before he lost control

Oh all the comrades that e'er I’ve had
Are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I’ve had
Would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I’ll gently rise and I’ll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

who else hears the parting glass and thinks of Harry? just me? ok

CASTIEL AND HIS SACRED OATH - 12x10, 12x12, 12x23

This scene here. This split second glance is so so important. I don’t know why people aren’t talking about it (I couldn’t even find any gifs of it and had to take pictures coz I’m computerly incompitent). But I wanted to give my own analytical response to this millisecond glance, because I think it demonstrates properly why Cas has never done anything about his feelings for Dean. 

First, some context from my behalf: I always assumed Cas had never admitted his love for Dean for one of two reasons, 1) he was an angel, therefore not quite understanding his feelings himself - perhaps confusing them with familial love, Dean style. Or 2) he was afraid his love may not be reciprocated. But after watching 12x10, 12x12 and 12x23, I can thoroughly rule out reason 1. 

Now, I’ll be talking a lot about 12x10 as that ENTIRE EPISODE and THIS LOOK are so closely correlated. 

Keep reading

Who’s Your Oppa? (charliesfairy)

Genre: Smut and a lil bit of angst but it’s barely even there my dudes

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader 

#14: “Take. It. Off.”

Requested By: @goddessofdestruction 

i’m still shit at titles,,someone pls help me,,but i’m such a slut for yoongi,,and that gif,,goddamn daddy,,yeah,,i’m going to hell,,bye

    It was never a good idea to tease Min Yoongi, but you never really had many ideas that didn’t land you in some kind of trouble so teasing him is almost an everyday occurrence, whether it be sexually or not.  Today, though, you were feeling unusually needy and desperately craved relief, but your boyfriend seemed to pay more attention to that damn microphone in his studio than to you.  You had a plan that would definitely change that.  There was no hiding the fact that Yoongi both loved and hated when you wore his clothes because it meant you’re trying to show that you’re his and he’s yours, but it, also, meant you got whatever you wanted because he just couldn’t say no. 

    Whether you simply steal one of his snapbacks or went as far as taking a whole lazy day outfit from him, it always got you exactly what you wanted.  With him being glued to his studio, it was going to take some drastic measures to get him to take his eyes off that stupid computer screen, but it wouldn’t be impossible.

    “Yoongi-yah,” you addressed him as you leaned against the door frame to his studio room, “Jimin-oppa said he’d come over and hang out with me since you  wo-”

    “You know how I feel about calling the other boys oppa.” he said sternly, not looking from the screen.

    “I know, but I don’t care right now because you won’t pay attention to me.  At least, Jimin-oppa will pay attention to me.” you retorted.

    You saw his jaw clench in anger, but he still didn’t look away from the screen.

    “I just wanted you to help me pick an outfit for when he comes over.”

    “Babe, I told you,” he huffed, “I’m very busy.  I don’t have time to help you pick out an outfit for your precious Jimin-oppa.”

    “Well, what do you think about this?”

    You had on nothing but one of his red flannels, completely unbuttoned.  You’re bottom half completely exposed, and your top half only partially covered by the fabric that moved every time you moved.  You knew he’d break as soon as he saw you, but he just wouldn’t look away from that computer screen.

    “I’m sure Jimin will love whatever you wear.  Now will you please-”

    “Goddammit, Min Yoongi, just look at me!” you screamed at him out of frustration.

    That was all it took for him to angrily push his chair back and lock his eyes with yours, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.

    “I am standing here almost completely naked for you, but you won’t even fucking turn around, you jackass!”

    The way you threw your arms exposed your chest for his staring eyes.

    “And now that you actually turned around, all you’re doing is staring at me!” you continued to yell, “Fucking say something!”

    “Take it off.” he stated.  He didn’t seem the least bit phased by your outburst.

    “No!” you refused and started to button up the shirt, “You’re lost your chance.”

    “I said: Take.  It.  Off.” he ordered again, “Or I’m going to come over there and rip it off you.“ 

    You looked from his angry eyes to his pursed lips and down to his hands which were balled up into fists, his nails digging into his palms.  You froze, your dominance diminishing as each second ticked by.  Then, you felt the cold wall hit your back, the red flannel thrown on the ground, and Yoongi’s warm body pressed against yours.  He had pushed you with such force you almost couldn’t breathe, but you had no trouble letting out a gasp of ‘Yoongi-oppa’ when he plush lips attacked your neck, licking, sucking, biting.  He stopped once he heard what you said.  

    “I thought Jimin was your oppa.” he smirked, but there was still anger in his voice.

    “He is.” you replied, deciding to tease him a bit more before you lost all control in the situation. 

    He thrusted his hips against yours, causing you to whimper loudly.

    “I’ll fucking show you who your oppa is.” he growled.

“Laura saw you two making-out...” - Old Man Logan x Reader

#6. Getting caught making out with Logan for @jobean12-blog.

At first I started to write a story with “normal” Logan, but then…Well I got inspired by (film) Old Man Logan and Laura, so…yeah. Though it didn’t turn out how I initially thought it would, it turned out more…serious than funny, but like, with a movie like Logan as an original material…you know ^^’. . Hope you’ll still like it and will be ok with the Old Man Logan blahblahblah :

(My masterlist blog here :


You couldn’t even recall the last time you had a moment like this…Was it over a year ago ? Before Charles lost control of his power and destroyed everything he ever build ? Before all your friends died ? Before you, Logan and the professor had to run away from the X-Mansion and hide because of what happened ? Right before you called Caliban for help maybe ?

You couldn’t remember. But it was hell of a long time ago.

Yes, Logan and you hadn’t had a moment of intimacy like that in ages…

Ever since the Xavier’s school incident.

This was so refreshing. So nice.

Feeling his tongue in your mouth, his body flushed against yours, his hands roaming your body, his smile in the kiss as your grip tightened around him.

It almost felt like old times. When things were easier. When things weren’t so complicated. When it was just you and your loved ones, living an almost normal life in the mansion, saving the World on a regular basis…

But this time was long gone, and you definitely cherished that fleeting moment you had right now with your Wolverine.


It wasn’t really meant to happen. It kinda just did. Which made it even greater than  it would be if it was planned.

Since you had to run away from the X-Mansion over a year ago, you and Logan rarely had time for yourselves.

He was working really late everyday, and when he came home, was too tired to do anything else but sleep. And you had quite busy days too, working your ass off as well to be able to buy the sun seeker one day, and leave this godforsaken place.

Keep reading

jace/simon, post 2x14 scene

“Simon,” Jace says, pounding at the door, “Simon, come on.” 

The door actually opens, and Jace takes a step back at the fury carved into the lines of Simon’s face. 

You - “ Simon begins, and he cuts himself off, his voice thick, before he starts again. “More than anyone else I don’t want to see you. Get out.” 

“It wasn’t - it’s not like that.” Jace mutters, and he looks intently at Simon, willing him to figure it out through sheer force. 

“Then what was it like? Huh, Jace?” Simon steps forward now, his eyes red rimmed and glittering with anger. He pushes, hard and sudden, and Jace is flying back, hitting the containers on the dock with a clang. He grunts, a sharp pain lancing up his back, and opens his eyes to see Simon bearing down on him. 

Simon is beautiful. Jace doesn’t know how to express it, how to untangle the mess his heart’s become. Clary is fierce and gorgeous and looks at him with a challenge in her eyes and a spring in her step that he’s never seen before - but Simon. He makes Jace feel like he’s lost complete control of the situation, his heart beating out an irregular, confused staccato. Simon unbalances him like nothing before. 

“I love her, and it’s all - you both humiliated me!” Simon shouts, the words echoing around them in the cool night air, and Jace flinches back at the anguish in Simon’s eyes as he slams his forearm across Jace’s chest. “And after all that, you want to come back here and - and what, tell me it wasn’t like that?” 

“It isn’t - Simon.” Jace says, low, and Simon shakes his head, and Jace is - Jace hates it. He’s never seen Simon like this before, a combination of fury and sorrow that Jace is intimately familiar with from his own past; it’s heartbreaking. 

“Clary showed up a while ago to say that she loves me.” Simon spits the words out, trembling, and he laughs bitterly. “And now you want to tell me this. All you guys do is lie to me, right? Poor Simon, always the stupid mundane, running behind Clary and thinking he had a chance when Jace has always been in love with her - “

“Simon,” Jace interrupts harshly, a wild feeling in his chest, “I love her, I do, but that’s not all, and you can’t pin this on me. You can’t.” 

“Can’t I?” Simon asks, shoving harder. “Can’t I? She desires you the most, Jace! You!”

“She loves you too - “

Loving me too makes me a second choice - “

“It doesn’t.” And then Jace is surging up, pressing back against Simon, his hands going to cradle Simon’s face as he kisses him, fast and hard and messy. He’s desperate, swiping his tongue against Simon’s parted lips as Simon groans, surprised, and if this is the only thing he gets he’ll take it. Jace wants Simon, needs him with a confusing ferocity that wars with the ever present ache for Clary that’s settled into his heart and he doesn’t know which one is more real, just knows that Simon is here and under him - 

And Simon is suddenly kissing back for a wild, glorious second, the sound of their lips sliding together slick in the night air, a molten heat pouring in between the two of them and cementing into something real and dangerous, hopeless in the way that anything Jace touches becomes. Simon’s arms slide to Jace’s hips for just a moment, thumb smoothing under the hem of Jace’s shirt, until he jumps back like he’s been burned. 

“You love Clary.” Simon says accusingly, his voice cracking and his eyes pleading. Jace is panting, flushed, his hands clenched into fists, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers across Simon’s skin and see what kind of sounds he can draw out. 

“I did. I do. I don’t know.” Jace says hoarsely. 

“She wants you.” Simon says, shaking his head, and he looks so lost, suddenly small in the vast, empty night. 

“She wants you too.” Jace manages to get out past the lump in the throat. “And to be honest, I know the feeling. Of wanting you.” 

“The kiss you most desire.” Simon repeats helplessly. “The kiss you - Clary kissed you.” 

“It’s very easy to love you, Simon Lewis.” Jace says quietly, finally pushing off the container and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, but - you’re breaking my heart a little too, you know.” 

He turns and walks away then, because he can’t be here anymore. He can’t - he can’t deal with this, can’t figure out when he started to let go of Clary and instead fall into Simon’s orbit. 

“Jace.” Simon calls out after him, his voice anguished. “Jace.” 

“If you and Clary had been trapped,” Jace says into the night, not bothering to turn back, “I don’t know who I would kiss.” 


Long after Jace is gone, Simon slumps against the door of the boathouse and runs his thumb across his lower lip, remembering the rasp of Jace’s stubble against his cheek. He thinks about vines twisting around Clary and Jace, pinning them to the spot and demanding he lay his heart out in the open for everyone to see.

“I don’t know either.” He whispers. “I don’t know either.” 


“I don’t care,” snapped Victor suddenly, the air humming to life around them. Mitch shot forward, putting his hulking form in front of Sydney, and Victor caught himself before he lost control. All three seemed surprised by the outburst, and guilt—or at least a pale version of it—tightened in Victor’s chest as he considered the other two, the loyal guard and the impossible girl. He couldn’t afford to lose them—their help, he corrected himself, their cooperation—certainly not today, so he drew the energy back into himself, wincing as he grounded it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a low breath

GOT7 / Their S/O waking up from a coma with no memory

Request: Hello can you plz do bts and got7 reaction to their s/o in coma because of accident after arguing with them and finally wake up after 2 months and lost memory… if you could 😂😂😂 thx

Thank you for requesting this! Hope you enjoy!


TRIGGER WARNING! accidents resulting in hospital stay. Also, a looooot of angst.


Originally posted by jintuans

He knew you were really careless when you were emotional, so he made sure to never leave you alone after the two of you got into a fight. However, this time, his principles took the best of him and he didn’t check up on you until the next morning.

When he had finally called your number, your crying mother answered. Somehow, she managed to explain that you’ve gotten a severe concussion, resulting in a coma. Mark was already on his way to the car as soon as he heard that you’ve been injured.

The fear of losing you was so strong that Mark was afraid to leave your side and stayed in your hospital room all of the time. The nurses jokingly offered to place a bed for him in the room.

However, sometimes he had to leave – to go to the bathroom, or to get some food from the cafeteria. And exactly a month after your accident, he was coming back to your room with a tray of food, when he heard your mother’s voice. He thought she was telling you how much she needed you to wake up, so he didn’t want to bother her, and stopped in the hallway, outside of the door.

“Mark is going to be on cloud nine when he comes back!” he heard your mother say through the door.

He frowned in confusion.

“W-who?” a quiet voice responded, but Mark heard it as clear as day.

Dropping the tray to the floor in shock, he burst into the room to see your eyes opened and your mother crying tears of joy.

“Y/n!” he shouted, not even realizing what you’ve said before.

“I told you he’d be happy!” your mother said with a wide smile.

“M-mum,” you started cautiously, while Mark grabbed your hand to kiss it. “I don’t know h-him.”

Both, he and your mother froze, finally understanding. You didn’t remember him.

Mark removed himself from you, looking at you with a pained expression. This hurt him even more than the news of your accident.


Originally posted by limwoohyuk

Both of you were very temperamental when it came to fighting. Which is why your arguments often escalated. However, the two of you had a rule never to go to sleep without making up first.

Seeing that it was already 11pm and you still haven’t returned home, he didn’t want to break the rule before going to sleep, so he dialed your phone number.

The horror he felt when your hysterical best friend picked up your phone, yelling about how you caused a car accident and were now in a coma, could not be described in words.

