cloudy memory

Home Series, Part Eight

Pairings: Peter Quill x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: mild language, angst

A/N: This was only suppose to be a very long one shot. 

Summary: Your best friend in the whole galaxy is coming to visit to help out with Thanos. When he arrives, Steve finds himself jealous of the close relationship Peter and you have. Will this stop the man from telling you how he feels? Will old feelings be brought up once Peter arrives? Does first love truly fade?    Part One   Part Two  Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

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Place The Blame On Fayecastle

Dan and Phil had broken up over 6 years ago. There hadn’t been anything since then. No phone call, no text, just nothing. Until now, apparently. Because now Dan was in the bookshop with fairly lights adorning the walls and Phil was standing in front of him and everything had come crashing down once again.

word count: 4,282

triggers: drinking, mentions of self harm, mentions of mental illnesses such as depression and anxiety, mentions of rape, mentions of physical abuse, slight body dysphoria

ao3 link.  read pt.1 here (You can read this without reading the first part! It will still make sense dw.)

This was written for a competition ( @phanficwritingcomp​ )

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We’re here now: Archie Andrews x Reader Imagine

Summary: (might have spoilers for your reading) Y/N is drawn to a a familiar sound whilst someone performs songs for a small old-school pub in Riverdale. As the mystery guy starts to play a song Y/N’s boyfriend made her in high school, it is only possible it’s Y/N’s high school love Archie Andrews. They have a talk about what their future will look like and will they be in each other’s.

Word count: 1,335

Author: oharchiekinss  / I really liked writing this but I feel like the ending was really rushed as I don’t have much time to write. Tell me if you want part 2 of this and if you have any ideas for what could happen next for Y/N and Archie the please send me a message or a request.

