting deep within them. You shake your head “Nothing its nothing” you sigh. He gives you a frustrated pout “Babe. It's not nothing” he eggs on “Please tell me what happened please” your arms wrap around his neck as you press your lips against his pulling him closer to you.

He responds quickly taking control pressing you deeper against the bed, you moan against his lips as his hand runs up your side. Your tongue traces over his bottom lip, he allows you entry. Your tongues battle before he gains dominance. Your fingers playing with his hair, pulling yourself closer so he can have more access to your mouth. He moans at your taste, “Fuck baby we need to stop” he pulls away slightly placing his forehead against yours. Both of your breaths are heavy “why?” you whine before placing soft kisses against his throat. “Because I need to—fuck—know what happened” he stated behind gritted teeth. You knew his resolve was breaking, you just needed a little push. With faux disappointment you sigh “Fine” before signalling for him to let you up. You stand outside the door to your private shower pulling your shirt off. “What are you doing?” He asks behind a suspicious glint in his eye as he lays himself on your bed, his hand behind his head as he kept his eyes on you. You shrug as you pull your leggings off “Felix made me spend literally all day in the studio I need to shower youre more than welcome to my bed apparently” you state sarcastically a sly smirk on your face as you enter the bathroom leaving the door cracked slightly.

Hyunjin could hear the shower running, his eyes stayed stuck to the door. He knew what you were doing, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. How could he when you were literally offering yourself up on a silver platter? He already had to force himself to stop when you kissed him, he took a moment to revel in your taste. Fuck, he was addicted to your lips. His cock twitched at the sight of you stripping for your shower. His hands were shaking as he continued to stare at the partially open door. He could just come in at any time if he wanted, yet he couldn’t tell if it was intentional. You’ve never been a tease, not with him at least. You always gave into him and his advances, but you’ve also never left the bathroom door open if you were showering. He wanted to come in so bad and feel your naked body shiver under his touch. He could feel his determination growing thinner and thinner the longer he imagined your petite figure, completely naked and from how badly you made it seem like you wanted him he knows more than just your body is wet. He knows he has to maintain his composure so he can get real answers from you, so you know this wasn’t just sex to him. That you could tell him what happened and he’ll do whatever he could in his power to fix it; but the more he thought about it, you seemed to not even care about your words to Jisung and allowed Hyunjin inside, you held onto him with tears in your eyes in the hallway, you had kissed him and not the other way around. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about what happened with Jisung, and if it doesn’t seem to be ruining your relationship anymore, maybe he shouldn’t bring it up again.

His resolve absolutely crumbles like the lost city of Troy, you exit the bathroom drying your hair, towel in your hands and not wrapped around your body. Hyunjin could no longer control the need to be inside you, to feel you submit to him and let him give you immense pleasure. He rapidly jumped from your bed and behind your naked figure. His hand immediately ripped the towel from your hands and tossed it across the room, taking the opportunity to grip your hair forcing your head back almost sitting on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he growls behind hooded eyes. You look up at him innocently, “nothing daddy” you state sweetly, his hand smacks down harshly on your ass causing you to squeak and jump at his action.

“Dont lie to me, baby” He warns in your ear. You can feel yourself practically dripping in excitement, you had to contain your smile as Hyunjin fell perfectly in your trap. You knew you’d at least be able to do some form of seduction at some point in the time he chose to be here, you just didn’t know it would just ta cke a simple shower with the door open to completely break him. You figured you were going to have to do more, but you were happy you didn’t have to work so hard for it. “I-I’m not I just took a shower daddy” you reaffirm. “It seems like you just want to be punished, I know what you’re doing” He loosens his hold on you “On the bed. All fours. Now" he demands as he forces his shirt over his head, and you quickly rush over to the bed and position yourself. You feel his hand caressing your ass before sliding down toward your entrance.

You feel his fingertips on your core, your legs shake in anticipation. “You’re fucking soaked but you weren’t doing anything?” He quips “Acting like a bitch in heat is nothing?” You stay silent, whimpering as he growls at you. You can feel his fingers teasing your slit, you push yourself back against his hand to add some pressure to your bud. “Fuck---you want daddy to fuck you huh?” He groans as he feels your juices all over his fingers. You nod excitedly, only to be met with another harsh smack of your ass. His hands grip your hair forcing your head back “Use your words babygirl” Your eyes burn with tears “D-daddy f-fuck me please” you beg.

“I'll be so good for you I promise, I need you inside me please daddy” He could feel his pants growing exceptionally tight, quickly forcing them down. “I would prep you baby but fuck it's been way too long since ive fucked you” Rubbing his tip against your slit, before gliding himself inside of you. Your head is thrown back, your mouth hangs open; a loud gasp is released from your throat. Hyunjin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling, fuck he didn’t realize how long it had been until he was finally back inside you.

“S-so fucking tight baby” He groans as he gently glides himself out before thrusting harshly back inside you immediately hitting your sweet spot. “Fuck daddy” you moan “It's so big, feel so—ngh—feel so full” your need to adjust to his size completely gone from his mind at your words as he begins rapidly attacking your core; his hand with a death grip on your hair as he forces you back on his cock. His free hand taking a hold of your waist to keep you right where he wanted you. His eyes traveling to where your bodies are connected, He throws his head back as his mouth hangs open. He almost, heavy on almost, grabbed his phone and had this moment saved in a hidden folder he kept of similar images and videos you had sent him. His pace is unrelenting as he revels in the practically pornographic noises coming from your throat. “Fuck youre doing so good baby come here” he moans as he pulls himself out of you and lays on your bed. “Come ride me baby” He looks at you, a pleading look on his face as he stroked himself.

You quickly straddled his lap; he presses his lips against yours as you ease yourself onto his length. His arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist pressing your chest against his. He whines against your lips at the snail pace you’ve chosen to go. His eyes watering with tears at the need to fuck you into oblivion. Your moans and taste only doing more to drive him deeper into insanity. He was so fucking happy you didn’t even think about a condom, the warm velvety feeling of your walls on his bare cock being the only thing he could focus on. His mouth follows after yours as you sit yourself up on his chest, your hands placing themselves on his pecks before speeding up your movements. Hyunjin could tell by how tight your pussy had gotten around him, the way your eyes rolled, and your head hung back that you were close. His hands place themselves under your thighs lifting you slightly as he pounded rapidly into your core. “FUCK--its—it's too much. D-daddy im gon-gonna---Cum for me baby. Fuck please cum around my cock baby.” His voice strained. His vision blurred as you came undone around him.

Quickly, flipping you both over; pressing you against your bed legs wrapped firmly around his waist as he chased his high “Fuck!” he exclaims “Who owns this tight little pussy?” he groans against you. “Y-you do daddy” you moan weakly. He can see you struggling to keep your eyes open at the harshness of his attack on your core. His hand wrapping around your throat “Fuck can—can I cum inside you baby?” He bites his lip, his tone is soft almost inaudible, yet you still heard him and eagerly nodded and begged for him to finish inside you. He buried his face in your neck leaving wet hungry kisses against it as he felt the familiar tightness in his stomach.

“Fuck baby im gonna fucking breed you so well” He groans against your throat. “You want that, babygirl? You want daddy to fuck a baby into you?” he can feel you tighten around him at his words. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach, your arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed your bodies closer together. You felt his fingers on your clit bringing you closer over the edge. “You take daddy’s cock so well—nghhh—fuck I-I--” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he climaxes deep inside you. Reattaching his lips to yours his hand caressing your face as he pulled himself out of you. Your legs were shaky as you stared at his figure disappearing in the bathroom only to return with a washcloth.

Hyunjin’s mind was all over as he helped clean you up. He almost told you he loved you, he mentally face palmed. That was the last way he wanted to tell you how he felt. His worries quickly fading as he sees your fucked out form, struggling to stay awake as he cleaned you both off. He watched you turn to your side back to him before laying himself back into your bed for the first time since you two had gotten together. His heartbreaks at the confused look you give him as he wraps his arms around you. You open your mouth to say something as he quickly cuts you off before you can say anything “Im staying” he states softly kissing the back of your head

“Get some sleep baby”

______________________________________________________________

To say you were anxious would be an understatement.

When you had received the email from your professor after you and Felix were able to present your routine stating you and Felix would also be in the schools showcase and representing the dance program with your outstanding choreography, you had completely rejected the idea. Not only would that put a hindrance on your mothers not knowing about you majoring in dance, but you would have to dance kinda of sexy with Felix, infront of the whole University and whoever else decided to come to the well-known showcase. BUT Felix seemed really excited about the whole thing and was happy to have been the chosen pair over Hyunjin and Ye-na. Who were also contenders for the top pair in your program, it had been months ago but apparently your first effort as partners really impressed the instructor and she had informed a friend of hers at JYPE who will now be watching the showcase.

Your heart sunk into your ass as you stared out the curtain at the large crowd. You noticed the smiles on the crowds' face as Jisung, Changbin, and surprisingly Bang Chan (who apparently is also a music production major) finish up their set. Your eyes scan the crowd, you notice Yeji, Karina, and Lia all placed in the front row eyes wide with pride and excitement. Your hands are shaky as you nip at your bottom lip, a habit only done in your nervousness, you rub your palms against your dress. You can feel Felix’s eyes on you “Do I look as nervous I feel?” You question looking at him pleadingly. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks everywhere but you. “Yongbokie~” you whine extending the pronunciation of his name with a stomp of your foot. He places his hands on your arms looking directly into your eyes “Dont worry remember im right there and weve done this so often you can do it in your sleep”

“PLEASE HELP US WELCOME LEE YONGBOK AND PARK Y/N FROM OUR DANCE PROGRAM” Your eyes widen at the introduction. “Showtime” Felix’s sings as he walks toward the other end of the stage as the music begins. You stand frozen taking deep breaths as you and Felix stare at each other from across the stage, he gives you a reassuring smile and thumbs up as you both make your way out into the public eye.

(Song- Breathless- Luke James and Jude Demorset)

Yeah Oh yeah Oh, honey Why you looking like that

Didn't I tell you I'd have you hooked By the morning you'll be coming back, oh

You both take slow fluid steps as you walk toward each other, eyes on the other until you reach him, you make a flirty smile as you place your hand across his chest on his shoulder his hand around your waist as you circle each other eyes locked. Oh, baby Why you making that face Like you didn't accept that my body would have you so out of place Oh, baby

You remove your arm from him, turning your head away as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind. As you step toward the front of the stage, with a soft lift of your leg behind you between Felix’s legs as his hands grab yours while you dip and sensually lift yourself. Honey, don't worry You are on your way to heaven Just relax (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You both pull away and begin making your way to opposite sides of the stage as the music comes to its climax. Your heart no longer shaking, as confidence fills you. Before launching yourself across the stage, toward Felix’s waiting figure. You aerial once you were near him landing perfectly infront of him, your dress flowing beautifully with the choreography.

I don't wanna hurt you I just wanna blow your mind Tonight Imma leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Felix’s arms wrap around you as you gracefully turn in his arms, your head bent back whilst your arms are in 5th position. You backbend landing into a split.

Girl I know I'm a rebel Really hope that you don't mind I just wanna leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Felix’s hands help guiding you up as he guides you back up to your feet over your head turning you both around slowly as you extend your arms a smile plastered on your face as you flip yourself over his head and back onto your feet

Baby, I don't bite

Felix’s steps are smooth and fluid as he steps toward the front of the stage his hand coming up to cover his chin and mouth as he faced you his other arm wrapping around his torso

Maybe I'm lying But I promise I'm gonna do it right, oh

on beat his head goes faces each side his arms moving gracefully as he extends his arm to the crowd before spinning and giving the audience a flirty smile and wink as he extends his hand toward you.

Honey, don't worry You are on your way to heaven Just relax (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You point your toe as you walk toward him, your arms moving with the beat before Felix grasps your hand and lifts you over his head. Slowly turning you around as your dress adds another beautiful element to the choreography. You smile at each other at the use of the dirty dancing lift. You both struggle not to laugh as he guides you back down. I don't wanna hurt you I just wanna blow your mind Tonight Imma leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh) Baby I know I'm a rebel Really hope that you don't mind I just wanna leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You spin your arms guiding your spin before you jete. Standing on one foot as you lift your leg behind you extending your arm up into an Arabesque. You drop to one knee both of your arms crossing into an X over your chest as you tuck your head. You bring your head up elegantly, as your arms extend over your head and back flip into a standing position your arms straight up. You turn into Felix’s arms, his hand wrapping itself around your waist as you place your hand on his chest, your faces inches from each other as the song comes to a close.