His entire world seemed to have stopped in that moment. It took him a few more minutes to break off from the trance, but by then he was already in the car, on his way to the hospital, cursing himself every few seconds.

Your best friend and he got into another fight in the waiting room of the hospital, with him blaming her for not calling him as soon as she found out about you, and her blaming him for the fact that you got into the accident in the first place.

Eventually, the doctor managed to settle the argument down and allowed both of them to see you.

Both of them spent the night by your bedside. Eventually, after you still haven’t woken up three days later, Jaebum told your best friend to go home.

And then he proceeded to apologize to you every day for the next few weeks, even though he knew you probably couldn’t hear him.

And then you woke up. He was asleep with his head on your bed, your hand in his, so he didn’t realize.

“Uhh,” you groaned, not sure if you wanted to wake him up, but waking him up anyway.

He was disoriented as he jumped up from the chair he was sitting on.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed. “You woke up? W-when?!”

“I’m sorry,” you said under your breath. “Y-you kept apologizing b-but I don’t know why… I don’t even know y-you.”

Jaebum thought he was still sleeping and this was just one of those anxiety-induced dreams. But it wasn’t. You were there, looking at him with confused, helpless eyes, while he watched you - the love of his life - not recognize who he was anymore.


Originally posted by jypnior

Neither one of you liked it when you fought. Jackson, especially. He didn’t even want to let you storm out of your shared apartment, grabbing your hand and begging you to talk it out. However, you told him you needed space, and he let you go, not wanting to piss you off even more.

He had a bad feeling about this. At first, he thought it was just the anxiety caused by the fight you two just had, but then he received the call. As he listened to your mother’s panicked voice, he was already running down the stairs to get to his car and drive to the hospital.

After narrowly avoiding a speeding ticket, he finally got to the hospital to find your devastated family standing around your unconscious body in the hospital bed. After short explanations from each family member, Jackson found out that you were so upset you didn’t look where you were going and ended up walking down the road right in front of a car. The driver braked but it was too late, resulting in serious injuries that left you alive but caused you a coma.

Blaming himself for not holding onto you after the fight tighter, Jackson spent the entire time by your bedside.

You finally woke up three weeks later and Jackson was there next to you, having rehearsed the words he’d say to you a million times in his head.

“Baby,” he whispered, not being able to stop the smile from spreading on his face when he finally saw the color of your eyes again. “Can you hear me?”

“I can…” you started but then your voice cracked.

“Don’t talk, just listen,” Jackson said. “Y/n, I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s completely my fault—”

“Wh-what happened?” you interrupted him. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“Oh. Right. There’s been an accident. We got into a fight and you—”

“We?” you asked, raising your hand from the bed slightly to gesture at the two of you. “Are you sure? B-because I don’t remember y-you.”

Suddenly, Jackson forgot every word to the speech he’s been rehearsing in his head all of those nights that he stayed by your bed, praying you’d wake up. This was not the response he imagined to get from you.

Shocked and hurt, he got up from the seat next to you.

“I’ll… I’ll call the doctor, okay?” he asked, suddenly looking for an excuse to be alone with his thoughts for a moment so he could control the tears that threatened to come.


Originally posted by jypnior

It seemed as though this argument you two have been having has been going on for days. Eventually, the two of you stopped talking to each other altogether. Jinyoung heard you close the door of your apartment but he didn’t ask where you were going, even though he was worried about you getting lost in the blizzard that was in full force outside.

When it was already dark outside and you still haven’t returned, he got concerned. When he got ready to call you, he realized that his phone has been dead for God knows how long, so he plugged it in to charge it and soon noticed five missed calls from your number.

Feeling his heartbeat speed up, he quickly called you back.

He wasn’t expecting to hear your best friend’s voice, telling him that she was on her way to meet you for drinks, but you never showed up. Apparently, due to the blizzard, you hadn’t realized you were walking on ice, therefore you slipped, fell, and hit your head on the pavement, resulting in a skull fracture, and consequently, a coma.

Panicking, Jinyoung found a taxi to take him to the hospital, afraid to drive in this condition and in this weather.

Feeling guilty for not being there to stop you from going out in this weather, he tried to make it up to you by not leaving your side. Even your parents told him to go home but he refused and kept repeating that it was his fault you were here in the first place.

When you finally woke up from the coma two weeks later, he thought he was going to explode from happiness.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me,” he said, feeling so overwhelmed with relief that he was about to cry.

“Where am I?” you whispered after a while. And just as Jinyoung was about to answer, you continued. “Can you call my family?”

“Your family is on their way,” Jinyoung said, giving you an encouraging smile. “I’m here with you. I’m not leaving.”

“Okay,” you said, happy that you’re not alone.

At first, you didn’t dare to ask the question that kept nagging you since you saw him in your hospital room, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you said, interrupting Jinyoung who was retelling you everything that you’ve missed in those two weeks that you’ve been unconscious. “But… how do we know each other?”

Jinyoung immediately stopped talking, looking at you in horror.

“You don’t remember?” he asked, shocked. “I’m your boyfriend. We’ve been together for two years.”

You were really surprised to hear this. “I’m sorry. This feels like the first time I’m seeing you.”

Jinyoung stared at you in confusion and disbelief. How was it possible that the past two years of your life were completely wiped away from your memory? He had hoped the doctors would fix this because he was not going to let you go again.


Originally posted by jiminthebun

The two of you were in a car, on your way home from a restaurant. You were still arguing about something really irrelevant. However, you were both too into it to stop.

Unfortunately, arguments and slippery roads rarely went well together. Before Youngjae realized what happened, he had lost control of the car, not stopping before entering the main road, and driving into it right in front of a passing car.

The other vehicle hit your car from the passenger side, resulting in your hospitalization, while Youngjae barely suffered any injuries.

Even though the doctors wanted to stitch up his eyebrow that had split open during the crash, he refused to leave you alone, even if he knew the best doctors in the city were taking care of you. And yet, they still couldn’t do much. Waking up from a coma was up to you and you only.

The guilt Youngjae felt was indescribable. He held your hand, whispering how sorry he was every day, hoping you’ll hear him and forgive him soon.

A month later, when every single injury Youngjae suffered that night had already healed, you moved. It started out as slow movements of your fingers, but within a few hours you had opened your eyes, and a few more hours later, you could already talk.

“God, I’m so glad that you woke up,” Youngjae whispered as he clutched your hand to his heart, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears in. “All of this was my fault. I still can’t believe I wasn’t watching the road. I’m so sorry. I can’t even explain how sorry I am.”

“I don’t remember anything,” was the first thing you said.

Youngjae’s eyes popped open. “W-What?”

“I’m sorry,” you added. “But I have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about.”

Youngjae was having a hard time understanding this. Here he was, praying for your recovery every night, and that came true. Except now you had no idea who he was.

The guilt he felt before intensified when he started to think that he caused you to forget who he was by not looking after you enough. By not putting an end to your fight that night. By not controlling the car properly.


Originally posted by jwxngs

You were always ignorant of your surroundings whenever you were upset or stressed. And after getting into a fight with BamBam, you were both. This has been your third fight this week, so naturally, you were starting to fear that he would break up with you.

The thoughts about having to break up with him were what preoccupied your brain when you started to cross the street without looking both ways. You thought you heard a car signal you but it was too late.

When BamBam found out you got into a car accident that caused you a coma, he wanted to scream. He controlled himself, however, but only because there were lots of people around. When he was left alone, he let himself express his grief in every way he knew how.

In the end, he decided he had to pull himself together and patiently wait until you woke up so he could tell you how sorry for everything he was and how he was never ever going to leave you.

After the longest two weeks of his life, you finally opened your eyes.

“Oh my God, Y/n,” BamBam gasped. “You’re awake! Finally! I’ve been worried sick. I’m so glad you opened your eyes.

“I…” you tried to talk but your throat was to try.

“I’ll call a nurse so she can bring you water because I’m not leaving your side,” he told you as he pressed the emergency button next to your bed. “Y/n… I’m so sorry you’re here. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I swear to you, I would never break up with you.”

“Break up?” you groaned quietly. “We’re… together?”

BamBam felt cold all of a sudden.

“Y-you don’t remember?” he asked slowly.

You tried to shake your head but couldn’t. “No.”

He shook his head in disbelief. There was no way he spent all of this time worrying about you only to hear that you don’t remember who he was anymore. He knew you two deserved a happy ending after all that happened. Why the hell were you not getting one, then?


Originally posted by got7hoe

With the tears blurring your vision, you ran out of your apartment, leaving Yugyeom – who was still yelling – alone inside. All you could think about was how much you hated fighting. You didn’t even realize that you couldn’t see where you were going, and the stairs in the hallway of your building started sooner than you expected.

You lost your balance immediately and was forced to fall down the entire set of stairs. There were a few seconds when you haven’t lost your consciousness yet, and already in those seconds, you were too confused to understand what had just happened. And then you passed out.

And much to Yugyeom’s – who, unlike Jackson, didn’t manage to avoid a speeding ticket on his way to the hospital – sadness, you didn’t wake up from the coma caused by the heavy concussion, for a whole month.

He spent this entire time with you, not doing much else, other than staring at the wall of your hospital room, fearing that he’ll go insane if you don’t wake up soon.

Suddenly, an entire month after the accident, you woke up, startling him but also inflicting indescribable joy upon him.

“Y/n, thank God!” he shouted once he saw that you had opened your eyes.

“What..?” was all that you managed to ask.

“I’ll explain everything that happened,” Yugyeom said. “But first tell me does anything hurt? Should I call the doctor? The nurse? Anyone?”

“M-my family?” you tried. “Where are they?”

Yugyeom was a little sad to hear this but he understood. “They’ll be here. I’ll call them right now if you want me to.”

You nodded as much as the cast on your neck allowed you to. Yugyeom got his phone out and started to dial.

“H-how do you have their phone n-numbers?” you asked, suddenly realizing.

Yugyeom frowned in confusion. “Well, you gave them to me.”

“I did?”

Realization dawned on him. “You don’t remember.”

You stared at him not knowing what to say. You had no clue that you’ve forgotten something.

“Do you know who I am?” Yugyeom asked but his hands started to shake even before you answered.

“N-no,” you answered a little awkwardly.

Yugyeom’s entire world collapsed around him. As he watched your clueless eyes stare at him, he started to think he had truly gone insane in those days when he was waiting for you to wake up because there was no way that this was the reality.

credits go to the original owners of the gifs!

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the truth we didn't know

pairing: junkook x reader

genre ft. au’s: angst + royal au + hanahaki au

word count: 8.176

authors note: just wanted to say a quick thank you to my wonderful friend @taexquila for being so kind and for beta reading this mess you are so amazing i cri

summary: “Grant me strength to endure this torture, grant the prince strength to endure this agony.” And grant, God did not. Since the higher upper had so many more plans in mind.

The atmosphere was almost chilling as Prince Jungkook lazily trudged through the thick mass of the pearl white snow in nothing more than a silk black frock coat made with the finest of silk moths, a pair of suit trousers which was already starting to cling around his ankles and beige ankle boots. Lifting his head up, he aimlessly watched the tree’s lean and whisper, with a thin sheen of snow adorning them they looked like regal figures entwined in an intricate dance. Although there was a thick canopy of of gelid leaves bordering the woods, the snow still fell in slow, unretiring movements onto the uneven ground.

Jungkook usually came out to the wintry woods when everything became too much or too loud. The woods were like a safe haven, where he was free to think and not be judged; where the only eyes that followed him were that of the shadows of the trees that seemed to sense the overwhelming amount of loneliness that Jungkook emanated. His heart sang along to the symphony of the wind and his ears picked up the slight melody of peace whenever he walked, with no destination in mind and sometimes he’d think that this is what it feels like to be free.

The Prince of Abraxus was in love, but there was also no doubt that the woman he loved did not have any space for him in her glacial heart. Jeon Jungkook had never experienced what it meant to be in love. However, one month after his engagement to Princess Ye Sun, from a neighbouring kingdom, he had felt a slight shift in the pace of his heartbeat whenever he saw how the wind picked up her hair as she swiftly slid into her carriage or how she slightly bit into the plush of her lips when she concentrated on something. He loved her in those flowing silk gowns that she wore to bed, hair rising on the back of her neck from goosebumps; his entire world had transformed since all he could see were her blistering smiles, and all he could smell was the aroma of a fresh bouquet of irises wherever she went but after a while that smell had become sickening yet for some unknown reason – he always craved for it.

The first wave of nausea was a week after his sudden realisation. What he had thought was bile had risen in his throat as his weak legs dashed to the washroom and as his head soon hung over the toilet seat, blue iris flowers came tumbling out from the warm confines of his mouth. His body shivered as he lifted a wavering hand to the corner of his mouth, pulling a soft object in front of his eyes he saw a single petal; the petal was in a shade of a heavenly royal blue with a faded white centre reaching down to the beginning of the petal and he couldn’t help but gasp at such a sight. Stunning he wanted to say but the words got caught in his throat as another mouthful flowered out.

“Master! Master!” Jungkook heard a gentle voice croak out before he lost control of his body and his arms dropped to his sides, his head lolling to the side as he fell unconscious, noiselessly hitting the stone cold marble ground.

When his eyes fluttered open he could hear the voice of the royal physician fading in.

“It’s the hanahaki disease.” The physician’s voice was a low rumble that sent chills down Jungkook’s spine. He slightly shifted under the bedsheets so he could see the two people.

