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music-es-vida · 4 years

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SOULMATE AU - LUCAS/DOYOUNG

(i also put this story on wattpad @mulanthewriter)

Summary: In all the soulmate au’s i’ve read- y/n is the one *desperately* pining over this guy who doesn’t want her as a soul mate & gets rejected (but then in the end changes his mind and accepts her & i hate it), so i decided to flip that. Basically the guy pines after her the whole time & gets rejected until the end 💀😂

CHAPTER ONE

“We’re soulmates, I know it.” You say with confidence. Lucas laughs, taking his popcorn bag to the head. “Y/n, you’re delusional. We’re not soulmates, how many times do I have to tell you this?”

“You wanna bet? Look, everyone’s soulmarks come in tomorrow. If I’m wrong, and we’re not really soulmates, I won’t bug you about it ever again.” “And if you’re right..?”

You leaned back into your cushioned chair with a smile, “You’ll end up with me after all.” Lucas laughs again with a roll of his eyes, as the movie theater lights dimmed.

You two had been friends since middle school, but you’ve always had a crush on him- and he knew it. Lucas liked you too, but not in that way. You were pretty bold, always letting him know how handsome you thought he was, but he would always ignore your flirting, keeping you in the friend-zone.

Despite all the rejection, you were stubborn, and were convinced that you two were meant to be together. Soon he’d see that you were right, once your soulmarks came in.

Soulmarks were kind of like birthmarks on your left wrist that come in on the 1st day of the year of your 18th birthday so you’d know who you should be with.

Not everybody chooses to be with their soulmate, though. Most people do, but it wasn’t unheard of for people to marry someone who wasn’t their soulmate. Besides, just because you’re soulmates, doesn’t guarantee the relationship will work out. People will never be completely perfect for each other. There’ll always be problems.

So even though there was a bit of doubt in the back of your mind that you and Lucas were really meant to be together, you figured even if you weren’t, you’d still try to be with him. It hadn’t even occurred to you that maybe you hadn’t even met your real soulmate yet.

After leaving the movie theater, Lucas drops you off at home. “G’night shorty.” He smiled down at you, rubbing your head like you were a dog or something. You shot him a sarcastic smile, removing his hand from your head, clearly annoyed. “Goodnight tree,” you teased back, making him laugh. “At school tomorrow, I wanna see your wrist right away, okay? You’ll see that I’m right!” “Heh. Whatever you say, Y/n..”

THE NEXT DAY…

Because you were so excited to see what your soulmark looked like, you woke up 45 minutes before your alarm went off. You immediately jumped out of bed to turn your light on. “Let’s see what this thing looks like.. Hope it’s not ugly..” You closed your eyes in anticipation, slowly turning your wrist around, then forcing your eyes open.

It wasn’t there.

The soulmark hadn’t appeared yet.

“It’s completely normal for it not to appear right away, honey. Mine didn’t come until it was late in the day.” Your mom tried convincing you. “Are you sure this isn’t some kind of medical problem or something?! What if this means I don’t end up with anybody?” You cried.

Your mom sighed before walking around the table to hug you. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll come in, just be patient. Everyone gets theirs on January 1st of the year they turn 18. It’s always been that way, and you are no exception to that.” She rubs your back, reassuringly. “You’re right. Not everyone gets theirs at the same time… I wonder if Lucas got his yet?” You stopped sniffling.

Your mom rolls her eyes, smiling slightly because she also knew about your hopeless crush on that boy. “Hurry up and finish your breakfast, I’m driving you to school until your car is fixed, remember? Don’t make me late for work.” “Okay mom,” you mockingly make a face.

As soon as you step into your first class, your friend, Aisha runs up to you, holding her wrist out for you to see. “Y/n, look at this! Look at this!” It was a blue flame. “A blue flame.. I saw someone in the hallway with this same soulmark--” “You did?! Who was it?” Aisha asks, looking hopeful. “..I can’t really remember, I think it was Moonbin..?” You guess, not entirely sure. “You’re kidding!” “Don’t quote me on that- I’m not positive it was him,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “Well, let me see yours.” She turns your wrist around. Still blank. You watch as her face twists up in confusion, and you snatch your wrist back, embarrassed. “It hasn’t come in yet.” You mutter quietly with a sigh.

“Ah, I see.. Chin up, Y/n. It’ll come eventually,” Aisha shrugs before walking off to a group of other people in your class to show soulmarks to. As you walked across the classroom to your desk, you saw literally everyone else bragging about their soulmarks, proudly showing them off. Well, everyone except that quiet kid- Doyoung. He was just sitting at his desk, reading a book, as if nothing interesting was going on today. “He’s so weird..” you say to yourself, making a face. You wondered why he seemed so unbothered while everyone else cared so much about the soulmarks.

It seemed like nobody in your class had found their soulmate yet, but that didn’t stop them from showing off their cool soulmarks. “I wonder if I’ll hate the way mine looks..” Suddenly the teacher starts smacking a ruler on her desk to get everyone’s attention. “Class? Class! Settle down… I know everyone is excited because we’ve started a new year, and that everyone’s soulmarks are starting to come in, but we still need to focus on studying for midterms.” Everyone groans at the mention of those dreaded exams. “I remember when I was your age, and all I cared about was finding my husband- and it caused my grades to go down because i spent so much time trying to find him instead of studying..” Your professor rambled on. This wasn’t the first time she complained to you all about never finding her soulmate. Maybe he was in an accident or something terrible happened.