Your chest is heaving as you hear the roar of applause from behind you, turning to the crowd you take a hold of Felix’s hand taking a bow before pulling him off stage. A large smile playing on your lips, Felix is giddy as you guys made it off stage. You wrap your arms around his neck “That was fucking awesome!” you declare as Felix laughs in disbelief. You smack his arm as you pull away “How were you so calm? you werent nervous at all?” You question, he scoffs at your words “I WAS TERRIFIED! Theres a scout from JYP out there I was fucking terrified, you couldn’t tell?” he exclaims. Your eyes widen in disbelief “NO! FELIX!” He shrugs as he lifts his hand to point behind you. You turn your head in the direction he was pointing in only to see Karina, Yeji, Lia and your mother and brother running up to you. Your heart sinks at the sight of your mother, you look at the ground in embarrassment. Karina is the first to reach you wrapping her arms around your neck “You were fucking amazing! Is this why Felix is such a dick about people coming to your practices” She exclaims giving a small playful glare to Felix. He rolls his eyes at her words “What the hell are you talking about I’ve invited you” he argues as she removes herself from you. “Guys---” your words are cut off by Yeji and Lia wrapping themselves around you.

“You did so good!” they exclaimed; you laugh at their insync jinx. Your eyes drift to your mother and brother standing behind them, wide proud smiles on their faces. You pull yourself away from the two. Trudging your way over to them, you look at the ground. You feel your brothers' arms wrap around you, “I-I’ve never seen you dance before” his voice is filled with tears you notice the lack of liquor smell on him, only a strong colonge. You feel tears welling in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You can hear the heartbreak in your mother's voice. “Eomma!” you cried as you wrap your arms around her “I'm sorry...I wanted to tell you! I did but you were so disappointed at the idea I didn’t want to hurt you” you cried. She shook her head as she wrapped her arms around you “you could never disappoint me, I'm sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me" She wiped your tears “You’re an amazing dancer, you remind me of your father”

“Hi Im Felix” Felix exclaims excitedly extending his hand toward your brother a large bright smile on his face.

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful for the showers in the female dressing room.

After your overwhelmingly emotional moment with your family, you quickly rushed into the dressing room, undressing and quickly making your way into the warm water waiting for you. You can hear the dressing room open, the murmur of voices making their way into the vanity room. Choosing to enjoy your shower you grab your shampoo and lather it onto your hair. You hear a crash from the strangers in the next room.

“Ye-na what is going on?!” her friend exclaimed as you heard more crashes from the room. You hear a pause before you hear the familiar screech of Ye-na's voice “I just don’t get Hyunjin, I thought we were like going somewhere but apparently not” she snapped. Your ears perk up at the sound of your boyfriends name. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “what do you mean?” her friend inquires. “I mean he had no problem sleeping with me at the party the night before we started classes and now all of a sudden I don’t fucking exist!!” your heart breaks at her words. He slept with her.....tears well up in your eyes. He slept with her the same night he slept with you. You scoff in disbelief.

“Wait doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” her friend questions. You press yourself against the shower wall, waiting in anticipation. Your heart pounded against your chest, your hands shaky. Your shower long over but you were frozen in place under the rapid cascade of the water. “He said they werent anything serious” You could hear the smirk on her lips. Nothing serious? You heard the door close. Turning the water off, you slowly make your way out of the shower. Grabbing onto the towel you allow the tears to fall. You feel your body trembling as you hold the towel against your chest, leaning against the doorframe. Nothing serious..... that’s what you were to Hyunjin. Nothing serious. Pulling your phone out you see new messages from Felix, your tears cascading down your face. Quickly responding to him you pull your long sleeve skin tight shirt and black sweats on.

You hear a soft knock on the door. Wiping your cheeks you crack the door slightly, only to be met with a set of soft concerned eyes staring back at you. Once his eyes landed on your sobbing form, he wraps his arms around you pulling you into his chest. You sobbed against him as he cooed in your ear. “what happened? You were just so happy what changed?” He questions. Sniffling as you pull back you explain what you had overheard. You notice a change in his demeanor, his fists balled up at his side. “Youre kidding right?” He growls behind a clenched jaw. You shake your head as you grab your bag “Can you please just bring me home?” you plead. He runs his hand through his hair. “Arent you going to talk to him?” He inquires. Shaking your head rapidly “Not....Not now” You state dejectedly “Not today”

“Honey, theres no day but today.”

“Ill do it another day Lix forreal I cant handle anymore right now”

He shakes his head “No. Youre doing it today. Theres literally no day you should even do it but today. You don’t think hes going to figure out youre avoiding him?”

*PING*

Your phone sounds. Seeing his contact name pop up you open his message.

Quickly, locking your phone without responding you turn your attention back to Felix. “Can you bring me home? Yes or No? Cause if not I have to leave now while I still havent seen him”

*PING*

Rolling your eyes at his nerve to be annoyed. “Felix~!” you beg as your phone goes off once more. Irritation filling you at his words. “Fine, BUT you owe me” Felix groans pulling your attention away from your phone for a second. “nice to know your profiting off of my misery some friend you are....” You groan as you finally respond to Hyunjin.

You smile to yourself at your petty use of the nickname you called Felix that Hyunjin absolutely hated. Feeling quite proud of yourself as your phone goes off with countless messages now being ignored. Walking with Felix out of the auditorium and into the parking lot you see his familiar black and red motorcycle. You hesitate at the thought of actually getting on it. Felix grabs his spare helmet and holds it out to you. Grabbing a hold of the item you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and turn you around. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you force your hand out of the persons grip. Your heart cracks once more as you come face to face with Hyunjin, an irritated scowl on his features. “Is there something you want?” You growl.

“Yeah why the fuck are you going home with Felix?” He snaps back. “Woah, okay dude relax she just asked me for a ride home” Felix quips from behind you. You can see the fire in Hyunjin’s eyes “Are you my fucking girlfriend?!” he spits. Felix chuckles to himself “She wont be your girlfriend for long....” he mutters under his breath as he rolls his eyes. “Y/Nie~, ill wait over there for you just let me know when your ready to go” Felix states calmly as he wraps one arm around your shoulder giving you a small side hug before ruffling your hair and walking over to the bench by the entrance.

You nod softly before looking at the ground. “What the hell is your problem?!” you snap, you notice the confusion on Hyunjin’s face. You’ve never really truly yelled at him before so to say he was shocked would be an understatement; but his shock was soon replaced with anger as he growls “MY PROBLEM?!” you nod before shoving him back slightly “Yeah! Your problem. Why are you such a dick to Felix? Hes been nothing but a good friend to me, and you always act like such an ass to him for literally no reason”

“Why cant you see he wants to be with you?!”

“WHY DOES IT MATTER?!” You snarl “Its not like we’re anything serious right?”

You cant help but feel guilty as you see hurt flash across Hyunjins face “We’re- we arent anything serious?” His voice is laced with pain. “Why would—why would you say something like that?” you notice tears in his eyes his voice growing shaky. “Its what you told Ye-na right?” You stare at him, tears filling your eyes as you remember why you wanted Felix to bring you home. “what?......” His voice is so small its almost inaudible “w-where did you hear that?”

“So its true? Nice to know” you state matter of factly crossing your arms over your chest as a stray tear makes its way down your cheek.

“N-no! I didn’t--I wouldn’t---I never told that to anyone. I am serious about us” He declares in a panic as he reaches for you, you take a step back. “Babe....” He pleads. “i swear I-I never said that to Ye-na" you shake your head at him lifting your hand “And shes just so delusional that she thinks you two slept together as well right?” Sarcasm drips off your tone like venom. His face drops his mouth hanging open to say something before closing it again unable to find the words. You scoff at his hesitance “So you did. You slept with her?” He steps close to you once again you step back.

“not recently......”

“Please just—just delete my number” Your hurt obvious in the way your voice cracks, Hyunjin’s tears begin to fall “What?” His voice is shaky “N-no. Why?” you shake your head in disbelief “Because you cheated on me Hyunjin are you stupid or something?”

“No I didn’t I swear! Baby I never cheated on you, me and ye-na was a long time ago before us please belie-believe me” His hand finally is able to wrap around your wrist pulling you into him burying his face in your neck. You shake your head as you attempt force your way out of his arms “Let. Me. Go.” You growl. Hyunjin shakes his head as his arms wrap around you tighter “No! No I cant” he cries “I cant youre going to leave” you continue your fight as you feel your shirt growing wet, Hyunjin’s form now trembling. “please! I cant lose you please.....I would never---I could never cheat on you please don’t go please just listen to me” He sobbed. You look over to Felix signalling him to come back and start his motorcycle. You shake your head “I cant. I cant do this anymore Hyunjin”

“NO! Stop please im Hyunnie, your Hyunnie. Please, please I don’t know what else to do babe I didn’t cheat on you. Im serious about us im so fucking serious about us please believe that! I cant lose you, not like this, not because of her I swear nothing happened with her in so fucking long. I’ve only been with you. I only want you please at least let me prove that” He pleads as you hear the roar of Felix’s engine. Finally pulling yourself away from his arms, you take one final look at Hyunjin’s face. He still looked absolutely perfect, even as he cried. Your heart raced as you felt his lips press against yours. Your resolve almost crumbles as his lips moved against yours, the taste of his tears mixing with your own. Pulling away he presses his forehead against yours his hands on either side of your face. “Im sorry, I just cant trust you.” you cry, he shakes his head “please don’t do this, I love you please” he pleads, youre heart breaks at his confession. Taking a step back. “let’s........break up” you declare softly as you hop on the back of Felix’s bike and tap him signalling for him to drive away.

Ignoring the flurry of calls and text messages now flooding your phone you allow the tears to fall completely and whole heartedly, you sob into Felix’s back.

#hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz hyunjin #skz felix

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honourablejester · 2 years

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Watching the Sandman Calliope story, and maybe this is just everyone’s brains being different, but why the fuck do you need inspiration for ideas? Ideas are a dime a dozen! Read two books and watch a nature documentary and there’s at least 15 ideas in there. I just … If we’re talking a premise, a one sentence concept, ‘in the year 5000 there are werewolves on Mars’ or what have you, they are limitless. You don’t need a Greek goddess for that, just go for a walk and read some fiction that weekend.

I can see needing a muse for motivation. For the skill and energy and time and will to turn that premise into an actual story, to make the words flow and the phrases turn good. But the premise, the idea? Do you live in a box? Go outside for a while and read some other stories.

Like, is this just me being weird? Am I blessed by a good relationship to the muses and just think that’s standard? But everything Madoc says in that second presentation, when Dream’s already inflicted inspiration on him, that’s bang on. Ideas are everywhere. Stories are everywhere. Now, taking them and turning them into a printable manuscript that you could then actually show to people, that’s a different, hah, story, but if you just need stories to tell yourself at night to get yourself over the hump into sleep, or daydreams, or a premise to get you started …

I honestly have no idea how someone could run out? Writer’s block, I get, but that’s not having no stories to me, it’s having all my stories feel clumsy or irritating, or just no motivation to put any of them on paper/screen. Like, are my ideas good? Maybe not. But there sure are a lot of them.

I don’t know, maybe this is just my brain, but holy god Richard Madoc seems pathetic to me. I mean, he’s definitely supposed to be pathetic, but like even more so. You can’t even come up with an opening premise? Why do you want to be a writer if you have no stories to tell?

Not that there’d be any good reason to keep a Muse captive, and we’re not going to go into everything else that shows him for an absolute scumbag here. But just taking what he said, that he needs ideas. If it had been the motivation/fluency/translation-into-format problem, I’d at least sympathise a little bit. He still should have just hired a ghost writer like a normal person and just dropped his blurb/outline off with them, but at least he’d have done some of the work. But just. ‘I need her. If I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t be able to write, I wouldn’t have ideas.’ I am one with Dream’s face when those words came out of his mouth. An idea is the basic unit of storytelling. You can’t even reach step one?

I don’t know why this makes me so irrationally angry. But you can pick up ideas on a street corner. Just steal them like a normal hack! Ask 10 people in coffee shops what type of books they’d like to read and shake the results until a basic plot falls out. Read 10 short stories, pick your favourite elements of each of them, and throw them in a blender. Find an online concept generator, there’s loads of them!

And I get it, not every idea you come across is going to be one that you yourself can work with. But I’m just … If you can’t even come up with that much, did you make any effort at all?