Jungkook’s mother was running a trembling hand through her hair as she spoke. “How do we cure this?” Her voice was surprisingly opposite to how she looked but Jungkook knew his mother; she might have looked terribly composed but the slight tremble when she started to speak always gave her away to Jeon Jungkook– the queen was afraid.

“Well…” the physician starts, his hands tucking into the pockets on the sides of his white trousers, “he could get the operation.” And for a moment the room became eerily silent. Jungkook’s body froze as his mother soon opened her mouth to speak, her eyes just faintly glazing.

“No.” but it wasn’t his mother who had spoken, but Jungkook himself. He had expected his voice to waver yet his no was one that held admirable defiance. Both pair of eyes fell upon him, wide from astonishment from not realising that Jungkook had been awake this whole time and was listening in on the conversation. “I will not be operated on,” upon his eyes meeting his mother’s, he lowered it in respect, “my dearest apologies, Your Majesty.”

“Son,” she started, clearing her throat to rid her voice of an onslaught of emotions, “why?” It didn’t sound like a question, instead a desperate plea.

“Because I want to feel.” His answer was short and simple, holding no space for argument yet his mother carried on.

“If you get the operation y-you’ll still be able to feel! Just” The last words were quiet as they left her lips.

This time Jungkook raised his eyes to look her in the eyes. “Mother,” for a fleeting moment he closed his eyes while counting to three, “I want to love.”

This time the queen couldn’t stop her knees from buckling under the pressure and her eyes clamped shut as burning tears slid down her porcelain white face. “I’m sorry mother.” Jungkook said sincerely, feeling his heart ache at the sight of his broken mother, the uncomposed queen, as the physician lifted her and started to leave the room, but not before giving Jungkook a look that he will return; Jungkook was also sure his mother had heard his apology because before the two had left, her lips had slightly lifted in what he thought was acknowledgement.

Suddenly, Jungkook felt his chest constrict as he struggled for air, eyes watering as his hands desperately clawed the air. It was as if the walls were caving in on him but slowly his ragged breaths evened out and his body became numb for a few moments.

Sloppily, Jeon Jungkook stumbled out of his bed, his hands reaching out for shoes and a coat as he ran out of the too extravagant room.

“Master? Master! You can’t leave! You need to rest.” Prince Jungkook stumbled across the maid, hands reaching out for the wall to stable himself.

“Tell them, I will be back.” I just want to breathe, with that he ran as much as his frail legs let him all the way out into the solitary world; at least in his case.


Princess Y/N had sat with her arms crossed and gaze heavy wondering what was happening back at the castle, maybe her father had ordered to send out pamphlets claiming THE PRINCESS OF ILSAN HAS GONE MISSING and had sent out knights to look for her or maybe they were doing nothing at all, Y/N didn’t know for sure but when a chubby man with blond stubble lifted a hand with a finger pointed towards her; Y/N knew, they had sent out pamphlets probably with a prize for the person who had found her.

Sighing, she had fled the tiny tavern, swung her leg over the saddle of her white stallion and whipped away. But it wasn’t easy because her horse, lovingly named Snow, seemed to falter in his steps making the princess wonder if there was something wrong with her companion.

After 2 hours she finally stumbled across another tavern. Lifting an arm, she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and slightly pulled it to cover her face. As she started to walk towards the entrance she heard an abrupt moan, the princess was never one to interrupt but the name moaned out caught her attention.

“Princess Ye Sun” The voice grunted again, this time louder and clearer and definitely not belonging to the Prince that Princess Ye Sun was engaged too, deeming Y/N’s suspicion true and the rumors about Princess Ye Sun’s affair true. Y/N and her father, King of Ilsan, had went to Prince Jeon Jungkook’s and Princess Ye Sun’s engagement ball which was why the name rang a bell.

Realising that this place was even more dangerous than the one before, Y/N tiredly sighed under the shelter of her hood before turning around and hoisting herself back onto the horse in one languid movement, and again, she was off and this time she was going into a forest.

As she entered the thick canvas of tree’s Y/N saw remnants snow, wondering if it was snowing in the forest since perched upon various bushes remained flecks of crystalline ice mounted upon one another. Grinning into the air, Y/N stretched one of her arms out and euphoria instantly drowned her senses as the cold yet oddly comforting wind flew past her arm while blowing her cloak within the strong gusts.

As an hour had passed by and Princess Y/N still hadn’t reached a destination, beneath her she soon felt her stallion stagger harshly as time began to go in slow motion; the animal began to drop to the ground while sending her tumbling forward. Not having enough time to react, Y/N snapped her eyes shut waiting to feel the harsh ground beneath her.

But it never came.

Prince Jungkook stared at the girl in his arms, he noticed a few snowflakes dotting her brunette hair that were so much different than Ye Sun’s blonde locks he thought. Her eyes were closed with her long wispy eyelashes fanning her cheeks and all of a sudden her eyes flew open in bewilderment. Jungkook had realised that his arms were still wound around her waist and quickly retracted them when she looked stable enough, yet when the support of his arms left her, her fragile knees bucked in. Jungkook quickly stepped forward and grabbed her waist before she could touch the ground. Clearing his throat, Jungkook pulled her up and held out an arm for her to hold, turning his head at the same time so she couldn’t witness the faint rosiness tinting his cheeks. She was frozen beside Jungkook as if unable to comprehend the situation and it wasn’t long before Jungkook heard her gasp. “Snow” she said and at first the man thought she was talking about the little amount of snow surrounding her, however, that was not the case.

She had stumbled forward and was crouching next to her horse, running her hand up and down it’s smooth skin. The horse’s legs had turned into an unnatural angle and Y/N could feel her heart getting heavier with each beat. “Snow,” She mumbled, voice coming out quiet as she planted gentle kisses along the stallion’s face, “Did I do this to you?” Her voice shook as she spoke before she began to cry out softly. “I’m so sorry.” Everything around her was still as she placed Snow in her embrace.

A weak neigh escaped the fragile horse and Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it pulsing viciously in her ears. It was painfully obvious at how much agony the horse was in, the horse’s body didn’t move an inch even when the the princess caressed it, trying to get the horse to talk even though she knew that was inevitable. She had come to a conclusion, realising that she knew exactly how to rid her beloved companion of the horrid pain. The woman then buried her face into Snow’s mane in an attempt to show her affection and love for one last time, soon retracting and already missing the horse’s warmth as this time slow tears were rolling down her face while she stood up.

Jungkook watched her stagger back, her chest heaving shallow breaths as her shoulders shook. Then, he saw her hands dart to the crossbow and arrows strapped to her back as he stared at her in alarm. Her arms quivered as she aimed directly at Snow’s heart, wanting to relieve him from his pain.

The man watched as she closed her eyes, maybe in an attempt to stop the tears from falling or maybe to stop her hands from shaking as she pulled her arm back, her eyes concentrated through blurriness to where the horses shuddering heart was. It then happened all too fast, the arrow, Snow’s heart, his slow neigh that became quieter and the blood coating it’s mane. Y/N had dropped to the ground, her face buried in her hands as her cries resonated throughout her whole body.

At that moment Jungkook had realised that love could come in all shapes and forms. Here, it was between a strange girl and her white horse. Their love could be seen when the last thing that the horse looked to was the weeping girl who loved the horse just as much because each lone tear was a proclamation that was shouting for attention. Her sobs seemed to get louder with every passing minute. For a moment, the prince was unsure of what to do, Only knowing what his mother taught him about comforting he gently placed himself beside her sat and enveloped er hand while silently telling her that it was okay to cry. Her crying didn’t cease for a while but he didn’t mind; when it did she was staring at the horse, her eyes bloodshot and tear stained, agony etched into her face.

Y/N knew that the prince beside her could tip her father off yet she didn’t care. She didn’t care that her future had been sold off, she didn’t care that everyone probably hated her for acting so carelessly, she didn’t care about anything but the white stallion. A long breath escaped her as she closed her eyes, making a silent prayer to the God above that Snow was finally in peace.

“I could have helped her.” Jungkook said talking about the horse.

“Him.” Y/N replied painfully, a strike of misery trapping itself between her ribcages, “I could have saved him too, but I was too wrapped up in my fantasy of escaping that I didn’t realise every stagger in his gallop meant he was one step closer to death.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N didn’t know what he was apologising for but she had no energy left in her so she left it alone.
She then felt the prince freeze beside her, his grasp on her soft hands loosening as he doubled over. Blue flowers poured out of his mouth as his breaths came out ragged, with her free hand, the princess reached over and gently soothed her hand over his back, her grip on his hand tightening as if, if she held any looser, he’d vanish.

“Prince Jungkook?” He didn’t reply as he tried to regain his breath but the nod of his head told her he was listening.

“I saw her before.” She said when he had quietened. Immediately Jungkook knew what the woman was talking about. “Princess Ye Sun. I just- I don’t understand- how does your body know that this love is unrequited?”

“When you fall in love it’s like a piece of you becomes attached to what you love, which is why when she touches another man lovingly, her body knows she doesn’t love anyone else but him.” Jungkook’s voice was tender as he spoke about Ye Sun.

“So it’s like soulmates?”

“Well no- because for it to be soulmates, destiny would have made her fall in love with me already.”

“Why don’t you try loving someone else?” She asks, talking about it like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.

“I wish.” He replied, laughing humorlessly.

“If I can stop myself from falling in love, I’m sure you can learn to love someone else.” She deadpanned. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at her.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Princess Y/N of Ilsan.” Jungkook nodded, recognising the name.

“Also what do you mean?” He gazed at her in curiosity, watching as her hands fiddled with the silkiness of her cloak. She sighed at Jungkook but from the small, pain induced smile gracing her face he knew she didn’t mind.

“My father, King Leon, forced me to spend many of my days with the Great Prince of Atlantis since he got us engaged. I’m not sure if father sent out an invitation to everyone since it wasn’t official, anyway- the prince was charming, I must admit, his kind words and gentle gaze melted the hearts of many women and although it did melt mine for a bit, I realised that I wanted to marry someone I loved, not just as an oath between two kingdoms. So I gave up and ran away because I wanted adventure but he wanted only that around him, never further. Now if my father finds me I don’t know what’ll happen; he may be my father but at heart he is just a cruel merciless king who demands for order in his kingdom and can’t bear when things go astray. He doesn’t care, even for those who care for him.” Jungkook nodded understandingly.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jungkook watched as her eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted as if in deep thought.

“I- I don’t know.” Jungkook and Y/N were both quiet for a moment, relishing in the lulling sounds of the lustrous nature surrounding them.

“My family own a small vacant village just by the castle, you can stay there.” Jungkook said, eyes finding hers.

“I- I cannot burden you like that Prince.” She stuttered.

“Why’d you switch to formal speech on me now? Just stay, Princess.” Jungkook replied, amused.

“What if someone recognises me?” Her hands were fiddling with her cloak as she mumbled her words.

“Trust me,” Jungkook reached over and placed his large warm hands over her cold ones, “I’ll make sure they don’t.”


“Prince Jungkook? Is that you?” Jungkook’s eyes widen as he hears Ye Sun. Quickly he pushed Princess Y/N through the door before closing it behind him. Forcing out a laugh, he turns to face Ye Sun.

“Hello Princess.” When he see’s her, he takes note of her dishevelled state and her swollen lips and can’t help but feel a surge of hurt race through him.

“What are you doing here?” She asks curiously, her calculating eyes following the way Prince Jungkook scratched his hair.

“I just wanted to be alone for a while.” And maybe that wasn’t a complete lie yet for some reason he felt as if he was betraying the lady in front of him. Jungkook’s palms were clammy as he dropped his eyes to stare at the ground. “Ye Sun, please go.” He knew she wasn’t affected by his words since the moment he asked, she had already gone 10 steps away. Jungkook knew that no matter what he said she would always leave with nothing but a pitiful smile plastered onto her face.

Jungkook roughly pulled the door apart so hard he was afraid it’d fall off its hinges and before he could even help it he was running over to the bucket beside the large bed. His hair stuck to his now sweating forehead and his breaths came out ragged, all thoughts flying out of his mind for just one. Moment. Of. Peace.

His body soon fell limp against the warm one of Princess Y/N who had been beside him, running a delicate hand up and down his back as a comforting gesture. Jungkook felt the hand push strands of his dripping hair away from his face. He let the Princess pull him up and bundle him into the bed, pulling the cream satin sheets over his quaking body. Through his blurry vision, he observed Y/N’s graceful self walk away. Then his eyes shut feeling a rush of both heat and cold spread over his body. They all walk away was his last thought before he finally fell into the arms of oblivion.

He woke up to the sound of even breaths and a shroud of darkness that blanketed the tiny house. Jungkook lifted an arm to his forehead, feeling a damp towel, his lips curved up into a small smile. There she lay, her head buried deep into her arms and her body crouched over.
His eyes flitted to the glimmering crescent moon outside the window and he realised that he’d been out the whole day; he knew he had to return to the palace. Everyone must have been getting increasingly worried for the boy whose condition seemed to get worse with every passing day. They were getting anxious for the boy who was dying.


The next morning, Jungkook was out of his bed by 9am and was rushing out of the palace, ordering the maids to let his mother know that he was leaving for the day and would be back in a few hours. Luckily nobody had questioned his oddly cheery behaviour and shrugged it off.

Knocking on the door, Jungkook waited patiently for the princess to let him in. The third time he knocked he realised the door was still open and then cautiously stepped into the petite house, and there he found the bed empty. His heartbeat had started to palpitate wondering if she had left him already. His eyes darted around desperately trying to figure out where she went.