You can feel the bass shaking the ground beneath you as you walk through the alleyways of clubs and bars on a Saturday night. The lights start to slowly fade as you walk further away from your office, now closer to your apartment. You had spent the whole night working on some papers and the frustration of your selfish boss drained you. You needed some time to calm down, away from your messy, paper filled office.
You walk past the last pubs of the street, as you hear a faint guitar playing with a soft voice vocalizing over. You walk backwards a bit and listen outside the door of the old-school pub. The chords and melody of the song brings back a cloudy memory of you childhood but you couldn’t tell what. You start to get more interested and head down the steep stairway into an underground bar as the music got louder and louder. He sounded extremely familiar to you, and it brought you a weird and surprising feeling of belonging and safety. You step into the full pub and approach the stage walking through the crowd of people drinking at their tables. You tried to get a look at the artist singing and playing the guitar but all you could see were his hands lightly strum the guitar as the people in the front row stood up in front of him swaying to the melody.
You listen to the soft sound of his guitar until he finishes the song. The crowd claps loud and cheers at him. He speaks up with a very familiar voice in to the microphone, “This is the last song. I wrote this for my girlfriend in high school, I thought she would always be there but our paths parted. I hope you have a good night and enjoy this last song”. People awe at the thought of his high school sweetheart and look at each other. You smile as you remember how your boyfriend used to write you songs and sing them to you at the back of his dad’s truck at 3am and the conversations couldn’t and wouldn’t ever leave that truck, it was just you and him.
He starts to play a light melody with an undertone of sad chords, with his fingers picking at the strings. A sudden wave of comfort rushes over you. He starts to sing and his voice is soft but strong as you hear him sing out of his heart. You catch yourself predicting the lyrics and slightly singing along. Why do you know this song? He just mentioned that it was personal?
You start to head towards the stage in confusion. You lightly push someone out of the way in the crowd to see who is singing this, “Excuse me.” You push through to see the stage and look up at the redheaded singer with strong features as he passionately strums the guitar.
“Archie?” you say out loud, loud enough for him to hear and look up at you. He is startled but continues to sing and keep eye contact with you the whole song. You mouth the lyrics with a lump in your throat as the pleasant and unpleasant memories fill your mind. People look at you in confusion as they follow his gaze. You leave to go outside to get some fresh air. The stone cold stares of people cause you to feel like the walls are caving in. And seeing Archie, your high school love’s face again after 5 years has made it hard for you to think or do anything.
You sit outside in front of the pub catching your breath. Your eyes concentrate on the wet road and how the streetlights lightly reflect a sparkle off of the surface. As you settled your breathing and zoned out watching the quiet street, you hear someone quietly call out your name, “Y/N?”.
You jump a bit as it snaps you out of your dreamy state and you see Archie standing at the door of the pub. He had grown a lot. He was now tall enough to tower over you, he was very toned and his shoulders were broad. Seeing him made you feel safe and comfortable even if he had changed, as his fiery red hair and his chocolate brown eyes were ageless.  He sits down next to you and you both look at each other with amazement.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, huh? What are you doing here?” He asks as you still are in a zone of amazement. You manage to gather yourself and respond. “I… uh live here. I work in the office building for a magazine, nothing special. What about you?”.
“I work with my dad’s company, but I like performing in the local pubs everyone once in a while.”
You look at him in confusion. The whole 2 months you had been living back in your childhood town Riverdale, you haven’t ran into him.
“You said in high school that working for your dad is the last thing you want to do? Following in his footsteps? I thought you were going to stay in New York?” you say a bit worried frowning at Archie.
“I was naive. No one could take better care of the company after him other than me, and I get to perform on the side… Why did you come back? You hated this place…”, he says now looking at the street that you were drawn to earlier, because of it’s mesmerizing shimmer.
“I don’t know… I guess I feel like this is the only place I belong. This is where I grew up, where I had my first friends… my first love”. Archie looks up at you with a smirk and nods as you continue, “Wherever I went I felt empty, like it was missing something. The school I went to wasn’t Riverdale High, the food I ate wasn’t from Pop’s, The people I talked to weren’t Betty, Veronica, Kevin, Jughead and the person I tried to love… wasn’t you, Archie.” He looks up at you in surprise but with a very loving and understanding gaze. He takes your hand carefully to see your reaction and you let him. He held your hand in his and the memory of you in his truck talking for hours and cuddling started to overload your mind.
“Y/N, We have grown. What we had might have been just a silly high school crush… or it could have been real and we were two kids in love. Ever since we decided to put our own lives over each other’s, I have felt out of place and distant from everyone and everything.”
You look up at him and squeeze his hand tighter in your lap. He had grown and your conversation was so mature, which was quite a new experience.
He continued, “We were apart and I have tried my best to get over you, but after years of trying to forget you, I have learnt it’s the best for me to just let you be apart of my past and eventually you have become a pleasant memory to think of, rather than the worst heartbreak I have experienced”, you both chuckled at his dramatic feelings towards the old relationship, but at the back of your mind you knew everything he said was true and you had gone through the same process.
He pulls you in closer, “But seeing you now, in reach. I can see you, hear you, speak to you… touch you. I can’t help but feel like I’m a fool for you once again.” You look at him shaking your head and smiling. “Andrews… Never fails to make me love him more… But, we have grown apart and we were so far away, what if we are different and we…“ he quickly pulls you into a soft kiss before you managed to finish your sentence. A strand of his soft red hair falls onto his face as he pulls away from you and you look into his capturing eyes.
We’re here now.”

Diabolik Lovers - Vampire’s first dream of the New Year

holy heck!! I translated a thing!! I found this short story from a Dengeki Girl’s Style scan and decided to give it a shot. It’s really funny!! >:D There might be a few mistakes, but I worked really hard!! Please correct me if you see anything wrong!

Kou: Shu-kun, are you awake-?

Shu: ……Ngh

Laito: Shu-, hey Shu!

Shu: ……

Kou: Shuuuu-kuuuun!

Shu: …Nn…You’re loud, what is it- Cold……! Where is this place……?

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Love and Manuscripts (10)

Sorry for how late this is! Got caught up this weekend. Previous chapters are listed here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9