And honestly. Saying this to the Lord of Dreams. The personification of the global subconscious. The personification of storytelling. No wonder Dream just downloaded an avalanche of concept fragments into his brain until he went mad. You want ideas? There are 20 million of them. Pick one and let us all get on with our lives, you pathetic sack of shit.

Wow. I’m just. Richard Madoc makes me angry? On a moral level, yes, absolutely, but also just on put some fucking effort in level. An idea? Just read. For fuck’s sake.

Sorry. I have a screaming headache today, and this man just annoys me. The amount of harm caused for the most pathetic reason. I cannot.

#sandman #calliope #richard madoc #writing #rant #sorry i know it could just be me #but that's not even the actual hard part!#just take a year off and read/watch some stuff #omg

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literary-illuminati · 11 months

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Book Review 14 - The Best of Nancy Kress, by Nancy Kress

Okay, continuing to work through my backlog on these! And learning the perils of letting it build for a month because my memories of most of the stories in this are already getting a bit vague and scattered.

So, getting the basic details out of the way – my first short story collection of the year, 600 pages of the works of Nancy Kress, curated and selected by the author herself as all her favourites that would fit in one volume. Someone on here (can’t remember who and tumblr search is being its usual unusuable self, unfortunately) recommended Beggars In Spain to me a while back, and this was the only volume my library system had that included it. So, 500-ish pages of other stories as a nice bonus until I got to the end and remembered that that’s the reason I’d gotten the book out in the first place.

The stories run from less than ten pages to a novella, and Kress includes a little half-page afterward following each. Usually either a reflection on the meaning of the story or an anecdote about its writing or reception, and then where and when it was originally published and any awards it won. And there were a lot of awards You can get a lot of short stories nominated for Hugos over 45 years of writing. The little snapshots of a, like, SF/F writer subculture and the relationships therein were all charming, anyway.

The stories themselves were of pretty wildly varying subject matter, though all science fiction of one kind or another. Everything from post-apocalyptic ruins to spaceships studying the galactic core to the drama and intrigue of gene-modding among high class ballerinas twenty minutes from now. The quality varied – it would pretty much have to, for like two dozen stories written across a span of decades – but overall it was really quite good.

Tone was rather more consistent. Some were happier than others, of course, but even the most fantastical and high concept worlds were pretty grimy and compromised and full of petty politics and pettier assholes. Capital H Heroes were pretty thin on the ground, even (especially) among the various protagonists. Kress seems to have a rare love for women who aren’t just, like, spiky, but genuinely flawed and unpleasant to be around (easier to pull off with short stories than novels, I suppose).

Short stories are great for just putting people in situations generally, really – not sure how long you could really draw out ‘feeling awkward and shitty because the guy you’re having an affair with was on a ‘business trip’ to visit you when aliens abducted and/or killed everyone in the city his wife and kids were in. He absolutely blames you for this,’ but it’s sure a hook!

Familial relationships that are, lets go with troubled, are a whole other recurring theme, too. Sororicidal sisters, deadbeat dads, obsessive ex-wives, parents putting their children through experimental gene-therapy to make sure they grow up with the ideal body to vicariously live out their dreams, the whole set. There’s even some dubiously consensual clone incest at one point!

Though honestly the lack of capital-h Heroes goes beyond just morality – thinking about it, most of the short stories are told from the perspective of observers, survivors, sufferers of exotic diseases, journalists poking at a mess from the outside. People whose world is being acted upon by forces far beyond their control, if not beyond their understanding entirely, and either bearing witness or struggling to adapt and get by. The stories where the protagonists had real agency – the scientists exploring the galaxy’s core, the time-travellers taking an alternate Anne Boleyn hostage to prevent the English Civil Wars – are usually the tragedies. There are a lot of those – or, if not tragedies, then at least stories that end badly for almost everyone involved. I’m halfway convinced that short stories are just a more appealing format for properly bleak fiction, really – less investment in characters’ wellbeing, or narrative expectations pushing towards growth or happy endings.

And now, before I focus on discussing Beggars In Spain specifically, some call outs for the short stories that really stuck in my head

The aforementioned gene-moding scandals in New York ballet, partially told through the perspective of the engineered-to-be-as-smart-as-a-5-year-old bespoke guard dog contracted to protect a start ballerina. Nicely understated cyberpunk setting and also felt extremely realistic as the sort of thing we’ll absolutely be having scandals about in fifty years tbh.

A woman discovering that the aliens are here amid the ruins of postwar Earth because they started getting our television broadcasts and decided that the only thing we had worth taking was dogs, but are stuck here until they figure out how to train them to be as good and heroic as they are in the movies.

A disenchanted and nostalgic man in the 80s finding a specific cupboard that goes back to one specific day in 1935 (I think. Pre-war but Roosevelt administration). He uses this exclusively to make his social security cheque go further and buy little presents for his friend with what in the 80s is pocket change. The actual plot involves despairing over how cynical and bleak-minded his granddaughter the artist is, and deciding to go back and a Good Man to introduce her to.

An extremely short one – just a one-scene vignette, really – about a waitress in a vaguely ‘50s diner when one of the aliens whose been in the news so much escapes their minders and wants to try an apple pie.

(There were also, I must admit, a decent number of stories that left me cold or that I just didn’t see the point of including, but, again, pretty much inevitable in any big collection, isn’t it?)

But okay, so! Beggars in Spain! It’s definitely an interesting novella, and given the fact that it’s 30 years old and was by all accounts incredibly successful I do kind of wonder how many common tropes about the whole super-intelligent designer babies conceit I’ve encountered elsewhere first are downstream of it?

Because I mean, ostensibly it’s about children modified in utero to not need to sleep, but practically that cashes out to them all being creative productive polyglot geniuses. Which is certainly the fantasy of never having to sleep with zero downsides, though honestly I’m pretty sure I’d spend at least half the extra time fucking around online. That said, the sense of alienation the protagonist has dealing with a world where almost everyone around her seems to just be wasting a third of their lives laying down is really well done.

It’s the sort of novella that you could probably write a dozen a dozen different essays about, and would probably benefit from being analyzed with less than a month’s distance and quotes on hand, but for all the futurism (and really not the best story in the collection for that, honestly), the thematic throughline that stood out to me is actually just libertarianism? Or not quite the right word, probably, though it is our heroine’s ideology (she is, after all, the favoured daughter of a self-made magnate, amid a social circle of the golden children of the striving upper-middle class). But the specific idea of enlightened selfishness, that the contract is the basis of all society, that no one owes anyone anything, and you are only worth what you can produce to offer up in exchange to others.

It’s where the title comes from, after all – the eponymous beggars with nothing to offer except their need who are entirely superfluous and inconvenient to the lives of the Sleepless ubermensch; what are they owed? The orthodox answer of the movement basically every major character at least ostensibly ascribes to is ‘nothing’.

Not that any of them actually act like individuals interacting solely through mutually beneficial contracts, which I’m fairly sure is in fact the point – the Sleepless invent nationalism before any of them turn thirty, going to great effort to support and look after each other on the basis of Sleepless-solidarity and an assumption that each of them is the future of humanity. And on the other hand, the protagonist’s father is a domineering, overbearing ass of a partner, draining both of his wives’ personality and will to live in turn until they get tired of being bitter social secretaries for him and quit. Equitable, contractual relationships are thin on the ground – and of course the entire climax is the protagonist relying on friends and an estranged sister to rescue an abused child who surely isn’t likely to pay any of them back for the effort anytime soon.

I thought the hypocrisy was neatly done, anyway. Especially since it’s never really confronted – none of the Sleepless ever show the slightest awareness that the lengths they’ll go to for the sake of each other purely on the basis of their shared enhancements seem to contradict the ideology they treat as holy writ.

Overall not exactly my favourite book of the year, but a fair bit better than a lot of what I’ve read so far. So I’ll call it a win. Just for the time capsule effect of reading stories written by the same author across four decades, if nothing else.

#book review #Nancy Kress #the Best of Nancy Kress #sff #short stories

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elamimax · 1 year

Text

I wrote a short story set in a specific universe. For context:

Humanity has been conquered by a largely benevolent precursor species that took one look at the galaxy and went “alright, you kids can’t take care of yourselves. You’re getting drugs and therapy,” and subsequently set out to put everyone’s toys on the top shelf until they could be trusted to play nice. They’re called the Affini. It’s generally a kink setting that includes a lot of petplay, consent play, and similar triggers that are associated with a setting named after a first entry called “the Human Domestication Guide.”

None of that is all that relevant to this, though. None of those triggers, other than forced therapy and healthcare. I’m using the setting as a way to explore what “curing” my mental health issues might do for me or to me. If someone “fixed” me, where would that leave me? For that reason, expect a bit of internalised ableism, or at least explorations thereof. Idk. I have thoughts farting around in my brain and I’m making it everyone else’s problem.

———————————

“Sometimes I mourn her. The artist I almost was. Or used to be, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to be an artist. Not just a writer but an author. I wrote a bestseller, back when that still meant something.”

“Oh?”

“I was… fifteen? Something like that. I wrote about pain and sadness but with more eloquence and gravitas than most people my age did. It was a chart-topper for a bit and it meant that for a decade, people paid attention to what I wrote, which meant I could write more and, maybe more importantly to me at the time, it meant I could live off of it.”

“But then the Affini arrived.”

“Then the Affini arrived. Exactly. Money became meaningless, so ‘bestsellers’ stopped existing altogether. Can’t have a bestseller if you’re not selling them. But it was more than that. God, it’s what, fifty, sixty years ago now? Jesus, I’m old. Anyway. For a few decades I actually just kept writing. Didn’t have to worry about food or anything anymore, so I just wrote for the hell of it. I think those might be some of the best years of my life.”

“What changed?”

“I did. Or rather, I didn’t. And that was a problem. I have… a chemical imbalance. Or I had, I guess. It makes regulating emotions almost impossible. Every feeling is the most feeling I have ever felt in my life. It used to be. I wasn’t scared, I was existentially terrified; I wasn’t happy, I was ecstatic; I wasn’t sad, I was distraught, etcetera. And that wasn’t going to last.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know how hard that is? When I fell in love, I abandoned everything for that person. Family, home, whatever. I have cheated so many times because whoever I loved, I loved more than anyone I had ever loved before. And I’m not even going to entertain the notion of justifying that. Anyway, it meant that I’d broken my life to pieces a dozen times over. But the Affini were actually remarkably willing to let me do my thing. The town I was from had surrendered peacefully, and I had too. I had no issues with our leafy overlords.”

“But they took issue with your lifestyle.”

“You could say that. When you have a brain like mine, sometimes you need it to shut the fuck up. It all gets too much. Pills. Alcohol. Weed. Whatever you can get your hands on. Except the Affini only allow you to go so far. You can’t hurt yourself, you see. So the first time I got so drunk I was ready to pass out in the street, they were on me in less than a minute, I think. Flushed the alcohol from my system. They were very worried. Two more times and I was put under permanent supervision. An Affini had taken me under her wing to make sure I didn’t ‘seek more self-destructive behavior’. That’s when they did a proper scan and found the imbalance.”

“Did that fix it?”

“Yeah, it did. I wasn’t scared or angry or sad all the time anymore. It was great. Right up until I tried to write anything.”

“It didn’t work anymore?”

“It didn’t work anymore. Oh, I wrote a few more books — writing is a craft as much as it is an art form. Words are just words — but I didn’t have the power to move people anymore. You know, I think that… When we read a story, we expect things to be slightly larger than life. A monster has to be the scariest monster ever put to paper because otherwise we can’t imagine it. The page dilutes the emotion so you have to lay it on thick.”

“And you were good at that.”

“I was really fucking good at that. I wrote a love story so heartbreaking people sent me death threats. Best thing I ever put to paper. Anyway. When that imbalance was fixed, I couldn’t write about that anymore. I felt things so strongly that, when I put them to paper, they resonated with people. But after that, all I could write was rote fluff.”

“So you couldn’t write grand works anymore?”

“It’s not even that. Like… I had no reason to write anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Why do we write? Why do we tell stories? Sure, you can say something about mythology and passing on knowledge and all of that, but there’s more to it than that, right? Anyway, when the monetary incentive disappeared, I kept writing. I never did it for the money, and anyone who says that all fame is awful is fucking lying to you. But that’s not why I did it. I wrote because if I didn’t, my head would fucking explode. My head was full and projectile vomiting the stories and emotions in my head onto the page was how I dealt with that. When the feelings became ‘normal’, the well of word vomit dried up.”