There also was a chance that he didn’t want to be found. You’d heard stories like that before too. You would think that in a world where it’s specifically written out on your wrist who you’re supposed to be with, that finding love would be easier, but life is still complicated.

After class, you gather up all your textbooks and things, stopping in your tracks to check for your soulmark. Still wasn’t there. Suddenly, someone behind you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking, and bumped into you. “Hey, watch where-” you turned around to see that it was that quiet guy, Doyoung. “You made me drop all my stuff.” He glared at you. “Well maybe watch where you’re going next time.” You glared back, not because you were angry at him, but because you were already having a bad day. All this soulmark stuff was stressing you out. “Sorry..” you snapped out of it, bending down to help him pick up his books.

“I don’t need your help.” He pushes your arm away, and in the process, you catch a glance at his left wrist. It was blank too. “Hmm.. that’s interesting.” You said, thinking out loud. “What?” He asked, straightening back up. “..I thought I was the only one who was still blank.” You say with a slightly bitter smile, pointing at his wrist. He looks down at yours to see it was also blank. “Oh well,” you shrug, walking off to your next class. You quickened your steps, because Lucas was in this next class. Even though you were bummed about your mark not showing up yet, you were still excited to see what Lucas’ looked like. Mainly because you knew that was what your soulmark would look like too. You wanted to know what to expect.

As you sped through the hallway, Aisha caught up with you, linking arms. “Y/n, you were right- Moonbin is my soulmate!!” She practically screamed in your ear. “Oh my goodness, I’m jealous,” you smile. You were actually really happy for her. She’s had a crush on Moonbin since forever..well, pretty much everyone did, but you thought he’d be a great match for Aisha. They were both tall. “Aw, don’t be, Y/n. I’m sure your soulmate will be just as great as mine,” she smiles before skipping off to her own class. “She must not think Lucas is my soulmate either..” You thought to yourself, wondering why she didn't specifically say he’d make a great soulmate for you.

When you finally made it to your next class, you spot Lucas in the middle of the room immediately. He wasn’t hard to find, since he was so tall. A smile immediately came onto your face as he noticed you’d come in and he waved you over. “Let me see it.” He says curiously, hiding his own wrist behind his back. “No, you first.” You say, teasingly hiding yours behind your back as well. You weren’t sure how to tell him yours hadn’t come in yet. “Alright, fine.” He turns his hand around so you can see.

It was a bright red heart. Nothing special, but you felt like it summed Lucas up perfectly. “Awe, this is what our soulmarks look like? How cute.” You say, grabbing his wrist and bringing it closer to your face to get a better look at it. “What do you mean by that? Has yours not come in yet?” He asks, taking your hand and flipping it. He raises his eyebrows. “Wow, your soulmark is clear!” “No it is not, you moron. It just hasn’t appeared yet.” You giggle, snatching your hand back. You were getting more and more impatient waiting on this thing to appear as the hours went by.

You had tried convincing Lucas that your soulmark would for sure match his as soon as it appeared, but he shrugged, obviously not believing you. He loved you, but he knew he wasn’t meant to be with you in that way.

Despite how trying this day was, you were relieved to hear that he hadn’t found anybody else with the same soulmark (yet), and he pointed out that the fact that you even had to ask proves that you two probably weren’t soulmates. You just rolled your eyes in response, but it really did make you think about the possibility of your soulmate being someone other than Lucas. It was a scary thought.

Lucas was literally your whole world, and you couldn’t imagine life without him, so if that doesn’t equal a soulmate, you didn’t know what did.

Just about the whole school day had finished, and you still hadn’t gotten your mark yet. You’d pretty much given up on it at this point. You had seen a few other people throughout the day that didn’t have theirs yet either, but you found them again at the end of the day and each one of them had gotten theirs- finally.

Well, there was still Doyoung. You hadn’t seen him all day since this morning, and you wondered if his soulmark ever appeared. “If I were an anti-social bookworm, where would I be..?” You asked yourself, walking around campus, searching for Doyoung.

You didn’t know him well at all, but you were curious to see if his soulmark had come in yet. In truth, you just didn’t want to be the only one who hadn’t gotten one yet. It made you feel like you were going to die alone. Sure, that was a bit dramatic, but this whole ‘soulmark’ thing really affects a person's future.

Eventually you guessed he was sitting by the fountain out in the yard, since it was quiet and conducive for reading, and you were right. He was sitting under a tree, book in hand. He was listening to music and slightly bobbing his head to whatever rhythm was playing in his ears. You decided to turn back, since he looked so peaceful, and you didn’t want to disturb him. But he looked up and saw you before you could leave. “Shoot.”