The sound of footsteps from behind him echoed causing him to spin around and dart after the noise. Catching glimpse of her familiar grey silk cloak, Jungkook broke out into a full sprint as he made his way to her. As soon as he was close enough he grabbed her wrist to stop her from getting any further.

“Where are you going?” He asked breathlessly, feeling slightly light headed. She didn’t reply but struggled against his grip to leave. “Please don’t go.” His voice held a desperate tone as he tugged her closer. Jungkook didn’t know why he was stopping her from going, all he knew was that he couldn’t let go of the the shattered girl in front of him. Pulling the girl closer, he inspected her face curiously.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, hearing her sniffle, “don’t cry.” Jungkook continued. For a while they both stood there, basking in each others warmth against the biting cold that crept up every tiny crevice of their bodies. Jungkook watched the girl calm down again for the second time and realised that she glaringly contrasted her surroundings.

The streets around her were empty, alone with no colour in it except that of the trees and the antique castle that towered everything, however, she stood wearing a grey cape and her hair artfully splayed over her shoulders unlike many other princesses who kept their hair up in a tight, clean bun. Unlike everything around her, her shivering body told stories of long tiring journeys, heartbreaking losses, stories of being lost in a friendless world where nothing momentous happened, but her eyes, they were the most arresting since, her irises were a wintry grey with flecks of shimmering taupe swimming around, they talked of fondness of the unknown, of hurt through storms but strength that not even the best soldier in any kingdom had.

“I was scared.” Her voice came out small, so quiet that Jungkook almost missed it. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t have to, the silence was comforting enough. “It’s too dangerous here Prince. I cannot stay. Your soon to be wife nearly saw me, it’s much too dangerous.” Her voice was thick with emotions as she spoke; Jungkook meeting her eyes with his as he stepped closer to her. Around them the atmosphere warmed and finally the sun had started to peek through the desolate clouds as if sensing the hope that swarmed around.

“I told you Princess, trust me.” His words held promise but Jungkook knew she still wasn’t convinced.

“Why should I trust you Prince?” Jungkook gazed at her in thought as she took a step back, putting some distance between them. “Your silence tells me what I thought.” That she cannot trust Jungkook. She bowed her head at Jungkook to bid goodbye but his words had made her freeze mid- step.

“Because I care.” Jungkook let out a breath and reached forward to grab her. “I care about yo-”

“Well you shouldn’t” She snapped taking Jungkook by shock because the girl in front of him looked so different to the vulnerable and lonely girl who had been crying back in the woods or the gentle girl who slept in such an innocent manner. She had put up a wall between herself and Jungkook because she was feeling too much, her soft gaze had now hardened and her voice was steel. “You barely know me Prince. Do not say that you care for me.” That might’ve been a threat to Jungkook but he didn’t care as his grip on her arm tightened.

“You cannot tell me not to care because even if I did not want to my heart would only urge me to.” She stared at Jungkook in disbelief as she struggled to pull away from his grip.

“Stop.” Jungkook had expected her voice to come out strong but it came out as a small murmur of despair. Sighing, Jungkook stretched his arm over her shoulder, pulling her hood over her head.

“Come on, I want to take you somewhere.” He grasped her hand and slowly started walking. Not even 10 steps later, she had pulled her hand out of Jungkook’s.

“People will misunderstand.” She mumbled as she nudged him to carry on walking.

The Kingdom of Abraxus was famously known for it’s landscape, with acres of vegetation sweeping over the vast majority of the land and with flowers ranging from exotic to winter ones gracing the lush greenery. Travellers were always stopping at Abraxus between tiring journeys for a single moment of peace because that was what Abraxus provided; warmth and comfort, even if it didn’t last long. The Queen of Abraxus created perfect order in the kingdom; of course, apart from a few exceptions. Those exceptions being the Prince’s disease and his unloyal soon to be wife.

The Queen had tried to search for new women, yet none dared since they thought that the Prince was already doomed, some even deeming him incapable of being loved as they were afraid Jeon Jungkook would be too head over heels for the woman who stole his heart which ultimately meant they would not get his attention.

“We’re here.” Jungkook announced his eyes thirstily drinking up the sight in front of him. Turning to the spot he thought Princess Y/N was, he opened his mouth to start talking only to come face to face with empty air. Adjusting his sight towards the flowers he saw her. She sat next to carnations the colour of ivory red. Her gaze was filled to the brim with intense curiosity and adoration as if she’d never seen such flowers bloom in the Kingdom she lived in. Jungkook’s eye followed her delicate pale finger, as she dragged it along one of the petals in fascination, he observed as an inaudible gasp left her velvety lips.

“How beautiful is this.” Jungkook heard as he sat down, legs crossed beside her, his eyes looking fixedly at her in wonder. It seemed as if she had noticed the Princes heavy gaze because her cheeks looked as red as the carnations around her.

“We don’t have these kinds of flowers in Ilsan. We have mostly lavenders and orchids that I have grown accustomed to seeing ever since a young age. Even in France, I did not see many flowers as stunning as these.” Jungkook’s ears perked upon hearing a foreign country that was so far away and from what he heard so much more different than the kingdoms here.

“France?” He asked, genuine interest plastering itself all over his refined visage. She slowly nodded at Jungkook, her head slightly tilting, letting her hood ever so slightly slip from its position.

“My mother and father had sent my sister and I to France when I was 16. We stayed there for 3 years. Those three years had taught me many things including a completely new language and knowledge on so much more than just the surface of life.” He watched as a new fondness glazed over her eyes as she stared wistfully into the fields, hands still unconsciously running through the abundance of carnations. Jungkook soon understood what the glaze over her eyes represented.

“You fell in love.” He breathed out. Her face had fallen and the Prince saw as she struggled to keep her breathing even. His heart had started to become heavier as they fell into a comfortable silence.

“His name was Jimin and God,” throwing her head back she choked out a laugh, although that laugh was not one of humor, “he loved me too much.” Some would think that her comment sounded arrogant and self centered but what they wouldn’t have heard is how her voice, that was so thick with emotions, was so intensely saturated with perfervid agony.

Her fingers had now stopped fiddling with the silk petals and were now loosely clenching the thin material of her robe and her eyes, oh so visibly, stinging with burning tears and already turning bloodshot as she continued. “We had met in a bakery at night, our senses overwhelmed with the smell of freshly baked breads,” seeing Jungkook’s enthralled look, her lips slightly lifted, “he had dropped scalding hot tea over my 17 year old self and I had caused a scene because who would like having burning tea dropped over them after an incredibly stressful day? Although we were complete strangers, for some reason, after I had managed to somewhat dry my dress, he had encased me in a hug trying to apologise and somehow I felt safe. And then-” That’s when Princess Y/N choked on her words and felt a lone, warm tear spill out.

Upon entering the penthouse, a chill crawled up her spine but the incandescence of the flickering flame in the fireplace provided some warmth for her quivering body, shaking her head she realised that Violet must have forgotten to turn the fireplace off before getting into bed.

“Violet” she called out, padding around the house, head peeking into the few rooms there were in search of her sister when a quick ping informed her of a message.

Violet [11:28]
I’m staying over at a friends house tonight, I’ll be back tomorrow morning

Sighing, Y/N dialled a number into her phone, knowing that the person would be here in an instant.
“Jimin, can you come?”

Y/N was someone who found immense joy in the quietude of the night. She had spent many nights alone, with just her and silence; those were the nights she felt content with but then there were also nights where she’d sit on her balcony with Jimin, looking over the barely dim lights that glittered the sleepy city of Paris. Placid nights with Jimin were what completed her extravagant life, he always carried a calming simplicity that made him alluring, and whenever he was around he’d bring with him serenity; something Y/N needed so desperately. She’d spend her time listening to his warming tales about life, that was what they mostly talked about; and oddly they never seemed to bore her even if sometimes they became repetitive, just watching Jimin’s eye curve into gentle shining crescents were enough to make her interested again.

There was one night in particular when it had been two months since she had just started dating Jimin, where both, Y/N and Jimin were wide awake with too many thoughts flying through their minds and when Jimin spoke up, his fingers trembled as he finally started to fully open up his heart for her.

“Y/N,” he sounded so small, like a vulnerable child wandering aimlessly through a crowd with no parent waiting for them at the end, “I’m scared I’m going to die without loving.” Y/N had only stared at him thoughtfully, when finding the right words she started to speak.

“I can’t promise that you’ll love me Jimin,” This was the night she had confessed. “But I promise I will love you.” After hearing those words he had stumbled forward and locked his lips with hers but apart from tasting the usual sweetness of his lips she had tasted tears.

There was a knock on the door making Y/N jump up to her feet, knocking her out of her reverie. He’s early she thought, already feeling euphoric about the the mere thought of his presence. But then as the door creaked open, Y/N found herself short of breaths as she was harshly slammed onto the wood of the door.

“Evening Princess Y/N.” The man snarled under a black mask that covered nearly every inch of his face.

“W-what?” Y/N hadn’t revealed to anyone other than Jimin about her royal blood so shock coursed through her veins as her heart stuttered. Her eyes met his. They were unusual and his eyes were ablaze with vivid resentment. It was like fireworks going off in his eyes; they rung with a deep rooted and passionate hatred that felt as if it were sending spears through her heart. But there was also sorrow, and right off the bat she could sense his internal agony of sorrow and hatred. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

Then something seemed to click into place and instead of his hands circling her neck it was something metal that glinted in the feeble lighting. The man, she realised, was treading between a thin line of desperation and lunacy and Y/N had just snapped it with a mere sentence that maybe in her mind didn’t mean as much as it did to him.

Suddenly, energy surged through her and she was ramming her fist into the man’s chin and using his slight stagger as an advantage to sprint out the door. Under the lustreless street lights she saw a figure sprinting towards her. Her hands reached out when he looked close enough and she felt herself collapse under his comforting embrace. Jimin had no time to ask Y/N what was happening because a stranger came barreling towards the two. Pulling Y/N behind Jimin stood in front of her rigid figure.

“What do you want?” Jimin’s voice was emotionless as he spoke to the other man.

“This has nothing to do with you. Move out of my way.”

“If she’s involved, I am.”

“I’ll give you 3 seconds-” Stepping from behind Jimin, Y/N gazed at the man.

“Why?” She cut through.

“Our father,” he spat, fingers gripping the handle of the dagger tighter, “killed my mother.” Before Y/N had any chance to react at the sudden news he was already moving in with the dagger. Yet she didn’t feel any pain. Instead her eyes widened in horror. The dagger had pierced his heart and the white tee shirt he had donned slowly became stained with crimson blood and her tears
“Jimin-” She begged shaking his shoulders ever so gently as his mouth opened for one last time.

“In the end I loved.” Her legs finally gave out completely next to the boy lying on the ground. In the tenebrous darkness, raging hot tears burned her skin like coal thrown into a furnace. Her hands clasped his in attempt to bring him back, her trembling mouth met his in another vain attempt to get him back his lost breaths and her eyes met his trying to plead him to come back. But it was all fruitless.

Y/N had underestimated how much she meant to him. She hadn’t realised that his fervent love ran so deep that somehow along their time together, her tears had become his and that last breath that was meant to be hers became his.

Jungkook watched as Y/N took deep breaths after she had stopped speaking, her hands tightly wounded around the stem of a carnation making Jungkook lean forward and wrap his larger ones around them in an attempt to soothe her pain. He could still see that the wound was still raw but it was the way her hand had loosened beneath his, he knew that it was healing.

“Hey,” Jungkook lifted her chin with his finger to get her to look at him in the eyes, “Why don’t you come to the masquerade ball tonight to get your mind off of all this?” It sounded like a good idea. One night of not being herself and to just be someone else who is not plagued with tragedies or labelled as a runaway. Which is why she found herself nodding at Jungkook.

“Wait- I cannot go dressed like this.” She pointed to her attire that was not fit for an extravagant ball.

“We’ll go buy something, I know of a great place.”


After assuring Princess Y/N that the shop owner was trustworthy they had made their way. Upon arrival Prince Jungkook was met with the familiar face of his best friend, Taehyung. Taehyung was tall man with sparkling eyes and a beautifully structured face.

“Ah Jungkook!” He exclaimed, a grin adorning his face as he spread out his arms inviting Jungkook in for a hug. Chuckling, the Prince greeted his best friend all whilst Princess Y/N warily observed. “Who’s this lovely lady?” Taehyung asked, his eyes locking with hers.

“Her names Y/N and she’s a good friend of mine.”

“A good friend?” He asked raising an eyebrow at Jungkook, “how come i’ve never heard of this good friend of yours?”

“We only just met yesterday.” Jungkook clarified, eyes flitting to the princess, “but still, good friends.” he carried on.

“How can you be good friends if you only just met yesterday?”

“Because we are.” Princess Y/N responded, sounding neither annoyed nor happy.

“Anyway, Taehyung, we’re here to buy a dress fit for a princess.” Taehyung stared at Jungkook, his eyes wide as he stepped closer in curiosity.
As he came closer to the princess, she noted the faint smell of sandalwood and a tiny mole on the man’s nose; which was somewhat adorable.

“She’s a princess?” Taehyung stared at Jungkook whose gaze was fixed on Y/N as if asking for permission. With a slight nod of her head Jungkook replied to Taehyung with a small ‘yes’.