Simon sat down on his couch and sighed. It was only eight o’clock but by the middle of the workweek Simon was always exhausted. Wearily he pulled out his edits and leafed through them to make sure they were all there. He would need to have all his work prepared in order to present at the meeting tomorrow. It wasn’t a real meeting of course (though he’d sat in on one before). Penelope wanted to do a demo meeting in which Simon and Baz would haggle with her for print amounts and sale promotions. The manuscript was actually just a novella one of the office assistants had handed over to help Penelope train the newbies.
He frowned as he realized he had a few of Baz’s notes mixed into his own. It wasn’t a big deal; they’d already discussed their strategy for tomorrow. But a part of him nagged that he should return it to Baz, that it was somehow vital for his night-before preparation. He knew why he felt this way; he just wanted an excuse to go see Baz. It was ridiculous of him and he knew he should give up on his crush. But still…the idea intrigued him.
Quickly he ran to his car before he could change his mind about the whole thing. He used his cloudy memory from the day after the office party to find Baz’s house. When he arrived he did a double take.
In his drunkenness and subsequent hangover Simon had forgotten just how big Baz’s place was. He wondered if he lived by himself in there. Simon contemplated texting Baz but thought better of it. Baz would probably just tell him to leave and give him the notes in the morning, stupid prat that he was.
Simon grimaced as he used the heavy brass knocker. There was the sound of footsteps and then a woman dressed in a formal looking uniform answered the door.
“Can I help you?”
Simon worked to hide his surprise.
“Um, I’m here to see Baz.”
“Ah yes, come in. What is your name?”
He walked into the house and couldn’t help but feel he had just stepped into a spider’s den.
“Simon Snow.”
She nodded, “Please wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Simon turned to look at the ornate paintings on the wall as he tried to ignore a muffled conversation coming from down the hall. He watched as the woman came back with a man. The man was tall with sleek white hair and a harsh face.
He stepped forward and offered Simon his hand, which Simon accepted nervously.
“Welcome to my home Simon Snow. My name is Malcolm Grimm. Please come join me in the library.”
Simon frowned but did as he was asked. When they entered the library he did a double take. The room was huge and filled wall to wall with ancient looking books. He had a feeling he wouldn’t find his favorite modern sci-fi novel in this setting. Baz sat with his back to them, playing the violin.
The song was a very sad one; it reminded Simon of being lonely. But Baz played impressively, so impressively that Simon couldn’t speak for fear of interrupting him. Eventually the song ended and Baz sagged forward, revealing the effort that had gone into the song.
“Bravo Basilton,” Malcolm cheered.
Baz jumped and turned to look at them both. Based off of Baz’s dumbfounded expression Simon realized that he had not been informed of Simon’s arrival. Quickly Baz’s face went blank and he smiled politely.
“Father, I see you’ve met my co-worker, Mr. Snow.”
Father? Simon wondered. He glanced once again at Malcolm and took in the stiff posture and overall coldness of the man; yes he could see the resemblance between them in the attitude.
“I have. Not a very talkative fellow.”
“Not, not a loquacious one indeed,” Baz replied crisply.
“Um,” Simon broke in, “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I just wanted to bring by your notes for the meeting tomorrow. They got mixed up with mine for some reason.”
Baz glanced at him, his eyes hiding anger in their depth.
“Thank you for the consideration.”
This was a mistake Simon realized.
“Father, why wasn’t I fetched sooner?”
His father strode forward and clapped his shoulder harshly.
“You were busy playing. I felt it best to let you finish.”
Malcolm and Baz exchanged a strange glance and then Malcolm nodded.
“Well I’ll leave you boys to it. Let me know if you need anything Simon.”
“Thank you,” Simon mumbled.
After Malcolm left, Simon stood silently, waiting to face whatever Baz would hurl at him. Baz simply stared at him.
After a minute Simon cleared his throat.
“Ah, here you go then. I guess I should leave.”
He placed the notes on the grand piano in the corner of the room.
“What are you doing here?” Baz asked quietly.
Simon paused on his way out of the room and swallowed nervously.
“Dropping off your notes, like I said.”
“Like you said,” Baz repeated.
Simon glanced away.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt a visit from your father.”
“You didn’t. He lives here.”
Simon’s gaze swung back to meet Baz’s.
Baz shrugged, “Sure. Him and his wife. And my siblings. This is my family estate.”
Simon let this new information sink in. He had never imagined someone as clever and cold as Baz living at home with his folks. It seemed to go against his nature.
“Oh. Okay then,” Simon felt awkward.
“Please call the next time you decide to stop by,” Baz said sharply, “I don’t need to further anger my father.”
“Anger?” Simon had thought Malcolm seemed cheery; well, as cheery as someone as cold as him could be.
“He doesn’t much appreciate attractive young men coming by in the odd hours of the night.”
“Why not?” Simon asked.
“Because he doesn’t much appreciate my being gay,” Baz replied, point blank.
Simon felt blood rush to his face. He hadn’t realized his visit might be so transparent, even to someone like Baz’s father.
“I-I wasn’t…I don’t think he knows that I…” Simon trailed off uselessly.
“That you like me?”
Simon swallowed loudly. When he didn’t respond Baz strode forward and kissed him abruptly. Simon made a small noise of surprise but didn’t fight Baz. He had come here to be closer to Baz after all, and now he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted.
Baz was kissing Simon desperately, clacking Simon’s teeth in an effort to push his tongue deeper into his mouth. Eventually Simon had to break away to gasp for breath.
“Baz…I thought…what about last time?”
“Shut up,” Baz growled and bit Simon’s neck harshly.
Simon let his breath out in a hiss.
“You came here for me, well now you have me.”
With that Simon stopped asking questions and started focusing on Baz’s mouth.