“What, are you stalking me now?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows and taking out an earbud. You give him an expressionless look, before rolling your eyes. “I just wanted to see if you got your soulmark yet..” You trail off, feeling embarrassed you actually searched for him just to ask him this. He doesn’t respond, but keeps looking up at you. “..I just need to know I’m not the only one who hasn’t gotten theirs yet.” You say with a shaky voice, looking up so the tears wouldn’t fill your eyes. Normally you weren’t this pressed about things, but you were really starting to think you were gonna end up alone. Doyoung’s face softened as he noticed how vulnerable you were being. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter, I know it’ll appear eventually.. I’m just being dramatic.” You say, about to turn and leave. You regretted finding him.

“I still haven’t gotten mine either.” He finally says, before going back to reading his book. Your eyes widen in surprise as you glance back down at him. He put his earbud back in. A small smile made its way onto your face, now that you knew you weren’t ‘soulmark-less’ alone. Somebody else was in the same boat as you and it made you feel less worried about the future. You walked away without saying anything else, since that was really all you wanted to hear. You were shocked since you had fully expected him to have gotten his soulmark by now, like the others.

As you walked away, Doyoung looked up from his book. He briefly glanced at you before pulling down his sleeve to reveal his wrist. There were three neon green music notes on it. He lied to you because he didn’t want you to be crushed when you found out you really were the only one who was still soulmark-less.

At home, your mom asked if your soulmark had come in yet, and you replied with a ‘no’. She was surprised at how calm you were when you said it. It was like you’d accepted that it would still take some more time before it appeared. You wondered if it was still choosing who your soulmate would be or something.

“Why is it taking so long?”

Even though you were a bit annoyed about this, you were fine knowing that you weren’t the only one who was still waiting. You decided to take a nap and that maybe it would appear by the time you woke up.

A FEW HOURS LATER…

Lucas had come over, because he was just as anxious to see your soulmark as you were. He wondered if you were right about being soulmates all along. He was outside your room on the couch, waiting for you to wake up, when all of a sudden he heard a scream. Your mom and Lucas burst into your room as soon as they could, wondering what happened.

“It’s coming in- it’s coming in-” you panic. “What’s coming in?” Your mom asks, terrified. “My soulmark!” You shouted, and Lucas quickly came across the room to sit on the floor next to you.

You had been staring at your wrist for a few minutes, but the process was pretty slow, so you were only able to make out a few shapes. It hadn’t even occurred to you that your soulmark already looked nothing like Lucas’.

“I can’t look-” you said dramatically, looking away from your wrist. Your mom had gone back to her room, saying she’d return after your mark had fully appeared. She didn’t have the time to just sit around waiting for it like you and Lucas did.

A few minutes later, Lucas tapped your shoulder. “Umm.. Y/n?” “What?” “Your soulmark..” “What about it? It matches yours, doesn’t it?” You ask, still refusing to look at it. “It’s.. green.. Neon green.” He finishes. “What?” You scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, finally bringing your wrist up to your face to get a look at this soulmark for yourself.

Before, there (sort of) wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you’d have the same soulmark as Lucas, but seeing it right there in front of your eyes— three neon green music notes… It just didn’t make sense. “This can’t be right.. They got my soulmark wrong! ..What?..” You stared at it in shock and disbelief. Lucas awkwardly watched in silence as you tried to process this.

The soulmark did sum you up pretty well, just like Lucas’ matched his personality. You loved music- it was your life.. One of the main things that made you happy.

But you loved Lucas more. Or at least you thought you did. You just froze there with your wrist up in the air in front of your face as you blankly stared at the mark. The color was so bright and intriguing. You actually kind of liked it. It was weird, but it was you.

But it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted the bright red heart to match Lucas’. “Y/n..” Lucas starts, not really sure what to say to you. He honestly wasn’t surprised at all that your marks didn’t match up, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. “Can you just leave me alone for a bit? I’ll text you later, okay?” You interrupt, letting your hand drop. You didn’t look at him. You were too ashamed. He nodded, giving you a hug before leaving. He was a great friend.. Nothing more.

For years you had been so certain that you and Lucas were soulmates because of how well you got along, but to have that not be a reality was killing you. You didn’t know what to do.

Should you go out looking for your real soulmate? Should you ignore what you said in the bet and continue to pursue Lucas anyway? What if he met his soulmate and wanted to be with her? You ignored your mother's worried knocks on the door as you buried yourself under your blankets. You didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight.

You just needed time to process this.

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jgukmilk · 5 years

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he won’t know (m) 01

➔ summary: Growing up you always had a crush on the heartthrob in human form; Jeon Jungkook. But you never managed to muster up the courage to develop anything with him, alas you eventually got yourself a boyfriend, thinking you had gotten over your silly middle-school crush and your boyfriend had become the one that held your heart, well, at least that’s what you thought.

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, slight angst.

➔ warnings: cheating with jungkook - In no way do i encourage cheating, this is pure fiction, mature language, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, fingering, cunniligus, unprotected sex, overstimulation, jk has a huge schlong wbk, dirty talk, plot if you squint, edited (i apologise if there’re any mistakes, one of my many talents is overlooking typos), graphic?