“I’ve got the perfect dress for you,” He exclaimed, his eyes darting towards the clothes hanging on the racks, “princess or not.” Taehyung added before running over to the corner of the small shop to grab something, presumably a dress. When he pulled it out to show the two, he smugly watched Jungkook and the princess fall in love; with the dress of course, not each other.
The corset of the gown was adorned with rich gold down towards the skirt but the further it went the more it became a more opaque and creamy chiffon material. Being a princess, Y/N had seen many beautiful ball gowns in her life but never had she stumbled across one so enchanting. Accompanying the dress was an embellished white and gold mask. They had both come to a decision, this is what the Princess was going to wear.


That evening when the sun had finally started to set and the sky had changed from a gentle blue to a more intense shade of pink and orange, the princess stood by the door of the small house, waiting for Prince Jungkook.

Princess Y/N’s hands were clammy as she took a breath in and let one out. Breathe in, breathe out. There was a fear that plagued her mind. She didn’t want to acknowledge it but it just wouldn’t stop consuming her every thought.
It was the fear of the future. Everything ahead was a nothing but a measly shade of obsidian; the princess feared her future because she wasn’t sure as to how everything would turn out. Would she be caught and taken back to the castle? If so what would happen to her? Or maybe, would she willingly give herself up? Because that was a possibility. With barely any money and food, how would she survive even a week? Yes there was the prince who could provide her with everything and whatever she wanted but the princess was not so selfish as to ask that much out of him since he already gave her a roof over her head. She didn’t plan to stay though. She was going to leave in a week.

The prince already knew too much about her and she couldn’t stay around him; he was a threat to her. A threat because she could feel something growing in her chest and it was absurd since it had only been 2 days since she’d gotten to know him. Princess Y/N couldn’t afford to lose her heart to a man she barely knew, and it sounds vain, but it’s much too precious. However, it was not precious because it belonged to a princess, but precious because it was fragile and needed to be well kept since it was still healing. Even a year later, with each beat her heart still throbbed with grief.

As much as the princess didn’t want to admit it, the princess and her relationship with Jimin was an ordinary one. With no rapid heartbeats or shimmying butterflies some would’ve thought that they’re relationship was not real; that the love they shared with each other was not real. But it all was. The reason being that their relationship was unlike others. How? That is something the princess could never explain.

They were each other’s first loves. Maybe not meant to be together forever but they were meant to be; even if it was only for a measly year or two. Their love was sweet, short lasting but impactful. Of course Y/N would remember him for the rest of her life but for now, she had finally come to a decision; she would move on.
Moving on meant she had to fall in love, but not kind of love you’re thinking about because instead of falling in love with another celestial human being she’d fall in love with someone just as magnificent. Herself.


The magnanimous ball room was great in size and regal in looks. Yet even if it looked lavish with gold baroque and plush furniture, something felt off. Jungkook stared at the lonely princess who lingered near the walls of the great hall, she looked lost in thought as if unfazed by everything around her.
Prince Jungkook had to admit that the girl looked beautiful. The word ‘beautiful’ itself was too plain in comparison to the sight he was bestowed with; he would have called her ravishing, captivating, gorgeous but none of those seemed to fit. Not because she wasn’t any of those but because she was something more. And for a moment his heart seemed to forget about Princess Ye Sun and instead ached for the woman with her hair out in soft brunette ringlets, who was so far away from him, both physically and mentally. Something he wished so hard to change the past few days. Just please, talk to me he thought but what use was that when he couldn’t even do that himself?
He barely knew the princess, yet he felt as if he knew her deepest and darkest secrets. But something was missing; and he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Prince Jungkook hadn’t realised that his legs were carrying him to the bathroom, his mouth already half full; and also the princess who was quickly trailing behind him. As he felt the flowers lurch forward from his throat, he felt a pair of hands wrap around his. This time everything was so much more painful. Every breath he inhaled seemed to burn, every tear that left his eyes seemed to sting and every mouthful ached worse than ever before and Jungkook didn’t know why. On the corner of his mouth he felt Princess Y/N softly brush her thumb against it. It lingered for a moment too short before she brought it down before her eyes and Jungkook’s.
“Blood.” He gasped out, eyes flying shut as he tried to regain his breath and unscramble his thoughts. There had only been a few cases where victims claimed by the hanahaki disease had blood come out with the petals, now Jungkook’s was one of them. Everything was blurry.
But one thing.
Prince Jungkook was really dying.


Princess Y/N didn’t know what to expect his room to look like, but she sure didn’t expect bare cream walls. His room was so lifeless with no movement, no emotion, nothing and for some reason she was shocked.
She tucked the covers into the prince’s frame and settled to sit atop the cover beside him on the bed. He was looking up at her, his eyes doused with gratefulness and fear. For a while, none of them spoke. As weird as it sounds, they just stared at each. Every curve and peak of his face was reflecting the moonlight, adding life to his crestfallen face.
“I’m really dying.” That was his only concern. He didn’t care that everyone downstairs in the hall were probably looking for him or that his fiancée was probably locking lips with her lover. The princess watched as he dug his head deeper into the pillow letting out a humourless laugh. If she didn’t know him, the princess would’ve thought he was crazy for laughing when he was dying, but the princess knew him and she cried for him.

That night, the two were so much more than strangers as she gently embosomed him against her shivering chest and whispered soothing words as his shoulders shook with tears of his own. Her eyes closed, her ears hearing the boisterous laughing and cheerful bellowing from below and she sighed, her chest constricting with pain for the man in her arms. “Grant me strength to endure this torture, grant the prince strength to endure this agony.” And grant, God did not. Since the higher upper had so many more plans in mind.


As the days passed, Prince Jungkook grew weaker and weaker. Every morning and night, when there was no one in his room except for the prince himself, Y/N would climb into the room, swiftly from years of experience when it came to avoiding royal guards. And every time she saw him, he’d look frailer; paler.
It had already been 3 weeks and the princess needed to leave, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave behind the prince for a reason much to complex and unexplainable.

The night was warm as she greeted Jungkook with a long hug. The moonlight beating against her back and the smell of flowers flew in through the open window as she laid next to him. Facing him, she was quiet.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, clearly concerned. Laughing, the princess grimaced at the irony of the situation. “Tell me.” He prodded, a frown appearing.

“Jungkook,” she sighed, reaching for his hands and intertwining them, “I need to leave soon.”

“Look at me.” He said seeing her eyes flutter around the room to avoid his. When she turned back around, the space between the two had decreased and the tension had risen. He leaned in as her eyes clamped shut. His lips faintly ghosted over hers and for a moment she found that she was concentrated on nothing else but him, how he smelt and his presence. When their lips finally met it was as if melody had finally met tune. She immersed herself in the kiss, letting herself find solace against the passionate flush of their embrace. This kiss was unlike any other ones because unlike the others, this one felt ten times more intense and she had an idea as to why. Desperately clinging onto him, she deepened the kiss, tangling her hands in his tousled hair to get even closer to him. He followed suit, his hands pulling her face impossibly closer as he relished the feel of her lips against his and the way their chest heaved up and down in messy and unsynchronised movements. However through it all, Prince Jungkook was so enraptured that he didn’t catch the quiet “sorry” that escaped the princess’s lips.

In the morning when she woke up, she placed a piece of paper beside his bed.
and with one last final kiss she fled.


This is what it feels to really die Jungkook thought as his trembling hands gripped onto the paper. His vision was blurry and his heart thumped wildly. This was it. He no longer minded dying.

Dear Jungkook,

I love you. Yes I will start off by saying that because I truly do. Every moment I’ve spent with you has been utterly amazing and I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate you. But I’m afraid that it is my time to finally leave; to give up this hopeless search for happiness and to return. As much as I wanted to stay, I had to return, even if it meant that I could die.

I have never explained my father have I? Nor have I explained what being a runaway princess resulted in right? So I will now. My father is someone who desperately asks for order and utterly despises it when things don’t go the way he wishes and being a runaway princess, with the King’s order, could result in execution; even if you’re his daughter. The King of Ilsan would do anything to keep order even if it meant killing his own daughter, but anyway he already has a second daughter so in his eyes my death would be of no significance.

Now I’m going to say the truth: what we had was indeed love but we could never be together. Maybe we’re star crossed lovers because we can love each other as much as we want but our stars would never align, how I know? Because even if you told me you loved me, which unfortunately was never, I know who the woman you truly love is. Which truth be told, was one of the reasons I decided to leave. I’m sorry Jungkook.

“Master?” A high pitched voice broke his concentration and his eyes darted to the shivering maid who looked solemn, her eyes staring at her feet as she spoke the next few words, “The Princess of Ilsan has been executed.”

Prince Jungkook realised that the princess of Ilsan was wrong. He no longer loved Princess Ye Sun like he did only a few weeks ago, instead he was hopelessly enamoured and so deep in love with Y/N. His love for her was pure and precious, and it fiercely burned with flames ignited by her love yet at that exact moment it didn’t burn pleasantly like it had, because now it burned with feeling of their love being a loose end. A loose end because he hadn’t told her that he loved her. Not even when she gave up the one most precious thing the night before. Not even when she professed her love, her eyes so alive and free.
Jungkook realised that maybe he and the princess were never meant to fall in love. That maybe this love was surprising, even to God.

For the last time, Jungkook felt his insides turn and his mouth open but for a change the flowers were no longer charming blue irises, they were carnations in a heavenly shade of ivory red and for some odd reason Jungkook felt euphoric. He could finally love he thought, even if it was not in this world; he could be reunited with the woman that he loved; at least he thought so.

Duly, love was ruthlessly cruel, constantly breaking fragile hearts and leaving the most profound and heartwarming stories unfinished. And this was the truth that everyone needed to know.


“I don’t care,” snapped Victor suddenly, the air humming to life around them. Mitch shot forward, putting his hulking form in front of Sydney, and Victor caught himself before he lost control. All three seemed surprised by the outburst, and guilt—or at least a pale version of it—tightened in Victor’s chest as he considered the other two, the loyal guard and the impossible girl. He couldn’t afford to lose them—their help, he corrected himself, their cooperation—certainly not today, so he drew the energy back into himself, wincing as he grounded it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a low breath.

for @aristotlemendoza

Loki Laufeyson Drabble (1.)

Originally posted by cheers-mrhiddleston

Requested by @sammi-faye I hope it’s what you had in mind ;P 

| 🔥🔥🔥  red hot | 

35. “I’m here now and I’m never leaving you again.”

66. “Death doesn’t scare me. Living scares me.” 

Her eyes glanced around the large sleeping chambers, everything finally seeming like it was in its place and back to normal. Though nothing physically had changed, the atmosphere was altogether different. (y/n) hadn’t felt this peaceful in months but now, with Loki lying near her in bed - their bed - things were as they should be. 

She shuffled in his arms, swinging her own around his slim waist in an attempt to pull him closer. The smooth skin of his chest was on full display and she couldn’t help but let her fingers run across it, dancing along the hard dips of his abdomen. Her small fingers paused when she reached a thin scar, a new one, decorating the area above his right hip. 

Loki knew that it was only a matter of time before she found it. His little queen was nothing if not observant, noticing if even the tiniest thing is amiss. He attempted to shush her worries before they could begin, pulling her up to be eye level with him on the plush pillows. His lips busied themselves on her shoulders and neck, placing light kisses wherever her night dress had fallen. 

“It was nothing-” 

“It does not look like nothing.” 

Loki sighed, his forehead pressed against her warm cheek. 

“It would take a lot more than an arrow to harm me, little Queen, do not be afraid of death.” 

The aura of the room had now shifted, becoming far more tender and vulnerable as the couple looked into each other’s eyes. (y/n) shifted, delicately slotting her legs around her lovers to straddle his hips. Loki smiled at her motions, sitting up a bit so that they could press their lips together easily. She sighed against his hot mouth, toying with his bottom lip when she pulled away. 

“Death doesn’t scare me. Living scares me.”

Black eyebrows shot up in confusion and concern at her words, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for what to say. She decided that more clarification would be necessary, rubbing her thumbs soothingly across his sharp cheek bones. 

“Death is unavoidable, it can happen to even the Gods. My concern would be what I would do without you. Life would not be worth much without my husband to enjoy it with me.” 

Loki’s appearance softened, taking her hands away from his face and grasping them tightly in his own. 

“I’m here now and I’m never leaving you again.”

She smiled at the God, knowing that he would never be able to keep that promise but also that she had already forgiven him. While engrossed in another passionate kiss, her fingers moved skillfully to the hem on the breeches he wore to sleep in. They slipped under the thin fabric to find him extremely hard and already leaking from the tip. 

Loki groaned as she began to work the silky flesh, rubbing small circles against the swollen vein down the middle like he had once shown her. He was about to complain when she stopped without warning but was mesmerized as he watched her drop her sleeping gown onto the stone floor. He removed his own clothing, then, taking her carefully in his arms to hover above her. 

Red and purple marks began blooming across her chest from the sudden attentions of his mouth and she squirmed under the attention. Her nipples were sore from his ministrations and her inner thighs were becoming uncomfortably sticky. His cock twitched against her stomach, painting her with the evidence of his arousal. (y/n)’s hips jutted up on their own accord, causing her to drag her wet folds across his sensitive flesh. 

Loki knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer as his erection began throbbing painfully. His hand quickly reached between the two sweat slicked bodies, guiding the tip to rest hot and heavy at her entrance. Angry crescent moons formed where her fingernails dug into the flesh of his back, urging him on like she was almost animalistic with her need. 

He dropped his forehead to rest level with hers, trying to compose himself before he lost all control. (y/n) continued to rock her hips upward in a blind search for release that she knew from experience only he could give her. Small whimpers left her lips when he finally began pushing into her, showering her with kisses to distract from the initial discomfort that came from being away from each other for so long. Loki was large in both width and length and she cried out when her walls began fluttering to accommodate him.