Short Story: Do Traitors Dream of Institute Sheep

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It hits him when he’s deep underground, backed into Listening Point Bravo and sitting on a Pre-War army trunk, head in his hands and fingers threaded through his sweaty hair. It strikes like a powered fist to the temple, like the sudden drop of a vertibird going down, like hearing the whistle of a mini nuke flying right for you. Sudden, explosive, crippling.

Where do I begin?

Danse remembers, through the cloudy haze of old memories, Rivet City. Remembers the junk stand he’d thrown together with the his meager caps. He remembers being hungry, being dirty, being small and scared and abandoned. No parents, no siblings. Completely alone.

And then there was Cutler.

Cutler, on that cool D.C. day, where he’d slapped a solid hand down on Danse’s bony shoulder, holding tight and giving it a reassuring shake. Cutler, with a big smile that stretched ear to ear, with little dimples in his dark cheeks. Cutler, with a pubescent voice and protruding Adam’s apple that bobbed when he talked.

“Next time, go a li’l higher and you’ll knock the wind outta ’em. But that was real clever, dumpin’ that oil behind ya to make ’em slip. I would’a never thought of that. Name’s Cutler, by the way. What about you?”

That day changed everything. At last, Danse had a real, true friend, and they practically lived in each other’s pockets. They went scavenging together, managed the stand together, slept back to back. Their lives were irrevocably intertwined. Because of Cutler, he survived. Their combined efforts brought in enough caps to keep their lips wet and their bellies full. It was not a good life, nor an easy one. But it was no longer a lonely one. It was theirs.

Then the Brotherhood arrived.

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<The Blue Star> by Kim Ryeowook

Thoughtlessly, I looked up
Your face, sparkling bright

Like those memories when we laughed and cried 
Like those times when we were together

Are you doing well without any troubles? 
I asked casually

You, who looked up thoughtlessly  
Do you still remember my voice?

Like the warm wind
Like the cloudy memories

I hope you are doing well without any troubles
I hope we will meet again casually


I Don’t Do Tequila

Summary: A dry spell and a drunken one night stand leave you in a tough predicament with your best friend.

Words: 1,020

Sam x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, drinking

A/N: If you have a nickname, put that in the name box! If not, real name works just fine too :)

Your name: submit What is this?

You had been going through a bit of a dry spell, as far as bedroom activities were concerned.

The main problem was lack of time.

You were hunting monster after monster, creature after creature, and really, you didn’t have much time to find anyone; to do anything.

Whenever you finished a hunt, Sam and Dean would go to a bar, sometimes finding a girl for ‘company’ (although that was more often Dean than Sam), but you would be too tired, heading back to the motel to get some sleep before your best friend came in and ‘quietly’ slammed the door… Sam really wasn’t the most quite of a roommate, but it was sort of a routine.

Until one week, you just needed to go out and drink.

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All Wrapped Up In You

Five times Bitty wears Jack’s flannel and one time he doesn’t. 



Bitty’s being gently shaken awake and he hates it.

He’s not sure where he is or what time it is. All he can remember is getting a pie out of the oven and then everything was hot and blurry and now there’s a hand on his shoulder and a concerned voice in his ear.

He groans and just barely opens his eyes. He has something warm wrapped around his shoulders and he clings to it.

Jack sits down on the coffee table and looks at him through narrowed eyes. He looks a little sweaty and flushed in that ratty, old sweatshirt that Bitty pretends to hate.

“Bitty. Are you okay?”

“No,” Bitty mumbles, voice muffled by a pillow.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

He had no idea he was on the couch. He’s horrified and makes a series of noises into the pillow until Jack tilts his head away from the fabric. His fingers are cool against his own overheated skin.