➔ wordcount: 12.1k shuSH

part 1, part 2, part 3 (final)

“Canon ball!” Hoseok yelled out loud before speed running and jumping into the water, causing a huge wave to hit the edges of the pool, “Hoseok!” You yelled semi-annoyed while laughing as you attempted to wipe of the water droplets running down your exposed stomach.

You and a your friend group had decided that it was time to take a long deserved break. You had all finally finished with finals, and you were all completely worn out from the countless, sleepless nights of studying. Your friend group, which included; Jimin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Taehyung, and lastly your best friend, Mina.

You had all agreed to step away from studies for the time being, just for a little while until your next exam approached, and just chill and enjoy each other’s company, and what better way to do so then sit by the pool. Jimin so happened to own a beach house close to the beach (duh), which was perfect.

In reality his parents owned the house, but they had been kind enough to let you all borrow it over the weekend.

Both parents agreed on the friend group deserving a break after studying so damn hard.

It was a three-floored house with a handful of bedrooms and bathrooms, so you all had enough space to sleep somewhere comfortable instead of the cold marble floor.

“Oh c’mon Y/N, you’re wearing a bikini. It’s made for the purpose of engaging in water-based activity,” Hoseok piped as he wiped the excess droplets trickling down from the side of his neck. You rolled your eyes at his choice of words. He was probably still in the exam mind-set, which allowed him to use such formal words when he easily just could’ve told you a bikini was made to get wet.

“I’d rather just sit here and enjoy the sun,” you said, laying back down and allowing the rays of the deep orange sunset light to warm up your skin. “Then go inside to the rest of the gang, if you don’t want to swim,” Namjoon let out while he was floating on his back, looking as if he was trying to become one with the water.

You, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook were the only ones that were sitting outside by the pool, either swimming or trying to get a tan. And frankly, you were the only one doing the second option.

The three boys, mostly Namjoon and Hoseok, had tried to convince you for over an hour to come in and join them in the water, but you’d much rather prefer to just sit back down in your beach chair and relax.

The rest of the group was chilling inside the beach house, playing cards and board games while most probably munching on a bunch of snacks. You didn’t feel like going inside and eating your weight in snacks, not that it didn’t sound like a delightful idea.

But you’d rather just sit outside and enjoy the shining sun, since you had spent the last couple of weeks studying in your room with absolutely no rays of sunlight, like some sort of ancient caveman. You missed it, you missed the light.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, your phone made a small vibration next to your thigh making you open your eyes and shift your attention over to the phone to see who had messaged you. Hoping it was your beloved boyfriend, Jaehyun, your thoughts filled with hope, only to be crushed seconds later when you saw you had gotten an email about some irrelevant advertisement about a diarrhoea colored couch being on sale. No wonder it was on sale, it was ugly as shit, almost literally.

Your back hit the beach chair while a long sigh left your lips. You and Jaehyun had been dating for a little over 8 months. He had asked you to be his girlfriend on a cute picnic date in one of your favorite parks.

He was your dream guy; he was sweet, thoughtful, funny, and not to mention, really handsome. In your eyes he was the whole damn package. Everything was going so well the first couple of months, but when exam season rolled around you both started to become more distant, you were long over the honeymoon phase of your relationship.

You didn’t lose interest in each other, well, in a way you did, but it wasn’t intentionally. You had both been so busy with studying that you barely had time to spend with each other. The sweet goodnight texts he would send you every night slowly reduced by the day. The spontaneous facetime-calls vanished.

You barely saw each other anymore. Alas, putting all of those factors aside, you could see Jaehyun was trying. He was truly trying to keep in contact with you, and make you feel like you had a boyfriend that wanted to know how you were doing and ask you about your day.

Truth be told, you missed feeling like you had a boyfriend.

“You good, Y/N?” Namjoon’s deep voice broke you out of your thoughts, “what?” you blinked twice. “You’ve been staring at the same spot for a solid ten minutes, without blinking. I was starting to worry that a fly might get its way into your eye,” he chuckled lightly.

“N-no, I’m good, just thinking ‘tis all,” you heard an over exaggerated uhhh escape Hoseok’s mouth, “trouble in paradise, girly? What’s his name, Jichan?”

“Jaehyun,” you corrected, “and no, everything’s fine with him and I,” you assured, but the guys didn’t quite believe you. They had noticed how you started to speak less of him as the weeks passed by.

You would always share cute pictures you and your boyfriend took on the dates you would go on every once in a while, or you would talk about how you both would stay up till the ass-crack of dawn to text or call.

But you couldn’t talk about those kinds of things anymore, since those events stopped occurring. But they didn’t want to push it, it wasn’t their business anyway, so they just decided to let it slide. Well, except for Jungkook.

“What happened? Can’t satisfy you anymore?” the dark-haired boy asked cockily, causing all three pairs of wide eyes to shift to his direction. He coolly slid his hand through his dark wet locks.

“Jungkook, leave it,” Namjoon scolded him calmly but sternly. You felt your heart slightly race in frustration. This brat, you thought. Wanting to stand up for yourself, and not wanting to look like you needed anybody else to do it for you, you answered him, “we’ve been busy studying,” you kept it sweet and short.