Uncontrollable curses fell from his mouth when his hips finally met hers, their bodies both shuddering at being fully joined again. He knew that she would need to time to adjust to the feeling, but it took every ounce of will power he had not to pound her into the mattress until she was screaming his name. She delicately licked and nipped at the skin of his shoulder, her eyes finally meeting his in an identical state of lust. 

“Make love to me, my King?” 

Whimpers and gasps rolled from her like waves when he began thrusting, slow and deep. He knew that neither of them would last and was desperate to prolong their pleasure as long as possible. A sharp change of angle was all it took for her to come crashing down from her high, legs shaking as she held onto him. Loki moaned into her open mouth, tongues playing with each other while he chased his own release. 

(y/n) tugged at his earlobe with her teeth, licking a broad stripe and then whispering to him. “Please, Loki, I want to feel you let go inside of me.” 

His hips sputtered from the unexpected intensity of his orgasm, cock twitching as he released everything he had. She reveled in the sensation, having never felt more loved and wanted than she did in that moment. When he regained his breathe he carefully pulled out and watched, amazed, as his seed spilled onto her legs and the sheets.  

Her small laugh brought him back to reality, hands tugging his arm to urge him up. The two basked in the glow for a while, holding and stroking the one that they loved so fiercely. Loki’s finger tips traced invisible patterns on the bare skin of her back and when she stopped humming an unknown ballad, he allowed himself to follow her into sleep. 

Tagging: @ivars-pet  @raekenimages @umwhatandrea @tiyetiye @synnersaint@brightlycoloredteacups @redheadedtrollop @rockyrascal @inthenameofodin@sweetvengeancee @fearxthexbloodmoon @skywalkingdixon @reitwix @bluearchersstuff@ivarthebonelesss @cutiepiepotatoes @piccolo-nour @drunksoldier @blonde-valkyrie

Wicked Wednesday

Mike and El

Hi, everyone! I’ve never posted anything that I’ve written before, but I decided to start posting some Stranger Things fics after a few very lovely people gave me encouraging words. Here’s the first one I ever wrote for the show – it’s not amazing, and it’s not long, but I hope it makes at least one person smile!

Mike wasn’t planning on walking towards Eleven. He wanted to give her some space to breathe. But as soon as he laid his eyes on her own big, brown, trusting eyes, he lost all control of his movements. Before he knew it, his feet were making their way over to her.

He stopped a good few feet away from her, suddenly nervous. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as she turned her face to his, a tiny smile forming on her pink lips. He tried to smile back, but he couldn’t move any of his muscles. Then his mouth began to open before his brain could think of a thing to say.

“El…” he croaked out. “Um, I – El, I just wanted to –“

El delicately but unexpectedly placed her soft hand on his freckled cheek, swiftly cutting him off. His words died on his tongue as he stared at her, his eyes widening. She was touching him. Why was she touching him?

Mike felt his body tremble as she smiled at him, her eyes lighting up as she caressed his burning red face. “I missed you,” she whispered.

Mike tried to respond, to tell her how much pain her absence caused, to tell her he missed her more than the world. But he didn’t. He couldn’t say a word; not with her looking at him like that. So instead, he shakily reached up and removed her hand from his cheek, and held it tightly in his two hands. He looked down at it, almost not believing that it was her hand, and that she was here with him. He rubbed her knuckles softly, rapidly feeling overwhelmed with emotion.


Mike hesitantly glanced up at her. He recognized the heavy emotion in her voice. “I missed you, El,” he blurted out, louder than he had meant to. He dropped her hand abruptly. He knew they were both going to melt into crying messes if they kept gazing at each other like this. Her eyes were filling with tears and he felt his mouth begin to quiver. He didn’t want to cry in front of her – not again. This was a happy moment. She was here, in his basement once again. She was home. She was with him. So, acting on impulsive, he moved closer to her, slowly closing the gap between them, and pressed his shaking lips to her cheek.

El didn’t react. She stood there, stock-still, the silence in the room accompanied by his viciously beating heart. Mike nervously pulled away. Surely, he couldn’t exactly expect her to react in any other way. She probably didn’t even know what a kiss was – and if she did, what made him think she would want him to kiss her?

Mike felt overwhelmed again, but this time for a different reason. He was about to swiftly back away until he saw that same small, sweet smile that she gave him many times before. He felt his breath catch in his throat as she placed her pointer and middle finger on her cheek, and then gently on to his lips.

“Do that again?” she asked quietly after she had removed her fingers.

It took a few seconds for Mike’s brain to comprehend what she had said – she wanted him to kiss her again?! – but as soon as he could catch his breath, he lit up like a Christmas tree, giving her the biggest beam he could muster. He moved in closer, and, feeling suddenly brave, pressed his lips onto her own instead of her cheek. His mind screamed at him immediately after he had done it, but he felt his shoulders relax as she gently took his unsteady hand and as he felt her smile against his mouth.

And then, nothing else in the world mattered, because he was kissing El, and she wanted him to, and she was here. She was with him.

She was home.




i can’t believe I used to think you were cool you’re not cool at all, Locus, you’re a huge loser oh my god

you big awkward baby i love you so much

Longing - Yoongi

Originally posted by gingervernon

Group: BTS
Member: Yoongi
Type: Smut
Word count: + 3300
Warnings: sexual content! , violence, cursing, mentions of blood

A/N: Inspired by the new MV for Min Yoongi’s mixtape and title track Agust D

His eyes slowly fluttered open to the blurry sight of what looked like his apartment, but trashed to the ground. He immediately squeezed them shut again when he felt a sharp pain gushing through the side of his head, his temple pounding with every heartbeat. As he hissed through his teeth, attempting to stabilize the twinge by applying pressure on the painful spot, he noticed he couldn’t move his hands. He kept trying to mobilize them again until he finally realised they were tied together behind his back.

‘What the…Fucking shit!’, he growled, frantically twisting and thrashing in all possible angles, struggling to free himself from the extremely uncomfortable position on his kitchen chair.

‘You finally awake huh? Had a nice beauty sleep pretty boy?’, a mocking voice resonated through the air, making Yoongi snap his head back up to meet the amused eyes of a man leaning against the wall in the door opening.

‘You…’, Yoongi rasped, his voice still wrecked from being unconscious for over an hour, but his eyes burning fiercely.

Keep reading

TC Imagine - Cute; SFW; he's worried about you

Hey guys! So this is my first TC imagine and I don’t know whether I’ve used the acronyms etc right and I don’t know how good it is so feedback is appreciated!! Also was typed on my phone so formatting could be dodgy…
REQUESTED BY @angiekurosaki

You walked into class, trying not to make eye contact with him. It was the second lesson this week and you knew he had noticed that something was up the lesson before. He had seemed so confused when you left as soon as the bell rang, with your bag having been packed 5 minutes before the end of the lesson.

Maybe he had gotten used to you packing up slowly and always being the last one out? Maybe he even liked -
You squashed the thought as soon as it entered your mind. It was pointless hoping. It was pointless trying. You probably inconvenienced him more than anything, by being so slow at packing up. Besides, why would he enjoy your company? It’s not like you had the courage to even speak to him, and you would stutter out every other word, turning bright red as you did so.

You took your seat at the back of the class and made sure that your hair fell over your face in a way that seemed almost natural. You felt his gaze - but didn’t look up.

For the first time that year, you barely listened to a word he said throughout the lesson. You managed to write your name and the date on the paper and then held the pen poised to look as though you were writing for the rest of the lesson.

It seemed to be an interesting lesson. They were all laughing at one point. He had probably made another of his jokes. But it felt as though you were in a bubble, detached from everyone else. Everything seemed muted and hazy. You just wanted to get away, go outside, be anywhere but here.

Suddenly the laughter stopped.

You looked up.

Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Y/N, you can answer this one! It’s your favourite topic, remember?” He was looking at you, desperately it seemed, with his reassuring smile. It seemed he wanted to know if you were ok, for you to give a sign of some sort. A part of you fluttered - he had remembered that this was your favourite topic!

You glanced at the board and quickly understood what they were learning today. You grasped the subject almost intuitively and could interpret things almost instantly - and he had noticed from the start. It was the reason why he had started to notice you in the first place.

“Sorry, what was the question?” you asked tentatively. You looked up and met his eyes for the first time this lesson. His eyes, bright and passionate as ever when teaching his subject. You noticed the slightly crinkle around the corner of his eyes, the slight squint, a silent question - are you ok?

You smiled back at him, trying to hide the emotions from your face. It was a fake smile if he had ever seen one. But it was also a silent exclamation - not in front of everyone! You hoped he’d understand.

“Yes everyone, she’s back!” he smiled. He knew the smile had been fake, but he also knew that you wouldn’t say anything with everyone around. The others turned back to face the front, seemingly satisfied with your expression.

“The question was, why does urbanisation increase literacy rates?”

You answered the question. It was strange how he managed to do this. It had just been a smile, a look, a short phrase to show that he remembered things about you, that he cared. One of the few that did. And he had reminded you that you weren’t useless. That you could do stuff!

“Exactly! Well done, Y/N! Alright everyone, lesson’s over! Have a great weekend, I’ll see you on Tuesday! And as a treat from me, no homework today!” he shouted over the ringing of the bell and the clamour of people packing up.

You scrambled to pack your bag. You needed to get away quickly, before he asked you what was up. Before you lost all control in front of him.

“Damn it!” you yelled as your folder fell on the ground, slipping from your hand in your haste to pack up. Pieces of paper flew out of it on the way down. Great.

A few people stopped to help but left after a few seconds - it was Friday, no one wanted to spend any more time than necessary at school. Besides, it would probably take a while.

“You want a hand with that?” you heard a familiar voice ask, as the final person left the room, the door quietly shutting behind them. You paused. Waited for your heart rate to slow down again. How could his voice do this to you?

“Thanks!” you replied, not looking up. You could feel the warmth emanating from his skin beside you.

You both knelt on the ground over the folder, barely inches apart. You saw him glance at you a few times but you didn’t, couldn’t, look at him. You scooped up the paper and shoved it in the folder, not caring about the order, whilst he meticulously arranged each sheet.

Your hand reached for the final few sheets just as his did and your fingers brushed each other.

“Sorry” you said, blushing furiously and moving to retract your hand.

“She speaks!” You could feel him smiling without even turning to look at him. “Y/N, talk to me. What’s up?”
You could hear the genuine concern in his voice and it made you tear up.
Fuck, you thought. I can’t cry in front of him.

“Um, yeah I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?” You kept staring at the ground and tried to make your voice sound jokey. You moved to stand up.


“Y/N. Hey, look at me.” You stared furiously at the ground, suddenly interesting in the fibres the carpet was made from.

“Y/N.” His voice was soft but had that slight gravelly tone which happened when he tried to whisper. You felt a warm touch on your hand.

You looked down and saw his hand placed lightly on top of yours. You looked up at him in surprise.

“You know you can always talk to me?” He looked really worried now.

You looked into his eyes, at his concerned expression. He hadn’t shaved recently and there was a light coat of stubble on his cheeks, and his hair looked slightly ruffled. His shirt sleeves were rolled up as usual and you noticed that the top button of his shirt was undone.

You realised you were staring at him and quickly looked away. Fuck it, you thought. I’ll tell him.

“Thanks. It’s just… everything. It’s all falling apart you know? Like everything? And I don’t really know what to do?” You kept looking at the ground.

“Ok, but what? What exactly is falling apart?” He sounded calmer now, seemingly relieved that you had replied. You felt rather than saw him lean against the wall and you did the same, conscious of the little space which separated you both. You pulled your knees up.

“Everything. Grades, friends, family.” The huge crush I have on you, you thought, but didn’t say. “It’s like… this year has gone by so quickly. And everyone is telling us to start looking at universities, and open days, and courses. And this just doesn’t work for me, you know? I can’t see myself that far in the future, if that makes sense? I can’t see myself past next year, let alone when I’m older. And everyone else seems to be able to do this and I just can’t and it just seems like there’s something wrong with me!” You saw him open his mouth at that but you carried on speaking. It was all rushing out. Everything you had held back for so long.

“And… and it’s like, this whole year has just slipped by. I don’t know what I’ve done, and I’m going to be 18 next year, and leave this place, and I just… it’s like I haven’t lived? It’s like my teenage years have rushed past me in this constant worry about grades and school. Not that that has even done any good! I mean, I just failed my mocks and I actually revised this time around. I don’t enjoy anything anymore and I just… Urgh. Sorry. That wasn’t all supposed to come out. I just… I don’t know. I haven’t really let myself say all that to someone before.”

You glanced up at him, expecting a look of shock and horror. A look of regret for even asking. Why would he even want to deal with the mess that you were?

Instead, he was looking at you with an expression you had never seen on him before. A strange mixture of rawness, concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. He looked younger then, in that moment. The emotions he always kept well hidden were written all across his face. You had never seen him like this before.
It was strange. You had just poured out your soul to him but you felt like you should be the one comforting him instead.

You were still looking into his eyes - transfixed by the stream of thoughts which were flashing behind there.

“Mr TC/N? Are you okay?” you ventured.

He kept looking at you with the same expression, but the emotion you couldn’t quite place was becoming more prominent in his eyes.

He smiled. “Yeah… Yeah. Don’t worry. Just a small flashback into the past, you know?” It was a sad smile.