“Got really hot and dizzy,” Bitty tells him, “needed to lie down.”

“You couldn’t make it upstairs?”

“Too many stairs,” he whispers through chattering teeth. He remembers looking up at them and shaking his head before he crawled onto the couch. He remembers Jack’s shirt hanging over over the arm of it and grabbing it on his way down.

“Are you cold?”

“I was hot then cold and your shirt was on the couch so….used to be a blanket here but…I don’t know.”

Bitty closes his eyes as Jack leans over him.

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your tune

Oh darling, oh dear,
All of the gentle and sweet and powerful things I could once say.
Once long ago when
When we sang in tune, our songs the same.
But mine? Not mine.
I learned to sing your song as well as I could
I found the bars, the chords, the rhythm, the beat.
Oh no, oh well
I would lose the pace, lose your face
In cloudy memory
But away, away, away and I let go
I forget your song
I must go on today and find my own melody.
And you will be left alone chirping sorrows.
Blushing words
The words will find their own way free
Singing new songs
My lying tuned tone wasn’t so long ago though was it?
Two days only.
Two days only that pass so slowly
Two days ago but it feels the same as two years.

Do you remember two years ago? 

maybe there’s some way to disconnect fitz so that he doesn’t remember being in the framework at all. or so that it makes his memories cloudy, like nothing more than a bad dream. that would be the nicest option. like letting him unwatch a horror movie. Maybe they can TAHITI those memories away. Heh. 

I just hope he gets back to reality and knows who he is and where he is.

I still think it’s possible.

anonymous asked:

Okay but how about Alpha WS Bucky being extremely protective of Omega Steve who has reverted back to his original size after being I heated with something and having to carefully guide Steve throw his heat like back in the day . Basically just size kink, angst, and fluff !!!!


btw, I won’t really be active for the next couple of months, because of a family trip (which is pretty much why I wasn’t all that active this past month either, lots of preparing) but I hope a 5,000-odd word fic is enough to make up for my absence! -Jenna

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Vienna, Austria

Unconditionally (Part 4)

Genre: angst, smut

Word Count: 3444

The final part of Unconditionally :’( It’s bittersweet that it’s over, but thank you all for reading it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Red roses covered the silken sheets that were draped around your limbs. So, this was paradise. A warm body pressed into your back, a hand coming to caress your hair. You felt his breath against your ear, skin tingling at his proximity.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Jimin.”

You woke up with a start, forehead beaded with sweat and chest heaving rapidly. The darkness of your bedroom invaded your eyes and you looked down to see a strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist. There were no roses, no silk sheets.

“Are you awake already?” Jin’s groggy voice startled you back to reality. Your back was pressed to his chest and he pulled you closer to him, placing a feather light kiss on the nape of your neck. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, glad he couldn’t see the longing expression it held. You were going to have to get used to this. You needed to love Jin.

So that was your life for the next year. Jin was a few years older than you, but you were mature so you never felt the age gap. Until you began dating. Jin was such a pure soul, his desires were so innocent. He would often talk of getting married, having a large family with two girls that looked like you and two boys that would look like him. He wanted a white-picket fence and a manicured garden, a porch with a dog, the children running around the lawn. That wasn’t your dream. You always brushed off the topic because you knew saying yes meant getting rid of the idea of Jimin forever and you weren’t ready for that. Even though you had had no word of Jimin, you still had that terrible shred of hope. Jimin had gone off the grid. You never saw him; he had even stopped hanging out with Taehyung and Jungkook, who had quickly lost interest in you. Jimin had become an enigma and you craved even just a glimpse of him.

But that left you more time with Jin. He would make you breakfast every morning, bringing a neat tray of orange juice and pancakes straight to your bed. His face lit up at the way your eyes widened, still bleary from sleep, at the sight of breakfast and he would sip his coffee contentedly, wrapped up in blankets next to you. Jin would drive you to class, make you dinner, buy you gifts for no reason at all. He treated you like a princess and you felt bad for him. He gave you his all and you barely gave him a piece of your heart, but you needed him, he was your rock. There would be days he would need you too.

“Happy Anniversary!” Jin said in a sing-song voice, uncovering his hands from your eyes to let you see the decadent cake he had made for you. Shit. It was your 6 month anniversary and you had completely forgotten about it. What was worse, this wasn’t your first time forgetting something like this too. But Jin never held it against you.