“So what did you do?”

“What any self-respecting artist whose entire identity revolves around suffering would do: I tried to kill myself.”

“Which failed.”

“Obviously. More xenodrugs. More therapy. God, so much therapy. And it was good and necessary, don’t get me wrong. Being alive is a lot better than being dead. I learned to value my life, that there is more to life than achievement and creating Good Art or whatever that means. You can have a meaningful life just being happy.”

“But you’re not?”

“No, I am. I’m more consistently happy now than I’ve ever been before in my life. But even the happiest person in the world will mourn the loss of a loved one, and I think I do still love the person I used to be. I mourn her, anyway. She could have written something great.”

“And you can’t?”

“Not really, no. Even if I could write with the memory of how I used to feel things, I kind of can’t. I wrote because I had to. When I hadn’t written in a while my hands itched and my eyes burned. The whole world was… have you ever seen the air above a hot stove? Like that. Without that drive… what’s the point?”

“For others to read the story, no?”

“You don’t understand. We live under the yoke of a civilization so grandiose and successful it spans entire galaxies. There are trillions of sapient beings that coexist under the Compact. What story could I possibly tell that has not already been told better?”

“Wasn’t that true before, too?”

“Sure, but back then I didn’t care! I have no story I have to tell, no way to tell it if I did, and no reason to tell any at all. Sometimes I do resent them for that.”

“The Affini?”

“Yes. It’s why I tried to end it. They took away what had felt like my purpose, because it was self-destructive. I am happier now and that, I think, counts as a win for them. I have no desire to end my life, which is mostly fulfilling and content. That I resent them for not letting me choose to be miserable is almost part of their entire ethos: that us humans, if given the choice, will choose to be miserable so often that we can’t be trusted with the choice to begin with.”

“Do you think that’s true?”

“I do. But I wonder sometimes if it matters. I wonder sometimes how many great works of art the universe has lost to the Affini. I understand that they desire to reduce pain. To reduce harm. To make the universe a happier, healthier place. But I wonder. How ethical is it really to take away the pain from someone who isn’t done with it yet? What if my unhappiness was something I needed to feel complete, whatever the fuck that means?”

“Did you try telling them that?”

“I did. I was put into more therapy. More drugs, until I figured it out and they were absolutely sure I wasn’t going to have another go at my wrists again. I took up baking. It’s very satisfying. I made a baguette the other day. It was pretty good.”

“You’re not satisfied.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding me. I am satisfied. There is nothing that I could want for that I don’t have access to. Food. Adventure. Fiction. Love. Sex. Art. Hobbies. Attention. If I could choose now, I don’t think I’d go back. But if past me were to meet current me, I think she’d try to kill me and then herself for how hollow she would think my existence. I don’t have a use for ambition and drive anymore, but she did. I think she’d be very upset at how comfortable I’ve gotten not doing much of anything.”

“But she was unhappy.”

“Deeply. Sometimes. She was also very happy sometimes. She wasn’t a monolith. She was just very extreme. When file the tip off of a pencil, they become a lot more difficult to properly write with.”

“You feel like a filed down pencil.”

“Yes. But at least I won’t hurt others or myself anymore. I’m happy. Comfortable. I just wonder. And I mourn. The universe is happier with the Affini in it, but I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t less beautiful for it.”

“You’d rather people be in pain?”

“That’s an unpleasant way of looking at it.”

“You make it sound like hurting someone is good because it could make them a better artist.”

“I’m saying that the universe wasn’t a happy place before the Affini were in it, and now that they are, it’s like everything is different. A sunrise feels so much better after a cold night. Food tastes better when you’ve been hungry. Soft beds feel better after a long, hard day. I’m not saying every day should be hard or that every night should be cold or that people should go hungry. Just that warm and soft and full used to mean something and I feel like they don’t. Not anymore. Not really.”

“Adversity breeds… happiness?”

“We appreciate the good more if we have the bad for contrast. We’ve raised the baseline and cut off the deviations. I worry sometimes that that’s what the Affini are too busy doing. Equalizing a sine wave. Was I disabled? Most definitely. I was fucking broken, much as my therapist hates that word. I was a shell of a person when they brought me in. But not every broken thing needs to be fixed, and I don’t think all of them understand that.”

“So what would you do if you could go back?”

“I’d write something, I think.”

“And if you couldn’t go back, but you got it back? Your muse?”

“There was no muse.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What would I do if I had my pain back?”

“Yes.”

“I think I’d still write. I think I’d fall back into old self-harming patterns and keep it a secret. Try to be better about hiding from them.”

“What if you didn’t have to hide?”

“If you’re broken? Around Affini? You hide or you get fixed. You don’t really get a say in it. Affini hate broken things. Or maybe they love broken things because they can fix them. I feel like I used to be able to read them, but I can’t anymore. Like I’m too healthy to understand them, nowadays. I don’t know why they do what they do, but they do it. Protect you from yourself, at all costs. Yeah, hiding would be the only option. The only real option, anyway. I’d hide.”

“But what if you didn’t? How would you feel?”

“That sounds self-destructive. That sounds like I’d be dead of alcohol poisoning, drug use, suicide or one of a million other things in a few years.”

“You’re evading the question. That’s not how you feel.”

“I think… I think I’d be angry. Vindictive. I think I’d want to hurt one of them.”

“Why?”

“Because they never asked that question.”

#mental disorder #mental health #mental illness #art #writing #my art #mentally ill #human domestication guide #hdg

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galactic-pirates · 16 days

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1, 14, 27, 29 for the writers ask:)

Thank you for the ask!! ❤️

1) Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

I would absolutely LOVE to be able to write as soon as I get the idea. Back in the day I did sometimes do that and it was free, and fun, and so exhilarating until I ended up with half a dozen WIPs and felt so stressed about it all.

Honestly most of my ideas live on a list for years before they get written - if they ever do. It’s something that depresses me if I think about it, how so many ideas will never be realised because the ideas never stop. It would take me years - a decade or more - even writing solidly to write everything on my list now. To be honest because of this outside when I first get the burst of the idea, I try not to daydream about it too much. I can’t work on everything, all at once, and I don’t want to forget anything and then get that nagging feeling that I had a better idea if I ever do get round to working on it.

14) What is your favorite location and position to write in?

At my desk, on the PC. For my original novels I’ve been planning in Plottr (and have that open on one side) and drafting in NovelPad (open on the other side). I need that reference. I am so unbelievably spoiled having an UltraWide monitor (and before that I had dual screens) that I don’t function well without. I have attempted to write on the iPad and I get frustrated and give up if it’s anything more than a simple oneshot with little/no planning. If I can’t have it open in one window, then it’s a PC job.

27) What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Revision analysis I think 😛 and yes I do know that’s not probably what the question meant. It’s by far my favourite part of the writing process (planning is second). I feel like I’m quite good at spotting where it needs improvement and then brainstorming how to fix it. I adore that rush when the brain goes like lightning and it all just clicks together. The execution (drafting) as always is infinitely harder. Very much “how do words work” as big picture - plot, character background/arc, theme etc. I am fairly confident but the actual description, making it all happen part, not so much.

To tie back a bit into question 1, this year I decided to reboot a series I first started writing November 2015. I hadn’t written in that world since late 2016/early 2017. I have complete drafts of the first 2 books, and half of book three. Anyway in January I tore into it and replotted Book One, reworked characters, went deeper into the world building etc. I kept the main plot points of the book but where before logic was lacking, I hopefully made it make sense. I then dove into redrafting it (finished end of March) and I’m taking a breath before I analyse it again to see how I did this time.

The thing with revision is it’s a learning practice. I read a lot of craft books but when I’m writing it’s impossible to hold all that information in my head. But when I’m looking at something that exists (aka not a blank page) I can see more clearly. At least I hope I can.

Besides I have been told that this makes me an “editing unicorn” as it’s apparently weird to like the revision part of writing haha.

29) What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

Hmm the way the question is phrased that doesn’t sound like “name a story, or name a scene, or a line” etc. it sounds like it wants a skill like the above question. But the thing is I feel very much like I am a work in progress myself with my skills. I don’t feel good enough yet, I hope one day I will, but that day is not today.

But! To go back to what I said about the execution being infinitely harder - I like my ideas. I mean I guess I should they are mine haha, but they are ideas I want to see in the world. I write what I want to read I guess (just dammit why do I have to write it? Haha) but yeah I think I am proud of my ideas. Nothing is new under the sun so I am sure they aren’t revolutionary but they mean something to me.

I’m a firm believer in the power of fiction. I feel like attitudes can be normalised. That if we see a lot of hate that hate becomes normal and more people hate. But vice versa if we imagine a better world, if we see diversity in all its infinite amazing combinations on screen/in books, that can become normal, and prejudice will become less prevalent and there might be less hate. I don’t know maybe that’s naive but it’s what I believe. But yeah I guess I am proud that maybe one day my work can play a small part in that.

#I answer things #Sam talks writing

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arialerendeair · 2 years

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Ask Game

When a writing deity named @moorishflower tags you in an ask game and your brain is having a weird day that’s preventing you from writing, what can you do but answer?

Rules: List five things you never get tired of writing. It can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people!

Happily Ever After: Unless explicitly stated, I will always write Happily Ever After. There’s not enough HEA in the real world, and while I absolutely understand the need to write other things for sake of catharsis, or preference, or whatever reason exists for those authors, I will never be one of them. There’s a line, in the 1995 movie ‘A Little Princess’ - where the main character says, “I couldn’t bear to see Charlotte marry that awful man, so I imagined a different ending.” It was the first time I knew you could write different endings, even to the same story. I’ve never stopped since. For me, in my stories, the characters deserve a happy ending, so I will imagine them one if I have to.

Ways to turn Alec Lightwood Immortal: This was a running joke that became a thing, and has since exploded into one of the things I am most well-known for in the Malec fandom. As a sucker for Happily Ever After - of course Alec needs to be Immortal like his husband. After writing about 20 such stories, I started keeping a list of all the ‘ways’ I’d made Alec immortal so I could keep making up new ones. The list is over 60 ways long with 58 works, and about 20 ideas left to write, and counting - and I still have more I intend to write.

Some fun ones from the list for those that want it:

Granted by Death

Pagan Ritual

Angelic Armor

Shooting Star’s Gift

Edom Descends

Dragon’s Blood

The Moonswind Flower (WHICH HAS ART)

True Love’s Kiss

Dirty Talking/Panty Kink/Frottage: My top 3 in terms of kinks. Interchangeable with which one I like most (though frot usually wins), but inevitably, if one appears in a fic, at least one other will as well. They go together rather perfectly, and I never get tired of writing them, no matter what characters are involved. There is something always very tantalizing about them - and I am a big, big fan of reminding everyone that sex does not need to be penetrative to be mind-meltingly fucking hot. (Especially when written by an Asexual person like myself!)

Oberon Onyx/Qinemru: Oh my darlings. I have my fair share of recurring background characters for my stories - ones I like seeing pop up, just as reminders to myself that I am fleshing out a world that isn’t always in the creator’s world. Oberon, and Qinemru, however, have become entities in their own right, and have a book series that is in process of being written about them. Oberon was a character modeled, not after myself, but after myself in a similar fashion, and Qinemru, they are a mirror of everything I am not, and yet what I wish to be. They’re also sassy, stupidly protective of each other, Oberon flirts with anything that moves, and Qinemru learns to laugh properly around Oberon. I love them as one loves characters they create that grow like weeds until they are a garden in their own right. They have stories I have to tell, dozens of them, and oh... I can’t wait. I want to watch them fall in love over and over and over again, and I will. And you will too, if you want to.

BAMF Characters/Battle Scenes: If you had asked me, in the summer of 2019, if I would consider BAMF characters and battle scenes one of my expertise's, I would have laughed at you and said hell no. Would have even said, at that point, that I was rather horrible at them and I would have loved to be better. I don’t know what changed, when I started writing Shadowhunters fic in August 2019. I don’t know what was different. But somewhere, early on, I decided that, dammit, I was going to be good at this... and then I was. Now, they’re some of my favorite scenes to write, and in my opinion, some of the best scenes I’ve ever written. Dozens of battles in Hell, dozens of hand to hand combat scenes (both for sexy reasons and not), characters standing up for what they believe in, characters fighting back against friends, family, loved ones, for what they believed in... some of my inner strength I’d forgotten I had started to bleed into my characters and these became not only well-written scenes, but scenes I could not wait to write.