“Do you want to - I mean, I know you have friends who you’d talk to about stuff and you probably don’t want to talk to me but um, do you want to talk about it?” You looked down quickly.

“Y/N. Why would you think that? Why would I not want to talk to you? You know how much you mean to me!”

You looked up, startled.
Had you just heard that right???

“Don’t look so surprised!” He laughed. “Wasn’t that pretty obvious?”

‘Not to me’, you wanted to reply. 'Not to me, when I always overthink and think the worst and never let myself hope. When I notice that you treat me differently but don’t want to admit it. Because if it’s true, if I am right and you do treat me differently - what would that mean? I’d start to hope. And that? That never works out.’

“I mean… I guess?” you replied instead.

He stared at you. “Y/N. I’ve always connected to you in a strange way. It took me a long time to realise why. But you remind me slightly of how I was at your age. Intelligent but insecure. Opinionated but didn’t like confrontation. Quiet but always thinking. And I also didn’t know what to do, where to go. Hell, I didn’t even want to go to university. I mean, can you believe it, I wanted to drop out at 14 and start a rock band!”

You both laughed at that, imagining him with thick black eyeliner in a screamo concert.

“Hey, it sort of worked out, right? I mean… rock band, DJ - pretty interchangeable?” You nudged his elbow, teasing him. Your confidence around him had grown in the last few minutes and to be honest, you had more to lose if you didn’t say anything.

“Piss off,” he said, smiling. “But yeah, I never knew where to go and what to do. And I could never picture myself that far in the future.
I mean there’d be random moments where I’d think that something would be really cool, but when I tried to picture myself in that position, it would all fall apart.”

You nodded. He was describing everything you had been thinking.

“But that’s not the point. This isn’t about me. I’m just hoping this will help with perspective. Because I’m not the most successful person ever, but, and I’m not exaggerating or lying to you, I really enjoy my life. I love my job. The thing is, it all works out, you know? Shit happens and we deal with it and life goes on. And I think we all forget that at times but, again, don’t take me for someone who’s superstitious and all that, but what I’m trying to say is, if you’re meant to get somewhere, it’ll work out! And every single step there doesn’t have to be perfect or the way you thought it’d be. And so it’s fine for people like us! Better, I’d say! For people who don’t have their lives mapped out, I mean - because we’ll go with the flow and if something happens we deal with it and move on. So don’t ever think there’s something wrong with you. Ever.”

He paused, as if he was thinking about whether to say something.
He apparently decided to.

“And… on the opposite side of that, if something, or, um, someone, comes into our life and makes it better? Then we hold on to them too. Against the odds. Against what we are told is right. We take the risk. Because… thats… um.” He had turned slightly red and seemed to be analysing your expression.

You decided to take the risk.

He was trying to backtrack. “Sorry. Um, I don’t know where that last bit came fro-”

He paused and looked down at his hand in surprise. His hand - which you had grabbed a hold of and laced your fingers through.
He looked at you - a mixture of shock and relief, and smiled. Everything was in that smile. Relief and shock, yes. But also, hope.

You smiled back.

And without thinking about it too much for once, tilted your head slightly so it rested comfortably on his shoulder.

Call - Taeyang (m)

Originally posted by kpop-biasedx

(Admin: Babyboiii, honestly I like this request like idk why, but I like the thought I got for it.)

You couldn’t express how glad you were Taeyang had called you telling you he needed to see you. You were pretty sure if he had waited any longer to call you, you’d end up jumping him next time you saw him. You pulled your coat on walking from your apartment building to the hotel he told you he’d be at. You knew how these meetups would go down by this point. It had been almost a month since the last one, though, which was unusual for Taeyang, he usually had a schedule he’d keep two when it came to your relations.

You tapped your foot in the elevator impatiently, once the door opened to the floor he was on you checked your phone for the room number as you walked down the hallway finally stopping outside of room 408. You knocked on the door him opening it shortly after, he wasted no time getting you inside of the room and having you against the door his lips moving desperately against your own.

His hand held your cheek his hips pressing your lower half firmly against the door, one of his legs pushing your own apart. He bit your bottom lip sucking the flesh before he pulled away from your lips.

“I’ve missed you baby girl,” your voice caught in your throat, your breathing already heavy. He chuckled, “you’ve missed me too,” he leaned towards your neck sucking harsh marks onto the skin.

His name fell past your lips, your hands holding onto his shoulders, he hummed smirking against your neck. He pulled the zipper of your jacket down pulling it from your shoulders his lips never leaving your neck. His hands ran under the bottom of your shirt running up your sides, He finally pulled away from your neck pulling your shirt up, you helped him to get it off of your head, he pulled his own shirt off pressing his now uncovered upper body against your own.

You trailed your hands down his back feeling the way he shivered slightly from your light touch. He pulled you from the door pulling you towards the bed, he pushed you onto the bed him settling his weight on your own afterward. His eyes burned into yours.

“You don’t know how much I need you right now,” his eyes showed sincerity covered in lust, his eyes devoured your upper body.

He rolled his hips down into your own a groan passing his lips, his eyes fluttered to a close as he continued to grind himself onto you. He kept his hips firmly pressed into your own, his eyes opening to stare into your own, his hands hooked under the top of your pants trying to shove them down. You lifted your hips up so he could pull them down. He pulled them off of you harshly, he then tugged your panties down you trailed your hands to his belt undoing it in a teasingly slow manner.

He growled, you finally pulled his belt off, your eyes fluttering up to meet his innocently, he swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Don’t tease me Y’N,” he growled out, you bit the inside of your lip pulling his pants down, you continued to pull his boxers off, he looked down towards your lower half.

His hands held your thighs moving towards your inner thighs he inched one of his hands up until it came in contact with your core.  He pushed your folds apart before pushing two fingers inside of you, you lifted your hips up whining, he chuckled pumping them in a slow teasing manner, like how you had removed his belt. He curled his fingers still pumping them in and out of you. His other hand held your hips down to keep you from bucking into his touch letting him tease you, he suddenly sped up his movements, you covered your mouth with your arm crying out from the sudden pace.

He pulled his fingers from you shortly after bringing them to his mouth licking them clean of your fluids. He leaned over you to the bedside table grabbing a condom, he ripped the packet open with his teeth, he slid the latex over his length before settling his weight on your own, his head burying into your shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance his tip sliding over your folds pushing lightly into them before he finally let himself slide in between your folds. 

He pushed slowly into you, you let out breathy moans of his name, he sighed against your neck once he finally reached the base of his length inside of you. He gave you a minute to adjust before he started to tease you with slow deep thrusts hitting a spot that made you see stars.

“Faster, please,” you breathed out, he chuckled against your neck.

“Be patient baby girl,” he gave a few quicker deep thrusts before slowing to his original pace. 

He eventually lost his control to keep the slow pace he had speeding up with his own need to reach a release. He held tightly onto your hip with one hand the other rubbing rough circles on your swollen clit, you couldn’t help the moans that fell from your mouth, one of your hands clawing down his back.

“Fuck Y’N,” he said breathing heavily against your neck, you felt his member twitch inside of you, the heat from his release in the latex noticeable. Your walls tightened around him your own release coming shortly after, he thrust into you a few more times letting the both of you ride out your orgasms.

“God I missed you,” he pulled himself from you, removing the latex from himself tossing it into the trash. he threw himself onto the bed, “do you want to stay here with me, or are you leaving,” you didn’t move from the bed groaning, he chuckled pulling the blanket over you, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his chest.

“Goodnight Y’N,” you muttered a good night back to him falling asleep shortly after.

(A’N: Yo I hope no one gets mad at me for writing smut about a debut group, but like I mean, it’s not like he’s an illegal member.)

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Lonely and Mischievous

I don’t know what happened, I felt like writing and then this happened.  Sorry.

“You’re still awake?”  Her voice rang through his ears like honey, immediately It’s getting his attention.  Solas tried to force his mind back to his reading, but despite his best efforts, Nira’sal always knew how to draw him right back.  “It’s getting late…shouldn’t you be coming to bed sometime soon?“  And there it was.  Nira’s arms slipped around his shoulders, her chin finding the crook in his neck as she nuzzled up against his cheek. 

Solas smiled, glancing at her without even moving his head.  “I’ll join you in a moment, vhenan.  For now, it is important that I focus on the task at hand.” 

Nira’sal made an audible whine as she moved even closer to him.  Her hot breath tickled his neck sending shivers down his spine as she placed a hand on the book in front of him.  “Shouldn’t you be focusing on me instead?” 

Solas closed his eyes, a soft sigh releasing from his lips.  “If I had the time, you know I would…”  He watched as her head tilted slightly and a smile slid across her features.  She was incorrigible and she was lucky he spent so much time holding himself back.  If he had his way, he would have taken her soon after their little rendezvous in the Fade.  The elf shook the thought from his mind as he looked back toward the book he had been studying.  “There is work to be done.  I cannot be distracted.”

With a giggle, Nira’sal slid her finger under his chin and slowly moved his face in her direction.  “It’s far too late for that.”

The girl turned and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Her smile only widened as she watched him become completely mesmerized by her.  Her simple movements were intoxicating and despite what he knew, he didn’t care.  Whenever he was with her, his plans, the orb, Corypheus, all of his problems seemed to evaporate into thin air.  He was no longer Fen’harel.  He was Solas.  An elf with no home but the Fade itself.  An elf that had somehow gained the attention of another and would not let her go for life itself.  Whatever his plans were before, they didn’t matter.

Solas wrapped his arms around her back, using a finger to move some of the strands of hair from her face as he gazed at her.  The smile that seemed to light up these empty halls was nothing but contagious as he felt his lips curl.  “It’s time for you to take a break, okay?” 

“I suppose I could make some time.  That is if you make it worth my while,” Solas chuckled at her as he slowly lost his resolve.  It was far too late and he was far too tired for her to be looking at him the way she was right now.

Solas bent down and placed a small kiss on her nose.  Before he was even able to pull away from her, Nira pulled him back down to her until his lips crashed into hers.  Her grip around his neck tightened as she kept him there, unable to pull away.  As if he even wanted to…

The warmth of her lips sent a jolt through his body.  It was perfect, she was perfect.  Her breath, her smell, her sounds, every part of her drew him in deeper.  He was already struggling to keep his head above water, but she continued to taunt him.  It wouldn’t be long before he completely lost control of himself.  His hands found themselves under her shirt, his fingers wrapping around the small of her back as he held her.  He just wanted to touch her.  Whatever he had to do to draw her closer.  He needed her closer.

The kiss was far more intense than usual and he had found himself drawn close to the edge before Nira finally pulled back glancing up at him with her that mischevious grin he knew all too well.  “I hope that was worth it enough,” Nira chuckled as she tried to push herself back up to her feet.

Without hesitation, Solas grabbed her hand and playfully pulled her back but she didn’t budge.  “Vhenan, don’t go.”  She stopped, her eyes shifting over to watch him.  She was quiet for a moment, but he could see the change as it happened before him.

Her demeanor suddenly shifted, her eyes growing dark and intense as she glared over at him.  “I didn’t go anywhere.  You were the one that left.”

His eyes opened slowly, painfully aware of exactly where he was.  Once again, he had fallen asleep on his desk, a book laid out in front of him that he had used as a pillow during the night.  Sleep had been a cruel mistress to him.  Before Nira’sal he had been able to use his time while he was asleep to travel to unknown places in the Fade, but now his love haunts his dreams not allowing him to go anywhere else.

His mind was obsessed with her and what he had done to her.  While he knew he had to keep his mind focused on what he must do, he found himself thinking of her even more during those times.  The feeling of her warm lips on his haunted his dreams and despite the fact, he yearned for that feeling.  Even if his dreams ended with her glaring at him.  He deserved it.  She was alone and in pain and that was because of him.  He should have never gotten involved with her.

Her melodic chuckle rang through his mind.  A sound that sent a wave of loneliness over him.  Solas frowned, placing his head back on the desk as he allowed himself to be crushed by those very waves.  All he could do was close his eyes and hope that once again she would grace his dreams.

More of my writing can be found here!

Fen’harel enansal

Something More than Love - Pt. 2 (SSC/Rosvolio)

Please forgive how long this took…life got abruptly crazy this week.  This turned out very differently than I originally planned, but please let me know what you think!

Awareness returned to Benvolio slowly; he knew not how long he’d slept, only that it was not nearly long enough.  His body ached, and the sweet call of sleep tried to draw him in once more. He very nearly obeyed…until he opened his eyes to the overwhelming beauty of Rosaline Capulet, still wrapped in his arms.

Propriety would have him distance himself from her immediately.  Propriety would have him wake her, apologize, and remove himself from her presence.  Well…propriety would not have seen them sharing a bed to begin with, but he was not one to deny the earnest request of his betrothed.  

Formerly betrothed.  Now that so much had happened, it would stand to reason that the Prince would end the betrothal; likely already had.  This would be the only opportunity Benvolio had to see his beloved such: untouched by the worry and cruelty of their lives, vulnerable, serene.  He could not resist the temptation to reach out and trace the lines of her jaw, as if to commit them to memory for drawing or painting once they return to some semblance of normalcy…once she is surely whisked away from him forever.

A soft hum alerted the young Montague to Rosaline’s own return to waking, and her warm eyes fluttered open slowly.  As he watched, a myriad of emotions played across her face, most too quickly for him to identify.  Just as he began to wonder if she regretted lying beside him, though, she settled on undeniable contentment.  “Benvolio…” Her gentle smile grew when he simply made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes returning to his fingers as they moved into her hair.  “You are still here.”