“Thank you so much, I love it,” you gushed pulling him into a kiss after he spooned a piece of the rich cake into your mouth. His kisses were sweet, just like him, and his lips tasted like vanilla. Jin deepened the kiss, hoisting you up on the kitchen counter so you were at his height. His lips moved slowly and appreciatively over yours, as if you were a fine wine. His hand dropped from your face to your hips, pulling you closer to his body. His fingers ran down the smooth skin of your thighs and your heart sped up as his hands stopped to skim the waistband of your shorts. Things had never gone this far before. Your breath hitched and your arms tightened their loose grip around his shoulders. He sensed how you immediately froze up and stopped to look up at you, concern flooding his doe eyes.

“I am so sorry, I was moving too fast,” he apologized, guilt filling his voice. He shouldn’t be apologizing, it’s you that’s the problem, you thought to yourself.

“N-no, I’m fine,” you said flustered, cheeks burning red as you grabbed his hands from where they had fallen at his sides to hook around the waistband of your shorts.

“I will never do anything you’re not ready for,” he reiterated in a calm voice, removing his hands and cupping your face affectionately. He pulled your head in for a brief kiss on the forehead before carrying you honeymoon style to the bed to cuddle. 

And that was enough for him. It never went farther than that with Jin. Your make out sessions would end with a chaste kiss to your lips before Jin would bring your head in to his chest, sighing in content.

You didn’t deserve him.

When time passed and Jin sensed you weren’t all there in the relationship you had to be honest with him. You couldn’t live putting on this charade any longer. Even if it meant breaking his heart.

“You don’t love me like that, do you? You don’t see me as a boyfriend,” Jin asked out of the blue one day, startling you from the comfortable silence you both had settled into, reading on the couch together.

You hesitate, biting your lip, “Of course I do, Jin. Don’t be crazy,” you assured him, but your blank eyes didn’t match the conviction you hoped to portray in your words. With a knowing, sorrowful smile Jin leaned in to grab your hands. Why was it that when you were hurting him, he was still there to comfort you? He was too good for you.

“I love you so much that I never want you to be unhappy. I can’t stand the thought of you not living your life how you want to,” Jin began, pausing to choose his words carefully. You could tell it was breaking him inside to set you free. “You still love him don’t you?” he asked after a heavy pause.

Even the slightest mention of him made your mind cloudy, yearning for a memory of him. You didn’t know what to say to Jin, how could you admit to him that you didn’t love him? Jin’s face fell slightly, a sadness entering his eyes. Taking your silence as a yes to still loving Jimin, he pulled you in for a hug as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You weren’t ready to lose the only light in your life after you had already lost Jimin, and he sensed that.

“Shh, it’ll all be okay,” Jin whispered into your hair, rubbing circles into your back. Frm then on, you and Jin had settled into an awkward zone, strained and imperfect, but warm nonetheless. You lived together as a couple, but you both knew that your heart wasn’t in it, you both knew Jin was just a support for you.

One day Jin had to work late shift at bookstore, leaving you home alone. A sharp knock at the door woke you up from the bittersweet reverie you always seemed to be in lately, but you went up to open the door, thinking nothing of it. Jimin.

All your breath had exited your lungs and you stood frozen at the doorway. Time stopped and the city grew silent. It seemed as the world was just you and Jimin. He was different, his face softer, sadder, holding none of the arrogance it used to. As your eyes rose to meet his your heart leaped, you had almost forgotten the butterflies you felt every time you saw him.

“Y/N,” Jimin breathed out softly, stuck in a state of awe and yearning.

“Do you want to come in?” you whispered, unsure of what to do when Jimin, the man you had dreamed of countlessly, was now facing you.

“Yeah,” he said, his figure walking past yours and examining your apartment, filled with reminders of Jin. The familiar smell of leather and cologne filled your senses, better than you had remembered. You were taken back in time to those moments with him, heated trysts in classrooms, the way Jimin looked at you, the turbulent passion that consumed you both. All those feelings resurfaced and you felt uncomfortable, welcoming Jimin into the apartment you and Jin now shared.

“You’ve changed,” he stated blankly. You knew he was talking about how domesticated you’d become, how you had settled into an almost married lifestyle. Although stable, your life had none of the freedom and excitement it once held with Jimin.