Tagging: @cuubism, @magnusbae, @nanaboslim, @to-the-stars-writing (world’s best co-author), and anyone else who wants to join in on the games!

#Aria Posts #Ask Games #My Writing #This was fun #Thanks for the tag!

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quotesfrommyreading · 1 year

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Beyond the roots of Hans’ radicalization, one of the longstanding mysteries surrounding the White Rose was the origin of its name. Though scholars can’t say for certain, many have good reason to believe a banned novel called The White Rose, first published in Germany in 1929, found its way into Hans’ hands. Its left-wing author, who wrote under the pseudonym B. Traven, was most likely an actor and communist revolutionary who used the stage name Ret Marut. He fled from Germany to Mexico following the collapse of the short-lived Bavarian Soviet Republic in 1919.

The reclusive Traven, who had a dozen passports with different aliases, never revealed himself to the public. He wrote at least eight novels in exile before the Nazi takeover in 1933, though only one was a resounding success: The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, which inspired the classic 1948 film by John Huston, with Humphrey Bogart as its star. Once the Nazis came to power, Traven’s radical writings were deemed so inimical that his entire oeuvre was tossed onto bonfires. Still, his novels were widely read by members of youth groups like the d.j.1.11. The White Rose may also have been known to Schmorell, Hans’ closest collaborator and a co-founder of the resistance group.

In Traven’s novel, the White Rose is the name of an idealized hacienda, or large estate, where mixed-race mestizo peasants live in harmony until a ruthlessly exploitative American oil executive arrives on the scene. The businessman orders the murder of the village’s illiterate leader, then presents the dead man’s signature on a bill of sale for the oil-rich lands. The local governor tells the villagers he will try to win back their freedom, even though he knows his efforts against the imperialist juggernaut will fail.

This story would have resonated powerfully for Hans and Schmorell as the idea of creating a group to resist the Nazis coalesced in their minds. (Hans was by no means a communist, but Schmorell was decidedly socialist in inclination.) Its rejection of racial prejudice, as well as its denouement, shared a kinship with the spirit and message of the German White Rose. As the governor tells the displaced citizens toward the end of the book:

I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to discover the truth. And I promise you that when I’ve found the truth, the White Rose won’t have been plucked for nothing. If, perhaps, it can never bloom again in all its beauty, it shall certainly not fade away, never. It shall bear fruit that will ripen. And that shall be the beginning of the liberation of the country and its citizens.

When asked about the origins of the “White Rose” name during his Gestapo interrogation on February 20, 1943, Hans offered a rambling response, adding, almost offhandedly, “It is possible that I chose the name on an emotional basis because at the time, I was under the influence of Brentano’s Spanish ballad ‘Die Rosa Blanca.’” This explanation has been widely accepted in Germany. But there are no Spanish romantic ballads by Clemens Brentano of that name.

There was, however, a decidedly romantic poem titled “La Rosa Blanca,” and it was the epigraph to the 1929 and 1931 German editions of Traven’s The White Rose, a leftist, utopian novel about deceit, exploitation and oppression:

Along the edge of the barranca, Bathed daily by the Golden Sun, Caressed by Lady Moon at night, Faithfully blooms the White Rose.

Every day at dawn, The birds sing thy praise; How thou’st bloomed since God created thee, Forever flourish, White Rose.

And though one day I too must wither, White Rose, may’st thou bloom on, And my last life’s breath Will be my farewell kiss to thee.

If, as now seems likely, Traven’s novel was a primary inspiration for the group’s name, why did Hans give the Gestapo such a vacuous explanation? Perhaps he didn’t want the secret police to know he’d been influenced by a communist author. But another intriguing explanation comes to mind. Hans may well have been trying to divert the Gestapo’s attention away from Josef Söhngen, a 47-year-old gay bookseller who secretly nurtured the White Rose by providing a meeting place, a cellar in which to hide the group’s duplicating machine when needed and an endless supply of banned books from his secret cache.

Though other members of the White Rose frequented Söhngen’s bookstore, it was only Hans who became close friends with him. Hans often would turn up outside the door to Söhngen’s apartment late at night, seeking solace through the kind of intensely intimate conversation he almost certainly could not share with others.

— Hans and Sophie Scholl Were Once Hitler Youth Leaders. Why Did They Decide to Stand Up to the Nazis?

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chinahatbeach · 1 year

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Thoughts for Today

Good Sunday morning to you. Hope your weekend is going well for ya. Mine has been productive and relaxing. I’ve made a few pot holders, did some reading, did chores, ate a nice steak, and will do the same today, except I shall eat cod. I’m in a fish mood and shall make fish for dinner.

My thoughts are a rambling. I saw an ad about Girl Scout cookies. Hmm…. I’ve missed those little gals. I don’t go to the store on the weekend and haven’t missed buying those dang Thin Mints.

I did my morning reading and saw something that made me go, yes! “We need to put feet to our faith”. Isn’t that the truth?! We can’t change anything if we do nothing. And so, here is what I read and it made me think……

In his book Draw the Circle: The 40 Day Prayer Challenge, author Mark Batterson tells an inspiring story about a group of Mississippi farmers who gathered fifty years ago to pray for rain.

When a drought threatened to destroy a season of crops, a rural church with many farmers in the congregation called for an emergency prayer meeting. Dozens of farmers showed up to pray.

Most of them wore their traditional overalls, but one of them wore waders. He got a few funny looks, just like Noah did when he was building the ark, but isn’t that faith at its finest? If we genuinely believe God is going to answer our prayer for rain, isn’t that exactly what we would wear? Why not dress for a miracle? I love the simple, childlike faith of that old, seasoned farmer.

He simply said, “I don’t want to walk home wet.” And he didn’t.

But everyone else did.

When we pray but don’t act, we may be saying that we believe in God, but we are acting like He doesn’t exist.

Batterson also writes:

“We can pray until our knees are numb, but if our praying isn’t accompanied by acting, then we won’t get anywhere. We need to put feet to our faith. After kneeling down, then we need to stand up and step out in faith.”

I read this and thought, “yup”. I have done this lately and have seen things change. The change had to happen in me, for me, and for that point, it will change others, I believe. You must do or nothing will happen. You must say the positive words and get rid of ‘stinkin thinkin and speak life into your dry bones. Don’t look at your circumstance as the end of the world. God is waiting for you to put on your waders and have faith.

I know I can worry about a hundred and one things but does that help me? I can have anxiety and what does that do to me…… it can make me ill. I need to reframe my mind and thoughts and pray. It’s that simple… pray.

“Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God” (Psalm 20:7). Jesus only asks that we put trust in Him. Faith to see the mountain moved. Faith to see the unseen things change. Faith!

Well, time for me to make breakfast and get going on my day. The chickens are at the back porch screaming at me for their breakfast. Yes, chickens do scream (or at least it sounds that way to me!)

Have a good Sunday…..

And that’s the way it is………..

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library-of-ohara · 2 years

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anon asked: So many writers gathered at one place for a short time? That is so cool 😎 😎 😎 I hope you're having fun with this. I've enjoyed the few stories so far and I can't wait to see more. Which leads me to my request. May I pls ask for how Kiku, Denjiro and Yamato would react when they are traveling with their friend and at the hotel they find out it's not a room with two beds, but a queen size bed and there aren't any other rooms aviable? Thank you 😘 💖 Oh and here are some cookies for all of you 🍪 🍪 🍪

a/n: written by Lale (@childofblackmaria) <3 i loved this request because i'm down so bad for all three of them and also because all three of them are so TALL (Yamato being the smallest with a height of 263 cm) and imagining them trying to squeeze into a regual queen size bed... i giggled. guess queen size beds in the OP world are a big bigger, at least that's what i imagined while writing. thank you for the fun request and i hope you enjoy reading!

word count: 1.1k

🤍 there was only one bed w/ Kiku, Denjiro & Yamato + gn!reader

Kiku

Kiku and you actually don’t mind the bed situation, but almost get into a fight because both of you insist that the other one takes the bed

you give in when she draws her sword (no questions were asked why she is bringing her sword on a regular road trip, you just roll with it) and threatens you to take the damn bed

her smile is sweet but her eyes definitely say murder

you flop down on the bed and pat next to you, inviting her to join you

“see? there’s actually plenty of space for both of us. the blanket seems rather small though, so if you don’t mind some cuddling at night…”

she doesn’t, moreover, she initiates it

at first you freeze when she wraps her arms around you from behind, spooning you, then you let yourself sink deeper into her hug, enjoying the comfort of her warmth

you can’t fully relax though because whenever you close your eyes, you see the face of her brother, threatening you with a gun because how dare you touch his perfect little sister

your therapist will definitely hear about this

but for now you’re happy, turning around so you can look into her beautiful eyes in the dim bedroom light

you cup her face, your thumb brushing the soft skin of her cheeks as she smiles, a smile so pretty it feels like a stake straight through your heart

wow, you really are in love huh? why else would there be so many butterflies all of sudden? why does being in her arms feel the safest you have been?

the two of you have some soft and sweet pillow talk, too giggly to fall asleep, spilling secrets in the dark

only when you run out of words, you both scoot closer and closer, subtle but enough so your lips can find each other, sweet kisses fluttering all over your face, whispered confessions in your open mouth until the morning comes and you walk hand in hand out of that fateful hotel room

Denjiro

“oh well. you can have the bed, i don’t sleep that much during the night anyway.”

which is in fact, true. he naps often and everywhere because he’s usually up all night, robbing the rich and causing arson

tonight is no exception, just a little different from his usual shenanigans

Denjiro would probably bargain with the owners of the hotel first to get you both a big discount on the room since it’s not what you booked

you can hear him going full “i want to speak the manager” on the poor staff downstairs

he’ll come back in the room with a big grin and a bag full of cold hard cash, his fox eyes looking feisty

“let’s party”

he encourages you to go wild on the room service, ordering everything your heart desires as long as you get him some sake too

you still end up in the same bed together, watching reality tv shows all night while feeding each other the most delicious stuff the room service carried in on a dozen silver tablets

cuddled up against him, you can’t help but think that maybe sharing a bed with him isn’t that bad…?

and judging from the way he holds you close, dozing off every now and then, Denjiro seems to be comfortable too

you snuggle closer against him when he pulls you into his lap, your head resting against his broad chest, his arms wrapped around you

“want to order some dessert, too?”

his voice is close to your ear, sending warm shivers down your spine

you tilt your head back to look him in the eyes, returning the wide smile as you reach for his long blue hair that’s falling over his shoulders

“i think there’s something sweet in the room already that i want to taste…”

yes you kiss <3

Yamato

you both stand in front of the queen sized bed, hands on the hips as you both shrug at each other

you’re friends, right? no big deal sharing the same bed, friends do that all the time

still, you can’t deny that your heart is skipping a few beats by the thought of it

Yamato initiates a pillow fight when he notices the slight tension and accidentally knocks you out when a pillow hits you directly in the face

quickly grabs your soul leaving your body and stuffs it right back in

when you regain your consciousness again, Yamato is leaning over you, carefully dabbing your face with a cold towel, his worried face brightening up when he sees your eyes fluttering open again

he apologizes a thousand times on his knees (poor boy sometimes forgets how strong he is) and begs for forgiveness

he even offers to sleep in the bathtub tonight to make up for it, so you can enjoy the bed all for yourself

you can’t help but giggle from the thought of Yamato trying to fit all his long limbs into the tiny tub and you can see the relief on his face when he realizes that you’re not mad at him

“i accept your apology. to make up for it, you could let me lay in your lap and run your fingers through my hair…?”

guess three seconds of feeling brave really pay off because Yamato is so fast to jump into bed with you, building a tiny fort of pillows around you both before he pats into his lap, gesturing you to lay down

if you could purr, you would right now because Yamato’s fingers make you feel things

you’re chatting about all the things you want to do on your vacation but you can’t fully concentrate on the conversation because your heart is drumming so loud in your chest, you fear it might just jump out

only when you suggest to switch positions so you can pet Yamato too, your faces are coming awfully close to each other, your hands touching, and just like that the last remaining inch between your lips is gone as you sink into a deep kiss that takes your breath away

every time people ask how you two got together, the story will start with a “and there was only one bed”

#Kikunojo #Denjiro #Yamato #one piece x reader #kikunojo x reader #denjiro x reader #yamato x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #childofblackmaria

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peachtree-dish · 3 years

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A Te Che Sei Il Mio Amore Grande

I'm writing fanfics again. Woot!