Your relationship with Jungkook wasn’t exactly… what’s the word? Existent.

You were part of the same friend group, and that was all you two were, two people sharing the same group of friends. You never uttered more than a few words to each other, and if you had a decent conversation there was always a third party involved. Though it wasn’t enough to call him a friend.

But that didn’t stop him from having the balls to act like an ass to you from time to time, like now, but other than that, you two didn’t really talk so much.

You like to blame your non-existent friendship on the previous crush you had on him. You had small feelings lingering for Jungkook in middle school, long before you even knew Jaehyun, back then Jungkook was the one who had your heart without having any knowledge of it.

Jeon Jungkook was the throb of your heart. Was.

And because of those meaningless feelings, you never got the courage to try and develop a friendship with him.

But over time you just got used to not having any form of relationship with him, so you just decided to let it be, and he too didn’t seem to care about trying to earn your acquaintance.

Time passed by, the sun had set, and the boys still tried their best to convince you to join them in the pool, but your butt remained in the beach chair, like it had for hours now.

They kept telling you how there really wasn’t any excuse since the sun had set, and your only reason for not joining them was because you wanted to supposedly enjoy the sun.

All in all, You were all having fun, Jin came out to you guys countless times, to check on you all once in a while, him being the mom-figure he was, he brought a few snacks so you wouldn’t starve to death or get a spontaneous cramp and drown. His words, not yours.

“Guys, I’m really tired,” Hoseok started, “I think I’m gonna call it a night and join the rest of the gang inside.

You coming?” He raised an eyebrow at all three of you, “yeah, let me join you,” Namjoon let out. Both elder boys swimming to the edge of the pool to dry themselves off and join the rest of the group inside the beach house.

You realized you were going to be left alone awkwardly with Jungkook. So before any awkward conversation could occur, you decided to get up and escape, “you’re leaving too?”

Jungkook’s voice made you stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder, “what does it look like?” you answered back half-assed, in all honesty you were still a little annoyed at Jungkook because of his unnecessary remark about your relationship with Jaehyun.

“Don’t leave,” he broke you out of your internal rant, “why not?” you crossed your arms. He swam to the nearest edge, resting both elbows on the marble. “I don’t want to be out here all alone, and I don’t wanna go in just yet,” he argued.

“So, you want me to stay?” he rolled his eyes at the obvious, “no dumbass, I asked you to stay obviously because I want you to leave,” you smiled mischievously at his sarcasm, “gladly,” you bowed sarcastically while holding your non-existent gown, and proceeded to make your way over to the house,

“Yes,” he sighed loudly, “I want you to stay.”

You turned around again. Going through all the possible reason as to why you shouldn’t stay out with the brat. He’s just going to be an ass to you again.

Maybe he didn’t mean it?

Are you dumb? When has Jeon Jungkook ever been nice to you?

Well… Maybe this could finally be a chance to start a friendship with him?

The two demons in you were fighting about whether or not you should’ve stayed. Your angelic side wanting to stay and attempt to develop a friendship with the boy you secretly always admired from a far but hated publicly.

While your demonic side was telling you that he could go and suck your dick and choke on it and, maybe if you were lucky, hopefully permanently damage his esophagus.

Realizing you probably looked like an idiot just standing there, staring at nothing. You blinked a couple of time before finally making up your mind.

It wouldn’t be that bad to spend a couple more moments out here with Jungkook, if everything went to complete and utter shit, throwing yourself into the water and drown was always an option.

You made your way back over to your beloved beach chair, about to take a seat when, “what are you doing?” Jungkook’s voice stopped you from placing yourself on the chair, “sitting?”

“No, you’re gonna swim,” Jungkook protested, crossing his arms under water but it was still clearly visible to you, “I’m not going in,” you placed yourself on the chair, “yes you are,” you saw Jungkook from the corner of your eye swimming closer to you, you didn’t let your brain accept what he’s about to do, “what are you doing?” you asked half scared, half annoyed. It was enough for him to have you stay.

Having you go in and swim when you clearly didn’t want to was downright provoking. “I’m dragging you in here myself,” a smirk painted itself across Jungkook’s uneven lips, “No, you’re not,” you said, trying to mentally plant your fingers on the chair to make it impossible for him to lift you from the chair.

He lifted himself up from the water, putting his perfectly sculpted body on display for you. Your eyes stung at the sight and you almost painfully forced yourself not to look at his abdomen and chest. Eyes on his face.

He walked over to you ever so slowly, as if he was giving you a few extra seconds to make up your mind. Your eyes betraying you, your gaze shifted down to his strong biceps. Your mind flooded with thoughts of his rock-hard arms wrapped around you, his veiny hands placed on the small of your back, in attempt to get you up from the chair.

The sole thought made your stomach twist in an unknown way.

You can’t let him touch you.

“Fine!” you exclaimed loudly, making him flinch backwards. You removed the towel covering your thighs and made your way over to the metal pool ladder that descended its way down the pool.

It had become completely unnoticed, but it somehow slipped your vision that Jungkook was already back in the pool, swimming backward strokes, watching you playfully as you unwillingly wrapped your fingers around the metal poles. “Today, Y/N.”