“So have you,” you replied, referring to the harsh demeanor that seemed to have disappeared from Jimin. His eyes crinkled in a slight smile, a smile you had seen so rarely you heart skipped a beat. As time had passed you no longer held the burning resentment towards him, no longer felt the dulled pain he had left in your heart.

“I missed you,” he said softly in a deep voice. Your breath stilled, eyes growing wide at his admission. Was this really happening? “Give me another chance, Y/N. I fucked up,” he sighed, tugging his hand through his hair before rising to sit next to you. The heat was already radiating off his body and lighting every fiber of your being on fire. He took your hands in his, relishing the way your skin felt against his.

“Run away with me. We can leave all this shit behind, all my mistakes, we can leave everything in the past,” he proposed, his eyes deep with regret and passion. His hands gripped your hands tighter as silence filled the room following his proclamation. You were in shock and you couldn’t believe his words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” his voice cracked in emotion as he brought your hand up to his lips, placing a light kiss on it while maintaining eye contact. Was he really a changed man?

“I…can’t,” you spoke softly, Jin’s sweet face in the back of your mind. Jimin looked crestfallen until a surge of determination filled his face. He wasn’t giving you up without a fight.

“One night, give me one night to show you I mean it,” Jimin said, his words surging with feeling. You knew you shouldn’t be running back into his arms after everything he put you through but you couldn’t ignore what your heart wanted. You found yourself wordlessly getting up to put on your shoes. Your eyes caught the perfectly made bed in your room and you felt a lump grow in your throat. Grabbing a notepad you scribbled I’m sorry on it and perched it on Jin’s nightstand. You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for yet but you felt guilty about so much that you hoped your note would express how apologetic you were for the way you had monopolized Jin’s life and given him nothing in return for his endless love.

As you walked back to Jimin he stood up eagerly, hope and caution written all over his face. You paused to take him in; this was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. He strode up to you, clutching your hand, before taking you to his car.

He drove. Anywhere to get away from the trap you felt like you lived in with Jin, despite his pure intentions. That apartment felt farther away and you felt lighter as you traveled down the endless highway. The calm silence, filled with the breeze running over your face and hair through the windows was refreshing. The empty highway and winding road made it seem as if your time with Jimin would never end.

“Do you want to know why I was such an asshole to you?” Jimin said, breaking the silence. You whipped your head to the side, nonverbally indicating that he should continue. This was the question that had confused you for so long, that made your addiction to Jimin so difficult.

“You were everything I wasn’t. And when I was so cruel to you, I was trying to make up for my shitty self. But the truth was that you were perfect. It was me that was fucked up, it was always me. For so long I tried to drag you down with me, I tried to ruin you just like me,” Jimin declared, a hand coming up to hit the steering wheel in anger. “When I was with you I felt like a better person, you purified me like a breath of fresh air. I felt my tough exterior breaking down and that scared me. The way I felt about you scared me,” he continued, pressing a hand on your thigh, almost as a reassurance that you were still here with him.
“I didn’t want to destroy your life so I left, I thought you could be happy with someone stable, like Jin, but I got selfish. Fuck, I’m so selfish,” Jimin said softly, almost to himself. All the while you remained silent, holding your breath in disbelief. Your mind reeled with emotions. “I have to have you all to myself, I can’t stay away. Honestly I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, probably just confusing you,” he trailed off, taking his eyes off the road for a second to meet yours. “I’m sorry, for everything.”

“Stop the car,” your voice came out soft, wrought with emotion. Jimin sharply looked at you, gauging your reaction to his admission, and pulled over to a lonely wooded area overlooking the city. You had driven so far you could almost see the life you were leaving behind with Jimin, the city lights twinkling dimly in the distance. You got out of the car and stood silently, crossing your arms as you faced the city, contemplating whether you should follow your heart or your mind. The two men in your life were on either side of you but you felt yourself wavering towards one. Jimin followed you to stand next to you, gazing at you instead of the city.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” you choked out, turning to face him. Your eyes shone with pain, expressing the inner battle that plagued your mind. Jimin’s face clouded with hurt and he pulled you in to his body, studying every detail of your face.

“I’m all yours,” he murmured before pulling your face in to a kiss. You felt like you were on fire as his lips glided over yours. His tongue danced with yours, moving in a sweet, romantic rhythm like never before. You both leaned into each other’s touch, craving this kiss like your lives depended on it. Your hands moved from their grip around his neck to fall to his waist, pulling him in closer to you. You needed him now.