Inspired by the song of the same name.

Chapter One: Quando Ti Guardo

June 06, 1969

Luca drummed his fingers restlessly along the soft velvet of his armrest, his eyes switched from peering out at the Italian coastal terrain and once again reading the watch that rested against his wrist.

“You’re doing it again.”

His eyes snapped up to watch as Giulia sighed at him from behind the thick leather-bound novel in her hands. As her amused yet exasperated gaze landed on him, he grinned sheepishly.

“Mi dispiace, Giulia. I honestly don’t remember the ride being this long.” He checked his watch again and grimaced. “Has it really only been ten minutes?”

Admitting defeat, the red-headed girl marked her place and set the book aside. “Luca, it’s been nine months, si? But what is the one thing we’ve learned about time from Segnora Rosa?” She quirked a knowing brow at him as Luca slumped forward.

“Time is always constant, lo so.” He mumbled.

“Esattamente, therefore,” She continued as she picked up her book with renewed gusto, “the train will take exactly an hour every single time we travel to and from Porto Rosso.” With her argument settled, Giulia returned to her page and began reading once more. After a moment of stillness, she peered at him subtly from above her page. Luca was looking outside once more, his eyes filled with a mixture of yearning, and his mouth twisted in anxiety. With a kinder expression, she said, “If it’s any consolation, amico mio, I’m sure he’s just as nervous to see you.”

Luca puffed out his cheeks but didn’t reply, instead preferring to peer down at his clasped hands.

“Maybe you could finish the bracelets you’ve been working on, that will help you pass the time better and maybe keep your mind off things, eh?” She nodded to his school jacket pocket which held a mass of multicolored strings that had yet to be organized. Perking up at the thought, Luca agreed and set to work on detangling the threads from one another.

Outside the bright light of the morning sun blazed peacefully across the pristine indigo coastline and followed the two youths on the journey. Some miles away, a small town was anything but peaceful.

“Massimo!” A young man jumped up the paved stairways of Porto Rosso, disturbing the half-dozen pigeons resting there. At their indignant coos and squawks, Alberto quickly glanced back with a slight shout of “sorry!” before continuing on his rampage towards the Marcovaldo residence. Skidding to a stop once he passed the archway, he leaned heavily against the tree that he and Luca had slept in nearly a year ago prior and gasped.

With a large crash, both Massimo and Machiavelli burst through the front door looking frazzled and ready for a fight. The latter was fully puffed up with his claws digging into the cobblestone walkway and his pupils shrunken to small slits. Massimo swiveled his head around looking for whatever danger could have provoked Alberto’s shout, his shoulders hunched and his good arm gripping his harpoon tightly. However, when no danger presented itself, he glared half-heartedly through his eyebrows at the young sea monster who sheepishly grinned.

“Well, where’s the fuoco, eh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Massimo, everything’s fine. But!” He pointed animatedly at the large man, “you are aware of what day it is, right? We only have a few hours until-”

“Until Giulia and Luca arrive, si piccolo, lo so. You’ve only been talking about it for a month now.” Shouldering his harpoon and popping his neck, the old fisherman turned to enter the house, an unhappy Machiavelli climbing onto his open shoulder, but not before growling irritably at Alberto.

“Come have breakfast, Alberto, we’ll see what we can do to keep busy while we wait.” The large man patted Alberto’s sun-kissed shoulder before entering the house. Slumping in resignation, the teen followed behind Massimo but not before stretching to give one last searching look at the expansive cliffs that breached the horizon, hopeful to see a plume of smoke.

**************

When the train finally pulled into the stazione, Luca was already flinging the train door open and running into the waiting arms of his mother who squealed with delight and refused to set him down for several long moments, much to Luca’s embarrassment and secret delight. An equally excited Giulia was soon to follow, and she said a quick hello to the Paguro’s before launching into Massimo’s open arms. While his father patted him on the head and asked the generic questions of wellbeing, Luca tried to glance around his parents. If Massimo was here, then so was-

“I told you I’d be okay.” Luca’s heart thudded painfully in his chest for one moment as Alberto sauntered into view. Prying himself from his mother, the young sea monster swiftly walked to Alberto and embraced him without pause. Luca buried his face into the crook of Alberto’s neck and breathed him in for the first time in nine months.

Whatever nerves and fear Alberto had been holding released him the moment his best friend enveloped him in his arms. Luca had grown slightly taller over the colder months and his skin had lost its sun-kissed pigmentation, but the warmth in his eyes had not faded in the slightest.

“Welcome home, Luca,” Alberto mumbled into his friend's hair, ignoring the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes, he pulled away with a chuckle. “Are we going to do this every time we say ciao?” Luca smiled wetly and scrubbed weakly at his face.

“I think I could get used to it if it’s with you.” Alberto resolutely decided to ignore the heat that gathered in his cheeks as Luca turned to answer Massimo. Brushing it off as too much time in the sun, he tuned into the conversation just as the gentle fisherman began speaking of their new fishing truck.

“Grazie to Alberto’s ‘knowing fish’, we earned enough for me to invest in an auto,” Massimo stated proudly, clasping a large hand onto Alberto’s shoulder. The teen modestly scratched under his hat and shrugged, turning to Giulia and Luca.

“He’s really only saying that. Massimo did all the hard work; I just stuck my head underwater a few times every day to navigate us. But!” Alberto waved towards the station entrance and began pulling Luca by the hand. “you really have to see the truck I’ve been writing to you about.”

The truck itself was what could hardly be described as new. The front bumper was barely hanging on and rusted completely through on the right side. Green chipped paint covered the doors and Luca noted with a swell of warmth the black hand-painted logo of “Massimo and Alberto Fishing co.” Most people would consider the truck like garbage, but Alberto found the faded paint and broken glass charming, and he said as much to the group. Giulia rubbed suspiciously at the truck’s tailgate, her eyes squinting as she studied it.

“The Americans call it a ‘Hudson pickup’,” Massimo announces proudly, his pronunciation heavily accented.

“I’m still not sold on it being actually safe, but I’ll admit it wasn’t too bad the first time Massimo drove it.” Daniela opined, opening the front door with a loud squeal.

“Yeah, not so much when Alberto decided to try it,” Lorenzo muttered good-naturedly. “My tail still won’t swim straight.”

“You drove the truck?!”

“You crashed the truck?!”

Giulia and Luca exclaimed, she glanced curiously at her papa who raised his hands innocently. Luca began looking at Alberto’s arms and skin, scouring for any injuries, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation.

“He’ll be sixteen this year, mia figlia, he’ll need at least a year of practice. Nessun problema, your time will come soon.”

“Oh, come on,” Alberto kindly pulled Luca’s hands away and hopped on the rear end beaming down at his family, “it wasn’t so bad for the first time. Plus, she just needs some love and she’ll be right as rain. You guys just can’t see her potential.” He patted the chipped paint fondly. “Not to mention this makes delivery way faster.” Massimo chuckled as Lorenzo continued to grumble and Daniela merely rolled her eyes.

“Si, and speaking of quick deliveries, let’s go home and eat lunch, hm?” Massimo lifted Luca and Giulia's luggage into the bed of the truck while the rest of the family, the Paguro and Marcovaldo families together again at last.

As the truck rattled through the colorful fishing port threatening to fall apart, Giulia and Luca rattled story after story to Alberto and Luca’s parents. Alberto tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy at the way his friends appeared to be so in tune. He laughed politely at their inside jokes and did his best to understand half the jargon they spouted, but in reality, he felt more lost than ever before. Stuffing the uncomfortable feelings down as far they’d go, Alberto helped the Paguro’s down first so that Daniela could help with preparing the food alongside Massimo. While Lorenzo had shown an interest in learning the human ways of cooking, he hadn’t quite managed to pull it off as well.

“You set the curtains on fire one time, and they never let you set foot in the kitchen again,” Lorenzo complained to the kids as he followed his wife.

“Except it wasn’t just the curtains,” Alberto whispered loudly to his best friends who giggled unapologetically.

“ONE TIME!” Lorenzo called hotly from inside.

Giulia smirked at her friends, “Some things never change, amicos.” Grabbing her bag, she turned to the house, “Oh, and Luca don’t forget about your gift!” She winked knowingly at a flustered Luca and befuddled Alberto.

Alberto glanced down at Luca who was doing his best impression of a frozen fish.

“Uh, was that supposed to me-”

“I made you something!!” Luca blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth. He glanced nervously at Alberto, who merely stared back stunned. Fishing in his uniform jacket pocket, Luca wordlessly pulled out the two multicolored bracelets from his pocket and held one out to Alberto. Alberto stood frozen his eyes glued to the green and purple threads glistening in the warm afternoon sun, his mouth hung loose in a silent ‘oh’. The threads danced innocently between them, and Luca felt his bravado begin to waver. When he still hadn’t said anything or moved to take the bracelet from Luca’s grasp, the younger boy grew more flustered and started to pull away, his voice shaking. “I- I’m sorry, you probably think this is so stupid.” Luca tried to not panic, desperately willing his mortification away.

Alberto’s hand shot out to pull both the bracelet and Luca’s hand back. “I can’t believe you made this for me.” He whispered, cradling the bracelet tenderly as he studied it in his palms. He traced the twining threads and smiled at how the pattern reminded him of scales. He looked at Luca and put his arm around him to pull him close. “I love it, thank you. No one’s ever given me something so beautiful.”

“R-really?” Luca asked, his expression hopeful.

“Really. Did you make this too?” Alberto squinted at the painted pearl hanging from the end of the strings, creating a clasp to hold it in place.

“Giulia's mom actually helped me design those with her paints.” Luca motioned to the pearl. “She said that gifts help make the distances feel smaller.” He pondered the delicately painted waves of his own pearl. “It’s funny when I was learning so much and seeing so many places, I never realized how far from home I would feel.” His gaze landed on Alberto, only now realizing how close they were. Up close he could see the new freckles that peppered his cheeks and how his face was slimming down. Nine months of hard work had broadened his shoulders and caused his wiry arms to harden with lean muscle. Clearing his throat, he pulled away again.

“Anyways, I guess we better go inside before the food gets cold.” Blushing as red as Massimo’s favorite wine, Luca threw one last smile over his shoulder and ran inside. Alberto grinned in response and slid the bracelet over his wrist fastening it so that it hugged him snugly. An emotion that he couldn’t quite name filled every part of him, spreading from his toes to the tip of his ears. Walking inside to the smells of homemade pasta and loud laughter, Alberto felt that the promise of a wonderful summer had just begun.

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #alberto x luca #luca x alberto #fanfic #mutual pining #they share one brain cell #Giulia has it 99% of the time #just teens trying to figure out life #a te che sei il mio grande amore

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eureka-its-zico · 3 years

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Irrevocably Yours

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

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

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

Jungkook x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook was anything but ordinary.

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

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

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's my spot.”

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

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

“I don't see your name on it.”

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

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

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

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

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

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

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

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

“He’s in my spot.”

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

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

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

“Wow - good job doofus.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

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

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

“You're bribing me now?”

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

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

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

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

“What am I supposed to do?”

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

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

“No way. Joint custody.”

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

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

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

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

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

At least the seat was warm.

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

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

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

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

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

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

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

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

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

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

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

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so confused.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just listen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

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

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry!”

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

“Ugh...for what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

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

“You could’ve fooled me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

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

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

______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your solution? It was ingenious, really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

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

“I came to help you.”

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

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, this is embarrassing.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

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

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I was not pouting!”

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

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

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

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

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

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

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

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

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

You wanted to murder him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fu-!”

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

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

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

“You think this is funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no you don’t!”

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

“Jungkook-ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you cold?”

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

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

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked.

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

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

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

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Note

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Mabel’s Worry

Collab with @clownwry! They’ve been super sweet and very nice, and after getting inspired by this post, I decided to write a full on-fic about it... but then it spiraled out of control, so enjoy an angsty story featuring the sweater twins!

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat up quickly, breathing just as heavy as an Olympic runner. She shook her head to clear it and she hugged her knees in self-embarrassment. It was just a stupid nightmare. Vague, no real plot, but still carried the overall message, the fear, anxiety, and still made Mabel’s blood run cold and sweat sparkle on her forehead. She needed to calm down, get herself together. Milk. Warm milk.

And so she quietly got out of bed and left her shared attic bedroom for downstairs. Despite being gone for nine months, she still knew this dark home by heart. She could walk it blindfolded if needed, but the moonlight leaking in through the triangular windows helped her in her journey. That and a small light coming from the living room. Like a moth to a flame, Mabel sleepily dragged her socked feet to the room and peaked through the doorway, half of her face hidden by wood and shadow.