“It will not be willingly that I abandon this moment with you, Rosaline,” he admitted, surprised by his own candidness.  “Not when we have at last found a moment of peace from all of it.”

“All of what?” Her tease was little more than an exhale; she knew as well as he what they deserved peace from.

“Besides…the moment we step back into the presence of our Sovereigns, everything will change.  The Prince will not likely allow our lives to continue as they had been going.”  Rosaline’s face fell, and she reached out to place her palm against his cheek.  Benvolio nuzzled into her touch, grief tightening his chest.

“And if the direction our lives had been taking were the direction I wished to pursue?”

Hope warred with helplessness, and he drew her closer to press a kiss to her forehead.  “My heart is yours, dearest Rosaline…but we have been subjected to the Prince’s command once before.  We do not know what he will do once this war is over…if we survive.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you do 31 and 47 with Jungkook? Preferably a male reader. I noticed you don’t generally do male readers, but it would mean a lot.

Prove it

Male Reader x Jungkook

Words: 787

Genre: fluff

A/N- this is my first time writing for a male reader, so go easy on me. I hope you like it, sprinkle.

Originally posted by nochuie

Things with Jungkook were never easy. Friendships are supposed to be effortless in the beginning, but your friendship with Jeon Jungkook only seemed to have started off as hard and gotten increasingly harder.

You met at one of those awkward dorm orientations. You know the ones where they force all the new freshmen students to mingle and pretend like they’ll be friends for the next millennium? He was awkwardly leaned against the rec room wall, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else, until he spotted you.

“Finally, someone I might actually get along with,” he joked, a sincere look of relief in his eyes. He noticed that you were wearing a Starcraft shirt and the two of you spent the remainder of the mandatory event in deep conversation. The rest was history.

Very, very cliche history. Boy meets boy and falls in love with not so gay boy kind of cliche history.

Jungkook was a fellow graphics design major, with hopes of furthering his studies into video game graphics design. The two of you shared four out of five of your college courses together. His easy going attitude and cute bunny smile lured you right into his group of friends, and after two whole semesters of memories it was safe to say there was no going back. Even if you weren’t in love with him.

The problem with your and Jungkook’s relationship is that he’s straight, and you’re not- something that was painfully clear the longer the two of you knew each other. Or at least you thought it was.

You tried super hard to distance yourself from him in the beginning, dating a few people to keep your mind off of how you wanted to screw your best friend, but his magnetic personality proved to be no match for you. And what started off as a silly crush escalated faster than you could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s going on in that pea-sized brain of yours?” He laughed, pausing his game to look over at you curiously.

“Nothing,” you blinked, a slow smile covering your previously downcast look. He looked as if he was going to call you out on your bullshit, but a text alert diverted his attention.

“Looks like Hyori didn’t get enough of me last Friday,” he chuckled, licking his lips as he typed a reply. “She just asked if I wanted to come study.”

“We both know study is a code for sex,” you laughed, ignoring the twinge of jealousy in your chest. “Hyori hasn’t studied a day in her life.”

“Exactly,” he winked. “Bitches love me.”

“You did not just say that,” you gawked, slinging one of his pillows at the back of his head.

“It’s true,” he shrugged, unpausing the game.

And it was true. Jungkook definitely had a long track record. Especially when it came to upperclassmen. Noonas fell for JK’s bunny charms like no other girls on campus. That was the problem.

Doesn’t make you any better at playing Overwatch,” you scoffed, watching as his team got wrecked.

“It’s not possible for me to get any better at Overwatch,” he shot back, before growling as his team lost the match. He threw the control down on the bed with a scowl. “Y/n can I ask you something?”

He was nibbling on his lip, paying more attention to the cellphone in his hand than your face. You sighed, “shoot.”

“How come you’ve never hit on me?”

Your heart dropped. Was he serious? What kind of freaking question is that? “Because you’re straight?” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You were confused on how your conversation had even gotten to this point. Jungkook was 100% comfortable with you talking about your hook-ups, but for the most part, he didn’t ask questions.

“What makes you say that?” He chuckled, leaning to lie down on his bed and look up at you. His hands toyed with the string on your sock, your heart racing. Was he just fucking with you right now?

“The long list of women you’ve slept with this semester and the lack of dudes on your have-boned list.” You sassed, moving your foot away from his long fingers.

“Just because I don’t talk about it all the time like you do, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. You should know better than anyone that someone doesn’t have to have a preference.” He was looking up at you smugly, as if challenging you to tell him why you were suddenly so uncomfortable.

The room felt like it had gotten twenty degrees hotter, your skin burning with embarrassment. “You’re so full of shit, Kook.”

What if I prove you wrong?” His voice was but a whisper, the deepness of it causing you to gulp loudly.

“I’d say I’d like to see you try.”

You knew he was dead serious when he reached up and pulled you down to his lips in an awkward upside down kiss, his fists wound tightly in your collar. Jungkook was very rarely serious, but he knew when to draw the line- and this was so over the line.

His lips tasted like the melon soda he had been drinking, his tongue dragging across your lips as he begged for you to let him in, but you pulled away.

“Have I proved it already?” He pouted, rolling onto his stomach, and pushing himself onto his hands and knees so you were the same height.

“Not in the slightest,” you chuckled, pulling him to you by the back of his neck, smirking at his hum of approval.



Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes sat in an uncomfortable high backed chair in his brother’s drawing room. The only light source the flickering flames in the fireplace, causing the consulting detective’s face to be bathed in dancing shadows. His hands were placed together at the palms, fingertips resting on his Cupid’s bow mouth, eyebrows drawn together over his unfocused stormy blue-green eyes.

Sherlock Holmes couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. He couldn’t stop the deluge of information from spiraling nonstop in his brain. His mind palace was in shambles from the onslaught on data it had received in such a short period of time, the walls threatening to crumble, doors in danger of falling right off the hinges, files and cases in flutters of paper like flakes of snow in a blizzard. He stood at the entrance of his mind palace, staring down the hallway, watching papers blow about in an unseen wind. He knew he needed to start sorting out the mess in his head before it got out of control and he lost all form of organization, knew he should be trying to categorize the events of the last forty-eight hours, but the door at the very end of this particular corridor was calling to him.

He knew where he had to go. He knew whom he must see within the labyrinthine halls of his extensive memory. He knew he needed to open the shaking door and face her. But…

Sherlock Holmes was terrified of what he might find in his subconscious.

The door at the end of the corridor rattled violently on its hinges, the handle twisting and turning as who was behind it tried to force her way out. Steeling himself for a subconscious confrontation, Sherlock started to move towards the door, his mind altering the layout of the halls, forcing the door to meet him halfway, his hand inches from the rattling handle…

“You know you must talk to her, brother mine.” Mycroft’s voice interrupted.

Sherlock came crashing back to reality, blinking the dryness from his eyes; a result of not blinking for such a long period of time. He sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“I know,” Sherlock admitted, not bothering to face his older brother.

Mycroft walked over to the chair opposite Sherlock and sat down heavily. Sherlock flicked a glance his brother’s way, noticing the dark circles under Mycroft’s eyes, the new lines that seemed to find their way onto his face overnight, and the way his waistcoat hung more loosely on him than it had before.

“However hard that must have been at Sherrinford, you must explain to her what happened. Even I know that.” Mycroft said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Sherlock asked in a low voice, folding his arms across his chest, staring deep into the dancing flames before him.

“Explain it to her as you see fit, brother mine.” Mycroft said, staring at the flames for a moment before looking at Sherlock. “But I do suggest that perhaps you should start with the truth.”

“The truth,” Sherlock scoffed. “And how would I even begin to explain that I have a long lost sister, whose memories I repressed because she is psychotic. She has killed numerous people just for the hell of it, became best friends with Moriarty after five minutes worth of conversation, somehow snuck out of a maximum security island prison twice, tried to seduce John, and then became his therapist under a different disguise, and helped me find the most dangerous serial killer in all of London. Oh, and she killed my childhood best friend when she was a child herself, and because of the trauma, I changed my very human friend into a dog in my memories.”

Sherlock clenched his jaw and glared at the flames, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“I see your dilemma,” sighed Mycroft.

Sherlock gripped the arms of the chair with his long white fingers and leaned towards Mycroft.

“Do not pretend for one moment that you even understand feelings, Mycroft.” He spat. “You were there; you saw what Eurus did to me. To her.” Sherlock jumped to his feet and began to pace, his anger causing white hot energy to scream through his veins.

How could so much change in such a short amount of time? Sherlock thought, dragging his hands roughly through his hair. Nothing in the last forty-eight hours made sense to him. How could he go from his biggest problem being a double murder late at night, to having a psychotic sister all of the sudden?

Things were so much simpler before Mary died. Before the Culverton Smith fiasco.

Before Sherrinford.

Just a month before Sherlock’s ill fated journey to the London Aquarium, he had let himself into Molly’s flat with the intention of using her spare bedroom as a quiet place to think, when he found himself standing next to her bed. As always, Molly gave him what he needed without him having to actually ask, and he had fallen asleep with the small pathologist wrapped in his arms.

What had become the norm for them changed completely when Mary died, and Sherlock had lost John Watson’s friendship for a while. He could still remember how sadly Molly had looked at him, standing outside the Watsons’ door, holding their goddaughter. It was such a sharp contrast to the laughing, comfortable Molly that had stood beside him at little Rosie’s christening, jokingly reprimanding him for giving his phone more attention than his goddaughter.

The day she had given him the note from John, had repeated John’s hurtful words to him, was the last time he had seen her sober.

The night he showed up to her flat, high from a mixture of cocaine and morphine, she had taken one look at his stubbled jaw and unkempt hair, and slammed the door soundly in his face. He had left her a note (slid underneath her door) asking to please meet him at the following address in two weeks’ time. Three days later he received a text from her. It was short and to the point, saying she would be there.

She refused to answer any of his following messages. And refused to talk to him the whole drive to meet with Culverton Smith, except her outburst when John had shown up.

“For Christ’s sake, Sherlock! It’s not a game!” she had practically screamed at him.

He looked at her, properly, for the first time since she had slammed the door in his face. Sherlock noticed the dark circles under her eyes, how limp her hair seemed. Her face was drawn, and her nails were shorter where she had bitten them.

“I’m worried about you, Molly.” Sherlock said, looking closer at her, trying to see through the haze of the drugs in his system. “You seem very stressed…”

Molly threw him a dirty look. “I’m stressed, you’re dying!” she spat venomously.

He couldn’t resist getting a jab in, not in his altered state.

“Yeah, well, I’m ahead, then.” He said, his eyes flashing for just a moment.

The look she gave him haunted him for the next month.

All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before, when everything was simple, and his actions went unquestioned. He just wanted to let himself into Molly’s flat whenever he felt like it, wanted to slide into her bed and wrap her in his arms and get some actual sleep. He wanted to-

“Oh!” Sherlock exclaimed, halting in his pacing.

His outburst woke Mycroft, who had dozed off in his chair. He looked wildly around, before his eyes settled on his little brother. Sherlock was still as a statue, eyes wide.

After ten minutes of Sherlock staring unblinkingly at nothing in particular, Mycroft decided to break the silence.

“Care to inform me what I could’ve missed, that you have somehow deduced?” Mycroft drawled.

“This is my fault.” Sherlock murmured, still staring straight ahead, lost in his mind.

“Your fault?” Mycroft asked. “Sherlock, we have discussed this. This whole matter of Eurus, of what happened at Sherrinford, everything, none of it is your fault. You were a child when it started-“

“No, Mycroft! Molly! Eurus choosing Molly for her demented little game. That was all my fault!” Sherlock said, snapping his eyes to Mycroft.

Mycroft closed his mouth and looked at his younger brother with wide eyes.

Of course! Thought Sherlock. It was his own entire fault! Why else did Moriarty choose unassuming little Mousey Molly Hooper to get close to him? Why not choose John? Or Mrs. Hudson? Or even Lestrade? The answer was simple. Sherlock was always telling John that he never observed, and after all this time, it was Sherlock who chose not to observe what was right in front of his face.

Molly Hooper mattered most.

The years he had been using her flat as a bolt hole. All the years he would sprawl on her couch, or go through her fridge, or do experiments in her bathtub. All the nights they would share meals together (Molly being the only one who could actually convince Sherlock to eat on a semi-regular basis), or watch crap telly. All the days he would actually clean up after himself while he was at her flat because she liked things neat, whereas he would leave a trail of destruction at his own.

And now, most recently, all the nights he fell asleep content to just be holding Molly in his arms.

How long had the cameras Eurus used been in Molly’s flat? Half a year? A year? Two? Five? Did it really matter? One week of watching footage from Molly and Sherlock’s interactions would have been more than enough for someone as smart as his sister to deduce how he felt about her.

The one person, they thought who didn’t count, mattered most of all.

And it had been used against him.

Sherlock realized that he kneeling on the floor, not quite remembering how he ended up getting there. He looked up from his hands to Mycroft, eyes wide and full of doubt and questions.

“What do I do, Mycroft?” Sherlock asked in a strained voice, looking to Mycroft very much like his baby brother from childhood.

Mycroft looked back at him, and for once the older brother’s face held none of its usual contempt.

“What you must.” Mycroft replied.

The biggest of shoutouts to @forthe for making this actually readable, you are the best proof reader that has ever existed! And to @moll for her invaluable ideas, thank you for putting up with my seven million emails a day! A huge thanks to both of you for your continuous encouragement, because without your support, my writing would never see the light of day. And thank you, readers, for your continued kind words about my fics, y'all are the best!!