You looked back at Jungkook with narrowed eyes. You took slow steps into the cold water. The feeling of goosebumps lick up and down your spine repeatedly from the sudden contact of icy water, your body twitched. The sun was also gone, meaning the water had dropped a few temperatures.

Your back faced the water, it took you a good minute to let your body adjust to the cold temperature. You inhaled and exhaled deeply trying to relax with both eyes closed, and you’re almost there. Your body was now feeling warmer, so you opened your eyes, ready to go in, but you looked down on the metal poles and saw another set of hands placed tightly around the bars.

Realisation hit you like a truck at the warm temperature-like feeling that was felt from behind. More specifically, another body behind you. You discreetly turned around, without bumping into him. You stopped breathing from the closeness of his face.

“You sure like taking your time, don’t you?” Jungkook broke the intense silence. His dark hooded eyes were fixated on you, making your knees tremble slightly. It made you uncomfortable to have him this close. “Get away from me,” it came out barely as a whisper. All strength that was intended was all gone.

His fingers unlocked from around the bars and you exhaled slightly in relief. Only to have your breath caught up in your throat, when Jungkook decided it’d be a good idea, to wrap his fingers around your wrists instead. “No- I can do it myself, Let go!” you tried to yank your hand out of his grip but you miserably failed.

A wide grin is plastered on his face as he dragged you further into the pool, “thought I might help you,” he brought you even closer to him, and you feebly tried to kick your legs under the water to increase the distance between you.

Finally he brought you to stand right in front of him. He placed both your hands on his broad chest by accident, in attempt to keep your hands still. You tried your luck one more time and yanked your hand away from his using all your strength. Finally, you succeeded.

But that didn’t stop him from coming closer to you. He took small steps in the water, getting closer to you. And you, horrified, backed away. “Jungkook, what’s gotten into you, stop it.” You said firmly. Your eyebrows clashed at his puzzled silence.

You felt the fine hairs on your back rise at the way his breath grew unsteady. His breath hit your face, causing the electric-like feeling up your spine, to intensify, yet you convinced yourself it was because of the cold water.

You saw his eyes switch between your own and your lips. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating or not, but you could’ve sworn you saw him slowly leaning in while secreting his lips with his wet muscle. He was about to- Oh no…

“Whoa! The water feels great!” you extended your arms up in the air on purpose, to create some much needed space between you. Almost hitting his nose, he backed away from you, a little shocked at the sudden outburst. Before he was able to process the situation, you hurried yourself into the water, mentally cursing at the cold liquid touching your skin.

“Wah, it’s so nice,” you convincingly lied, “I see why you want to spend a little more time in here, so relaxing!” you splashed some water on your arms and under your armpits as if you were showering.

Your mouth twitched at the fake smile that painted across your face. Jungkook, on the other hand, was still quite confused, “don’t you think?” you asked wanting to pull him out of whatever thought was going through his mind.

He nodded hesitantly, “yeah, I… I guess,” he scratched the back of his head, his mind still being in a daze of confusion. You sighed in relief from the success of being able to escape the previous situation. Your heart was anxiously racing. You patted your chest in attempt to calm your racing heart down.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, you heard your phone ringing loudly. You titled your head, trying to think of who could be calling you this late. “I’ll get it,” Jungkook piped, not letting you respond.

He made his way to the edge of the pool, doing a mini-mermaid stroke with his legs to kick himself up from the water.

He crawled up from the pool and made his way over to the beach chair with the vibrating device on it. “Who is it?” you asked, making your way over to the edge of the pool, following the same movements he made to get out of the pool. You as well, crawled out of the pool. You eyed him confused as you saw his eyes darkening at what seemed to be the ID caller. “Jaehyun,” he said bluntly.

Your heart fluttered at the mention of his name. Not bothering to ask what had gotten into Jungkook, you snatched the phone from his hands, immediately pressing on the green button, and brining the device up to your ear

“Jaehyun-ah!” you exclaimed excited, which only made Jungkook’s eyes grow darker hearing the nickname roll off your lips, but it came unnoticed in your mind.

“Hey, Princess,” your loving boyfriend’s voice was heard from the other line. Your smile grew at the pet name. Not hearing his voice for a long time really had made you sad, considering how you two could never even go a day without hearing from one another.

“Hey,” you greeted back, your smile growing. Your eyes shifted over to Jungkook. And you noticed how his eyes had grown hooded while you had been all smiley with Jaehyun on the other line. “How’ve you been, Y/N?” Jungkook took a few steps closer, almost towering over you, but you managed to place a hand on his bare chest to keep your distance from him.

Ignoring the flutter in your stomach at the skin-to-skin contact with Jungkook, you took a few steps backwards to increase the distance between the two of you. But managing to keep your hand on his chest to keep him in place.

“I’ve been good. Finals went well and now I’m just chilling with the gang at Jimin’s beach house,” You answered, still, your full attention on the endearing boy on the other line.

But bursting your perfect little bubble, Jungkook slid his fingers around yours; waiting for you to react, and it certainly didn’t take long. ‘What are you doing?’ you mouthed discreetly to the drenched male in front of you. Creepy sensations being sent to your spine from the fingers he had wrapped his own around.