Grunkle Ford was sitting in the armchair, reading a book in the light of a lamp. Mabel’s spirit was lifted, relieved and happy to see him, but she was hesitant to bother him. He was happy with his book, she really shouldn’t bother him with her own stupid problems. She should probably just go get her drink and go to bed and leave him alone. But then Grunkle Ford’s instincts alerted him of a spy and he looked up and instantly smiled.

“Mabel,” His blissful facial expression dropped suddenly remembering that she went to bed a few hours ago and it wasn’t quite daylight yet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

This really wasn’t like her, for words to fail leaving her mouth, for her to be silent or non-vocal. But all Mabel could do was barely step into the light, hands behind her back, and shrug with her eyes to the floor. She was silent because she was afraid of what she would say if she dared to give herself the opportunity to talk. Ford grew more concerned, but he knew what to do; he had more practice under his belt now than he did months ago. He smiled softly at his niece, closed his book and sat it on the dino skull, and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Mabel looked up and bit her lip. The dame broke over her uncle’s kindness. With watering eyes she ran into his lap and clung onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and whimpering as tears left her eyes. Ford hugged her back tightly and petted her soft long brown hair. The girl might be thirteen, but that doesn’t mean she would stop having nightmares or no longer need comfort. Moses knows, as much as he would deny it, Ford still had nightmares and still needed reassurance. Not to mention it was well-earned after everything he and his family had been through… everything he put his family through…

Mabel was mumbling something into his maroon sweater. Ford thought it was moans, sobs, but as he listened he could actually make out words. “M’sorry… m’sorry…”

“Hey, hey.” Ford said softly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.”

“... didn’t mean t’bother you…”

“Oh,” Ford cooed as gentle as a lamb. “Oh, sweetheart, you could never bother me. Never.”

Mabel sniffed. “M’sorry.” Whether she was still sorry for bothering him or sorry for being sorry was a bit unclear, but Ford decided it didn’t matter.

“It’s alright.” Ford eased. “It’s alright, my dear.”

After a few minutes of letting Mabel cry into his chest, Ford could feel Mabel make a sharp shiver in his hold. He got a pretty good idea, and so he gently had Mabel let him go. She whimpered like a puppy denied a treat, but she watched with sparkling eyes as Ford slipped off his maroon sweater, revealing a thin long-sleeved white undershirt, and he sweetly pulled it over Mabel’s head and smiled at her. She helped him by slipping her arms into the correct holes and she grinned as she now wore Ford’s old red sweater. Nearly every day he wore a Mabel Sweater she had made for her, whether she mailed it to the Stan O’ War while they were apart, or she gave it to him in person. Only every so often did he wear his old sweater, but they were both glad he did.

Mabel allowed her head to sink deeper into the worn yarn. Her senses and lungs were drowned in Ford’s scent, which brought along happy memories and good emotions. She hugged Ford again and he happily held her, petting her hair and just being there.

A few minutes of silence passed, and Ford made a prediction that it was a good time to check on her verbally. “Feeling better? Mabel?” He looked down and Mabel was asleep, one arm still around him, one hand holding onto his undershirt. Ford chuckled warmly in his chest, slowly stood, and carried Mabel to the attic to tuck her in.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, they’re ready!” Mabel called.

Dipper hurried up the stairs and ran into his shared bedroom, plopped on the beanbag, and Mabel started the call on the laptop they had on the floor between the two beds. The grunkles answered at once, sitting at the table and grinning.

“Well hey there, gremlins! How was your week?” Stan greeted.

“Pretty good, just the usual school stuff.” Dipper answered.

“Did you get the package?” Mabel asked.

Ford grinned and picked up the large sealed box and placed it on the table. “Yes, perfectly intact! We picked it up in Pevek two days ago.”

“What?! And you haven’t opened it?!”

“Oh, well we thought we should wait until…”

“You two will freeze!” Mabel shook her head and smiled. “Open it and get warm!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out his pocketknife and cut the tape. “Sweetie, in the last two years we’ve been sailing you’ve sent us three trunks full of blankets, eight pairs of gloves, at least a dozen sweaters for each of us, six scarves…”

“Not that we don’t appreciate it, we always love your packages, my dear.” Ford interrupted. “But you work too hard. We’re never cold thanks to you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mabel said firmly.

“Oh wow! Mabel!” Ford gasped happily as he pulled out a new green sweater-vest with golden diamonds and a long-sleeved salmon button up. “This is beautiful!” Ford also pulled out a regular dark-orange turtleneck.

Stan noticed there had been two stacks of things. Ford had already taken out his stack, so the old conman grinned as he plunged his hand into the box and grabbed his new baby-blue sweater with a sailboat on it. “Sweet! And look here!” Stan pulled out another sweater, this one being a warm cream color with tiny pinetrees on the neck and wrists and waist of the sweater. “Wow, Mabel! Just when I thought your sweaters couldn’t get more impressive… this is so cool!”

Mabel blushed over the compliments. “I’m glad you like them. There’s still…”

“Oh, my dear, this must have taken you ages!” Ford pulled out one last item: a large knitted blanket to go with the others, this one made with very thick yarn that was as soft as the melody of youthful days. It was very large and could easily cover both men, and it resembled the sky perfectly, being dark blue with white specks.

“Thank you, pumpkin, this is amazing!”

Mabel grinned and said, “Just please stay warm.”

Ford smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. We’re always careful, my dear. And thanks to you I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cold.”

Mabel wasn’t sure if she bought it, the number of times she saw their chattering teeth, tight jaws, and rosy cheeks and noses in pictures, but she decided not to fight it and she just smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are some benefits to living in the glorious year of 2014. Many different forms of communication allow people to keep in contact, no matter how far apart they are. So not only did Ford, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, text every day and send pictures and emails, they always had their Saturday night/Sunday morning video call. Always. So, of course, Mabel and Dipper were a little concerned when no one responded to their text messages to ask if they were ready for the call.

“Hey guys! Ready?”

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads! Can’t wait to see you guys!”

“Are you guys okay? We understand if you can’t make it this week.”

“Is something wrong? We’re not mad, but could you please text us.”

“Guys, seriously, this isn’t funny…”

“If we don’t hear back from you guys I will call the FBI! The CIA!”

“You guys do know how to use your phones, right?”

“Are you guys hurt?! ARE YOU DEAD?!”

Dipper looked up from his phone and across his bedroom. Mabel was in Sweatertown on her bed, buried in her favorite nightgown. Dipper sighed and moved to sit next to her. “Mabel, it’ll be okay.”

“They’re jerks.” Mabel mumbled from within the maroon yarn.

Dipper smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get payback when they finally answer.”

Mabel lifted her head just enough to peek at his twin. “But what if they never do…” And tears formed.

Dipper rubbed her back and said, “They will. I swear.”