“I don’t want to fuck you. You need to be appreciated,” he panted, lips glossy and swollen from kissing you. Leaning his forehead to yours, he traced your collarbone slowly, moving down to the valley of your breasts.

“I was so fucking stupid not to treasure you. I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. It all sounded so familiar and the thought of Jin entered your mind like a knife to the chest. Leading him on would only hurt him more in the end; you tried to rationalize as Jimin attached his lips to your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as he made his mark on your neck before smoothing your hair down and laying you down on the soft grass. Your hair flowed around you like a halo and flowers dotted the space around you and Jimin. Laying over you he rubbed circles onto your hip, eyes tracing every feature of your body like never before. You pulled his head down for a kiss and he eagerly locked his lips with yours, grinding down on your core. You felt the wetness pool between your legs, enjoying the way Jimin made you feel. His fingers trailed down your chest and stomach, reaching his hand under your skirt to rub lightly on against your slick folds. He groaned involuntarily at the feeling of your warm wetness against his fingers.

“I need to taste you,” Jimin moaned as you whimpered in response, putty in his hands. Never breaking eye contact, he pulled down your skirt and underwear, placing light kisses against your inner thigh. He latched his mouth around your clit and sucked, your hips bucking up in pleasure. As Jimin ran figure eights across your clit with his tongue he reached a hand up to hold yours. You squeezed his hand, feeling safe with him despite the risks you were taking. No one made you feel the way Jimin felt. You felt yourself reaching your high, stars dotting your vision as Jimin pumped two fingers in and out of your tight entrance, lips never leaving your clit. You felt yourself come undone with a cry and you arched into his touch, his tongue lapping up every bit of your release. He rose up to straddle you, lips shiny with your cum, before kissing you with a level of intimacy you had never experience with him. You felt bonded to him, like you never wanted to be apart.

“I love you, I’m all yours,” he breathed out, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze was filled with love, vulnerability, and honesty and you swooned at his change in heart. You responded to his declaration by pulling him into a passionate kiss, your hands reaching down to undo his pants. Breaking the kiss he slid off his clothes, lifting yours off in the process. You had never made love with Jimin. You felt almost shy but exhilarated at how open you were for each other.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he voiced before running his hands down to grip your hips and filling your tight heat with his cock. You both moaned out at the contact, the fiery connection between you two tangible. His movements were passionate, romantic, uninhibited. Sex with him had always been animalistic, rough, just pure fucking. But this time was different. You both were in the moment together, just you and Jimin. You felt his thrusts become quicker and the pit in your stomach grew with each second.

“I love you so much,” Jimin said, words coming out in short breaths as he reached a hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You entered a state of euphoria, ascending into paradish with Jimin. Jimin collapsed onto you with a loud moan, his chest heaving over yours. You lay there like that. In bliss in the quiet forest, stars glittering above your eyes. Jimin rolled over to your side, laying your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. You lived for moments like this. Moments that always seemed to end too soon. But not this time.

“Let’s run away together,” you said, your words cutting through the air. Your eyes flicked up to meet Jimin’s, which were burning through your gaze. His lips pursed in contemplation, eyebrows knitting together. “What about Jin, your life, your future,” he said softly, reinforcing just why the idea of you and Jimin was so crazy. The mention of Jin’s name made you picture him coming home to an empty house now, while you were in Jimin’s arms, and reading the note you left him silently, never to see you again. Your heart shattered into a million pieces, but you couldn’t keep living like that, a shell of a life. Jin deserved someone who would love him just as purely and warmly as he did.

“But I love you, it doesn’t matter where I am as long as I’m with you,” you confessed, seeing the instant light sparking in Jimin’s eyes. The light of hope. The light of happiness. A rare smile breaking across his face, he pulled your face in for a sweet kiss under the stars. You were his and he was yours.

You knew you were dancing with the devil, but how could you resist when the devil looked so pure, so inviting. You were sinners together now, both scarred souls, forever tied together. You would follow him to ends of the world, you knew that since the day you met him, but he realized now that you were his everything, his lifeline, his heart, and you could finally be happy together. You loved him despire the mess he had made of your life. He loved you despite the fact that he hated himself. 

You were both fatally flawed, but one thing remained, you loved each other unconditionally.