He did nothing but filthily smirk at you before brining you hand up to his cheek. You’re eyes widen in sudden shock, body completely frozen. Being slightly panicked would be an understatement.

“Hello? Y/N, you there?”Jaehyun was now the one to cut you out of you sudden daze, “y-yeah, I’m here. The connection must’ve been bad, I didn’t get what you were saying,” a small aha was heard from Jaehyun.

Jungkook brought your hand, along with his own, up to his face. Subconsciously you cupped his face, you knees almost gave up on you at the sight but visibly you could see him melting into the heat of your palm. “So soft,” he whispered to himself, as if he was talking to your hand, completely forgetting your existence. But his eyes quickly averted to your own, making you lock gazes.

“What have you been up to?” Jaehyun asked from the other line. You didn’t give yourself the time to answer him, since your priority right now was to get Jungkook off of you. You tried jerking your hand away from his but you failed miserably. It only made him come closer to you, leaving almost no space between the two of you, “you really should answer him, angel,” Jungkook whispered, making sure his own voice didn’t reach the other line.

Absolutely frozen in place you managed to utter a few words, “nothing really… you?” Jungkook smiled in satisfaction, his lips moving to the bud of your fingers, placing small pecks of affection on each and every one of them. You moved your phone to the edge of your shoulder, “Jungkook, stop,” you said before bringing the phone back up to your ear.

“Ah y’know, just been busy with work and studies, the usual.” Jungkook’s small peck trailed down to your palm, making his way down and up your arm.

You could feel your breath growing unsteady, “are you alright?” at this point Jungkook had reached your neck, placing small kitty licks on the crook of your neck. “You’re... Panting?”

“J-Jungkook, stop. P-please…” your body betraying your words, you felt your head tilt slightly to the side giving him more space. A breathy chuckle left his lips, causing goosebumps to aggressively shoot through your body.

He continued to nip carefully on your soft skin, “answer him,” he purred demandingly close to your ear, his voicing dropping at least one octave, “yeah, just a little dizzy. I-I should get going.”

“Oh okay, take ca-” you cut the line, letting the phone slide down from your fingers, “good girl,” Jungkook praised you before wrapping his arms around your waist, causing a small gasp to escape your lips.

He turned you both around, and sat down making you straddle his lap, your legs on either side of him. You tried to stand up, you really did, but his arms were tightly secured around your waist making it almost impossible for you to even move.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed, making you stop attempting to rise from him. His words caught you off guard. He started trailing kisses between the bridge of your two breasts.

You bit your lips trying your damn best to hold back any sounds from escaping. You refused to let him know how good he was making you feel. He trailed wet open-mouthed kisses from your chest, making his way up your neck.

He grabbed your waist, making you lay down on the beach chair while he hovered above you, completely trapping you. He looked into your eyes, admiring the way your pupils were dilated. He smirked--you were enjoying this.

You stared back at him, lips slightly parted, heavy breaths escaping as if you were patiently waiting for his next move. He lowered his head, licking his lips before attaching them to your own.

He moved at a gentle pace as if he was trying to savor your taste. He pulls away for a brief second, “you taste so sweet,” He smacked any thought out of your mind and continued to kiss you, but still you didn’t reciprocate. You tried your best not to move your lips with his pink and plush ones. They felt so soft, so gentle and, god, so warm. You couldn’t give in, you just couldn’t do that to Jaehyun. To yourself.

His hands made their way to your thighs, bending your knees as he lowered his pelvis to your middle, making the move more intimate. Confused as to why you didn’t kiss back, he removed his lips from yours to get a good look at your face in fear of the fact that he might have crossed the line with you.

Yes he wanted you, a lot, but he would never force you to do anything out of your comfort-zone. But a smile twitched on the corners of his lips in relief getting a good glimpse of your face. Cheeks flustered with pink, pupils dilated, breath unsteady, lips unintentionally parted and slightly swollen. His doing.

He still didn’t know if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, but one thing was he sure about. You didn’t want him to stop. How could you?

If you truly wanted him off of you, you would have pushed him away and rushed inside the house, yet here you were. Letting him hold you, letting him hover over you, letting him kiss you--worship you.

He lowered his face again, but his lips didn’t touch yours. His mouth brushed over yours, while his hand caressed your side. He was ruining you. You didn’t dare to move, he could kiss you, but you couldn’t kiss him. As much as you may have wanted to, as much as he made you want to crash your lips against his. You couldn’t do it. You didn’t have the heart to.

“Are you thinking about him?” Jungkook chirped lightly, his mouth still micrometers away from you. You couldn’t do anything but nod, your eyes fixated on his eyes, occasionally switching to his lips, “I can make you forget about him,” he confirmed, “I won’t make you regret this,” his voice was so gentle. It was as if he was a siren, his voice making you forget about anything and everything, only making you focus on the soft vibrations reaching your ears.

“But you have to let me, Y/N,” he spoke again, “I won’t go any further unless you ask me to,” he stared deeply into your eyes, searching for any sign of consent, but he knew the only kind of consent that’d make him keep going, was your verbal consent.