But they didn’t. As time ticked from ten o’clock at night to midnight to even three o’clock in the morning, Dipper and Mabel stayed awake, waiting for a response, both of them knowing any attempt to sleep was futile. And when Mabel’s phone buzzed and rang for a video-call, they both dove and Mabel clicked the green button with a shaking hand.

~~~~~~~~

Stan gave his brother the mug of warm water. “You’re an idiot.”

Ford snorted and sipped the warm drink. “This isn’t coffee.”

“You don’t need coffee, you need to get hydrated.” Stan collapsed into the couch next to his brother. His eyes landed on the wall-clock, and he shot up quickly and ran for the bedroom. “DAMN IT!”

“What? What is it?!” Ford gasped.

“It’s Sunday!”

Ford groaned and slapped his forehead.

Stan grabbed his phone and found a dozen text messages from each kid and some missed phone calls. “Ah jeez, I know you’re wiped out, Sixer, but we gotta talk to these kids.”

“I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, we’re calling them.” Ford hollered back as he loosened the grip of his blanket and Stan entered the room. His brother sat next to him and called Mabel’s phone.

At once Stan’s phone lit up with two distressed looking kids, both with wide eyes but missing their bedheads. “YOU’RE OKAY!” The two teenagers cried out.

Stan winced. “Kids, we’re really really sorry…”

“What happened?!” Mabel gasped. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?! You don’t look very good, are you sick?!”

“Mabel, sweetie, I’m okay.” Ford eased. “I… erm, I fell overb-...”

“YOU FELL IN THE OCEAN?!” Mabel yelled in horror.

“Ssh, Mabel!” Dipper hissed, eyeing the door.

“Are you okay?! Are you on your way to a hospital?! Do you need anything? We can hitchhike…”

“Mabel, Mabel, please, I’m alright, Stanley’s been taking excellent care of me.” Ford said firmly. “I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie, but…”

“Well, good!” Mabel snapped, visibly angry and now full-on scolding. Stan and Ford glanced at each other nervously, getting flashbacks of scoldings from their mother. “You should be, knuckleheads! We can’t tell if you’re even still alive unless you tell us! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?! If something happened to you… I’m glad you’re happy and doing what you love, but PLEASE don’t kill yourselves doing it!” Mabel bit her lip as she realized she was yelling, and she used the long sweater sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Aw, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Stan replied calmly. “You’ve got every right to be mad at us. I’m sorry, I should have at least texted you. But I honestly didn’t cuz I was busy keeping this dork alive.” Stan teased, elbowing Ford and making him smile. “So, yeah, that was really scary and that wasn’t fair, but he’s gonna be just fine and we’re both okay and you know that now. Right?”

Mabel held her knees and sunk her face into Ford’s old sweater, only her eyes and the top half of her face visible now, but she wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah… Yeah, okay…”

“Mabel,” Ford said firmly. “Mabel, look at me.” He waited until her eyes were on him, and he smiled softly and said, “We’re okay. I promise, we’re both okay.”

Mabel couldn’t help but return the smile. “Okay… okay…” She sniffed and lifted her head a little, but her chin was still happily buried in red yarn. “So, tell us what happened? Was it the Kraken again?”

Stan grinned at the opportunity for a story, and the kids happily sat and listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

Almost fifteen-years-old. Dipper should know better than to run off into the woods after a dangerous anomaly, but he did it anyway. Mabel stayed home to make sure the monster didn’t come back, and was soon reunited with her boys as they arrived, breathing heavily. Dipper was okay for the most part. His arm was hurt and he had a black eye, but he was okay, and their grunkles were only a little scuffed and there was a leaf or two in Ford’s fluffy hair.

Mabel hurried to Dipper, but instead of hugging him like the three guessed she would, she smacked her brother over the head.

“Hey!”

“Mabel!”

“You KNUCKLEHEAD!” Mabel screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that again, you hear?! Don’t you dare! What were you thinking?! You just HAD to go after it! Couldn’t go inside like a normal person!”

“Good to see you too, sis.” Dipper muttered. “I had it under control.”

“I don’t care! What if you never came back…”

Dipper blinked and interrupted her. “Aw, Mabel, that was never gonna happen.”

Mabel bit her lip, held herself, and looked away.

“M-Mabel, I’m really sorry…”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up first, and then we’ll talk about this, okay?” Stan eased, sensing that they needed a time-out. “C’mon, kid.”

Dipper sighed and followed Stan to the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit, leaving Ford alone with Mabel, who was well prepared to talk to her.

“Mabel, my dear, you have every right to be upset with him…”

“How could he do that?!” Mabel looked up at her uncle. “How could he think for a second it’s okay to just run off like that?!”

Ford chuckled a little to try to lighten the situation. “You know your brother. He has high ambitions and is extremely curious.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Mabel snapped. “It’s still stupid and selfish! I know he needs to do what he loves, but doesn’t he know how much I need him?! How can he just leave me behind?!”

Ford stared at Mabel. Her voice was cracking, her lip was trembling, and something in her eyes was screaming to be heard. Ford thought for a second, then dared to ask, “A-Are you talking about Stanley and I as well?”

Mabel sobbed. She yelled out in pain and collapsed on the bottom step, burning her face in her hands, and sobbed her heart out. Ford was stunned to hear her cry so hard, in so much emotional pain. She didn’t even cry this hard over any nightmares, and he had dealt with a handful of them. Poor Mabel was crying so hard and violently she gagged and retched occasionally, her body torn if she could cry or not but it was out of her control.

Ford got on his knees before her, but did not touch her. It broke his heart to see her so upset. And he and Stan had done this? Whatever it would take to fix it, he would do it. He was reluctant, but if sailing around the world with his brother was causing this much pain for their girl, then they would both agree to dock for good. “M-Mabel…”

“I understand…” Mabel mumbled through her tears and into her palms. “I understand why you had to go… why you both wanna go… b-b-but what if something happens to you?! How many times have you both gotten sick or hurt or nearly killed?! I miss you all the time and I’m always worried I’ll never see or hear from you again!”

“Oh, Mabel, sweetie…” Ford reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but Mabel threw herself into Ford’s hold and he hugged her back tightly.

“I get it… I understand why you have to go… so WHY do I still feel this way?!” Mabel sobbed, clinging onto his uncle for dear life. “I’m so angry and scared and hurt! But I don’t want you to stop, I want you to sail cuz I know it makes you happy, but I need you to be okay!”

A lot of things clicked in Ford’s brain. Why Mabel always sent packages full of warm clothes. Why she always asked what they ate. Why she always checked on them. Why she was very observant and asked if they were okay if something was slightly off. Why she easily got worried if she didn’t hear from them. And why she always hugged them like she never wanted to let them go.

Ford blinked his stiff eyes a few times and forced himself to keep it together. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. You and your brother are everything to us. I love you two more than anything. If… If sailing causes you this much distress we can…”

“NO! No no no!” Mabel screamed in horror, holding on tighter. “No, please don’t stop cuz of me! I don’t- That doesn’t matter!”

“Mabel Pines,” Ford said firmly and readjusted his hold on her so he could look her straight in the eye. “You matter.”

“I-I know. I know.” Mabel breathed. “But… please don’t stop sailing cuz of me. Please. I don’t want you to stop. But… I want you and Grunkle Stan to be okay. I… I can’t lose you…”

A large lump was in Ford’s throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it didn’t work. He compromised and took advantage of the silence. He cupped Mabel’s right cheek with his left hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Mabel covered his hand with hers and turned her face into his palm.

“I understand, my dear. I do. And I’m so sorry. I swear, we won’t stop sailing unless we want to. You have my word. But I also swear to you that Stanley and I won’t let anything happen. We;re too scared of losing each other to let anything happen, believe me.” Mabel moved her eyes to his. “We will always come home. I promise.”

Mabel hugged her uncle again and cried into his shoulder, leaving him to rub her back and pray she would be okay. Ford opened his eyes and caught the sight of his twin at the top of the stairs. He must have heard Mabel’s screams and come to investigate, but decided to stay out of it. But a look from Ford told Stan that Mabel needed him too, so Stan climbed down the stairs, sat behind her, and hugged them both.

#GF #gravity falls #gift #collab #ford and mabel bonding #fanfiction #clownwry #sea grunks #angst #ANGST AND FLUFF

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

The Good Doctor

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: You're the doctor in Alexandria and Negan comes on a supply trip, taking something that doesn't belong to him

Warnings: depression, death, mentions of off self, gets a little triggering, I know I'm missing some, Negan is off character, nothing is exactly right in this, it's writing for writings sake

A/N: This is my first fic in years please forgive me for mistakes, it's just me in this operation, probably gonna be a whole series, here is part two!

May 20th

Negan's trucks roll into Alexandria again, loudly pushing past the gate and up to the medical center. Your insides start to rumble at the nervousness you have to see the ruthless man who knows no bounds. You reluctantly step outside and wait for him at your door, not doing well at hiding your displeasure of the loss of supplies.

When Negan and his men get out of their loading trucks, Negan shoots you his oh so dangerous smile before directing his men to their collections, keeping two of his men with him, he finally approaches you. "Well good fuckin' morning Dr. Y/L/N," he holds the door open for you, "after you, doll."

You moved past him, smiling at him, and walked to the stockpile of medication you had collected yourself helping Daryl on runs. "Please, only take what you are owed." Negan's men glared at you viciously, "We will take whatever we damn well please." Negan turned to face his men, "Now, we have a peaceful agreement here with the nice fuckin' doctor, get the supplies n lets go." You smiled at him, "Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain." Negan nodded, "I may be a fuckin' prick, but I am a man of my fuckin' word, ain't that all that fuckin' matters nowadays?" You nodded, waiting in silence for the men to complete their tasks.

After the men went through the supplies that laid before them, they pulled Negan to the side, obviously keeping their conversation private, one of them turning to you and flashing you a gut wrenching smile, you leaned on the gurney, waiting for the problem. Negan turned to you, scratching his chin, laughing lightly, "See doc, my men seem to really think that you've tried to short us this week," your eyes went wide, remembering what happened to the last person that tried to short Negan and his group, "I know you wouldn't fuckin' do that so can you just clear this shit up for us."

Scanning over the pages in front of you, "No," you cleared your throat, "I'm not short, its all documented here," you handed Negan the clipboard. As he scans over it, looking at your logs for every pill that comes in and out of this faux medical center, every date and name, the two men he placed with him rips your bag from your shoulders, dumping it out on the table, displaying the contents. Negan glances up, taking in the items on the table; a knife, a ripped up pack of spearmint bubble gum, a few pens, a small first aid kit, a few hair ties, stray items and a small leather bound notebook.

Negan slams the clipboard down, smiling at you, "I'll be damned she's fuckin' right boys, pack it up, it's all in the goddamned charts." You let out a breath of relief, a little worried to be Negan's next lesson. One of the men came close to you, pushing you backwards toward the gurney, "Don't test me bitch," backing away while still staring at you, he picked up your knife and waved it at you, "mine now, doll." The nickname reverberated evil inside you, at least when Negan did it, it felt at least flattering, but this man dripped poison from his words. At that though, Negan perked up, "Come on, shithead we've got things to do." You panicked, "No!" They all turned to you, "You cannot have my fucking knife," you backed up a little when the man stared you down, "please, it means a lot to me." The man started to say something, obviously furious you would even try ordering him, but Negan stopped him, taking the knife and handing it to you. The man he took the knife from grumbled and picked up your pack of gum, "Fuck you, keep your knife bitch, I'll take something sweet." Flashing you his smile, Negan was gone.

As you watched his trucks leave Alexandria, you finally returned to your work, cleaning up the mess his hooligans had made. Straightening the bottles, subtracting inventory, picking up your bag and sighing at the small amount of happiness you had as you realized that was the last pack of gum that you could find in a 50 mile radius. As you were putting away everything on the table, you started to move frantically looking for your notebook, under the table, around the table, even been looking all over the room. You couldn't find it. Your coping mechanism for the world moving at a pace that you just couldn't handle. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized, Negan.

He just couldn't help himself, just has to know what makes the good doctor fuckin' tick. Now, he just happens to have an all access pass to your thoughts in the zombie apocalypse. Humming to himself and relaxing into his seat, he peeled the book back at the marker for your most recent entry, picked a random nearby page and began reading.

April 23rd

celebrating yet another round of people. at some point I hit my limit, just can't keep meeting and greeting. feels pointless, I never see half of them, and when I do they normally die in my clinic. is this what it's become? death after death? mercy after mercy?

April 30th

every time someone dies in my clinic and I slide a knife through their skull it just reminds me this is how it will end for us all. we'll all just be the walking dead in the end. when's my turn? when do I get to finally stop running this rat race and throw in my damn towel? everyone else gets to say goodbye seems fair

Goddamn, Negan thought to himself, there's an entry here for every fuckin' day. He readjusted, taking in where they were at and how long he had to read for now, planning to figure out how you worked. No shame in wanting the pretty doctor.

May 4th

so fucking stupid, absolutely incompetent, couldn't even find antibiotics. couldn't find any gauze or even disinfectant. what a waste of gas, we're beginning to pick clean every building, car and trash can in a 50 mile radius. how long do we have left with the saviors breathing down our neck

May 12th

found some supplies, couldn't find enough, not enough, people treat the medicine like it's never ending but I just can't keep up there's nothing left, there has to be something that I can do, has to be something out there for me to find, it can't just be all gone, I'm not thinking of something, there is something out there I just have to be fucking smart enough to find it

May 15th

risk is worth the reward, I finally found some more antibiotics, and hit the fucking jackpot, found some chewing gum, melted Twix for Judith, and a knife for henry after I lost his in that horde, indescribable emotion when I had that first piece of gum that reminded me of how it used to be, when I was surrounded by support and family, gotta make it last

May 16th

henry was carried in by rick and daryl. henry was conscious, talking, don't let me turn, he begged. rick said he fell from a third story window. daryl grabbed alcohol and gauze, rick grabbed the stitch kit while I cut open henrys shirt, glass, at least two dozen pieces, please be manageable. I grabbed the tweezers and pour alcohol on henry's chest, his screams. half an hour in, he's seizing, rick grab buccal midazolam, place it in his mouth, hold him still until it stops, wait for a beat, no beat, cpr, one hundred twenty seconds in, can't let him turn, wait for beat, no beat, knife.

had to be something more.

Negan shifted uncomfortably, this went on for at least ten pages, questioning every move you made, reliving putting down a good friend of yours, is this how you mourn?

May 17th

This is it. surrounded by death, my turn.

Fuckin' christ, Negan thought, now realizing that the good doctor is too fuckin' hard on herself. Realizing that you had your own horrible demons, and that this world is starting to get to you.

May 19th

Guess not.

Negan felt horrible for taking this, he felt like he had taken a piece of you, just trying to figure out which buttons to press to make you want him like everyone else, he definitely didn't expect this. He had to give it back, had to find a way to make it better, and he just might have a plan.

May 21st

You woke up feeling empty, just going through the motions, getting dressed, brushing out your hair, brush your teeth, quarter of a piece of gum- no. Walk to the clinic, not hungry today. You sat in your chair, clipboard on lap, staring at the door, waiting for your next victim to come through. After about two hours, you hear a few bikes pull into the gate and getting closer. Taking a peak out the window, you see Negan at your clinic doors with a relatively large backpack on, and the same two men he had with him yesterday, and an extra woman who you had never seen before.

Negan walked into your clinic, the woman standing at the door but not stepping in, and you couldn't do anything but get your knife out. "What the fuck are you doing back here?" You pointed the knife at him, not going to let him take anymore of your hard earned supplies. "You raided yesterday and stole from me! The kind of nerve a selfish prick like you-" Negan pulled out your book and an unopened pack of spearmint gum. You lowered your knife, looking at him like a confused puppy, and then jerked the book out of his hand, leaving the gum. "It's a fuckin' peace offering, doll," Negan held out the gum, but you didn't take it, just stared at him. "I don't want it, you don't get to take all of our lessening supplies and steal from me after I've been nothing but honest trying to keep our deal for no violence and then just come offering a pack of gum your henchmen stole from me! I worked for that! I worked for all of this! I was good to your men! I was good to you, Negan!" You started tearing up and turned away from him, mindlessly putting your journal back in your bag, sighing in great relief that it was returned to you.

"Doll, I didn't fuckin' mean to upset you, I didn't fuckin' know what it was-" Negan stepped closer, setting the bag he carried on your table, "it's not the only peace offering, I've got two more." He sat the gum next to the pack and took your place in the chair, spinning around. You emptied the pack, meds, gauze, a Twix bar, and a few cases of extra supplies. You immediately turned to him, eyebrows raised, "What's the fucking catch? Nobody gets anything from you without a catch." Negan smiled, scratching through his beard, that trouble causing smile, "You gotta come back with me." You scoffed, gawked at that. "Are you serious? You want me to come back with you, with the saviors? Why? That's not even possible, I-I'm needed here, I'm the only one whose been studying the medical books, only one that can tell their ass from their end, that's just stupid-" Negan stands and points to the woman at your door. "Cue the next fuckin' offering, Amelia. She knows what she's fuckin' doing, she's a good one and fuckin' despises my fine ass, so I know that your fuckin' people are in good hands. You only gotta come for a week, just a fuckin' week."

You sighed, not sure what to do, but only had seconds to figure it out, "Okay," you moved closer to him, "on two conditions." Negan smiled, turned on by your big balls of courage to demand something from the man who mercilessly beat the shit out of people with a barbed wire bat. "I have today to train her on how to keep things in order while I'm gone, and next week, you leave Alexandria alone, and no taking extra in two weeks, we get to keep our extra supplies for next week." Negan scoffed, unbelievable that you'd demand that, he's gotta run his own group, "Are you fuckin' joking sweetheart?" You laughed, packing up the supplies and giving the bag of supplies back to him, "No, I am not," you pulled back and crossed your arms, "so how bad do you want me, Negan?"

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