He didn’t dare to rush you, he’s been wanting you for so long, he couldn’t rush things with you if it’d mean he’d blow it. He had waited so long.

He had waited so long to finally hold you, to have you under him all flushed, and now that he finally had the chance to have you, he didn’t dare to blow it. He couldn’t afford to think with his dick right now. “Jungkook, I-“

“You guys still in the pool?!” You quickly pushed Jungkook off of you, dusting off your body as if he was some kind of germ, “w-we were just about to go in!” you yelled back to Jimin, who was standing on the balcony from the second floor, looking down at the two of you.

“You should come in before it gets too dark,” Jimin pronounced with a smile before making his way back into the house, probably to join the others in whatever the hell they were doing.

“Y/N-“ before Jungkook could speak any further, you grabbed your towel and rushed into the house, too embarrassed to face him.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Namjoon smiled warmly at you once he spotted your flustered form standing by the door frame. You had your towel wrapped securely over your shoulders, “hey,” you replied as you made your way over to the staircase.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asked you, making you stop in your tracks, “I’m tired… so I’m gonna call it a night. See you in the morning,” you said keeping it short and sweet, but before any of them could protest you spoke again, “Mina,” you got your best friend’s attention, “come with me?”

You could see in the girl’s eyes she was about to turn you down. But you tried your damn hardest to give her a look that said, please-just-come-with-me-and-don’t-argue, and luckily, she got the message, “uhm, yeah sure.”

“I KNEW IT!” Mina yelled loudly. You quickly had to slap a hand over her mouth to shut her up, “are you insane?! They’re going to hear you!” you whisper yelled aggressively. You had told Mina about what happened between you and Jungkook when you both were alone in the pool.

But you made sure to keep the details about how flustered he made you feel, out. “I called it!” Mina announced happily over your hand. She had always been bright about the idea of you and Jungkook. Even before you met Jaehyun.

She had gotten salty once you told her about Jaehyun, long back before the two of you even started dating. You remember her not wanting to speak to you for over three days, but in the end, she reminded herself that she needed to be your best friend and support you no matter what, even if she disagreed with you, it was your relationship not hers, and if Jaehyun was able to make you happy then that was all that mattered.

No, she wasn’t hyping you up about cheating; of course she thought and knew it was very wrong and something that should never be done. But Mina knew about your relationship status with Jaehyun, she had known it wasn’t exactly a bundle of roses as it had previously been. She wasn’t sure if Jaehyun was making you as happy as he could anymore.

And to add on top of that, it was Jungkook that you had been a little unfaithful with, which was the cherry on top for Mina.

“Mina, it was a mistake, nothing’s going to happen,” the joyous grin plastered on her face slowly faded, “why not?” she asked curiously, innocently tilting her head to the side while crossing her arms, “because I don’t like Jungkook that way, heck I don’t even like him as a person,” your sentence followed a deep sigh, “look, it was just a stupid mistake I let happen, okay?”

“You may not like him but you sure as hell find him attractive,” smugly, she crossed her arms while side-eyeing your amused. You nearly choked on your spit, “pardon?”

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. You might be stubborn as hell but you’re not blind, Jungkook is so hot even satan would be sweating around him,” you rolled your eyes, “well if you think he’s so hot then why don’t you fuck him?” you were almost yelling at this point, completely forgetting about the others downstairs.

‘‘Obviously you want it more than I do,” You almost threw yourself out of the window, you had never sighed so dramatically in your life but at the moment you had no other way of expressing your annoyance.

“You wanted him, didn’t you?” you shot your eyes at Mina, “what do you mean?” she looked around Jimin’s room, “I mean, technically, you didn’t stop him, Jimin did,” you rolled your eyes, “yeah thank God he did,” you ran your fingers through your hair, not daring to think about what would’ve happened if Jimin hadn’t interrupted you.

“What I’m saying is, think about what would’ve happened if Jimin hadn’t interfered,” she piped innocently, a small yet creepy smile threatened to paint itself over her face, “I would’ve stopped him,” you answered a little too confidently, “would you really?”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about this - I don’t even know what it was, point is I just want to go to sleep, and you’re staying with me to stop him in case he barges in, in the middle of the night to touch me,” you let out all in one breath, “I will, but not unless you do want him to touch you.”

“I don’t!” you defended yourself, a little upset, “yeah, yeah. Just go to sleep, I’m gonna go take a shower,” Mina got up from the bed, going over to the closet to grab a towel and a few clothing items from Jimin, eventually walking into the bathroom, running the water.

You exhaustedly threw the back of your head against the pillow of the bed. Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook, you thought. Why did he have to make things so complicated for you? Why did he have to grab you the way he did?

Why did he have to make your heart beat so fast you thought it was going to explode, you weren’t going to lie to yourself, you did find Jungkook attractive, but was there more to it? Or were you just nervous and uncomfortable?

Would you have continued if Jimin hadn’t interrupted, would you have kissed him? Would you have let him touch you? Would you have touched him? What if he had-

DING DING

Cutting you out of your trance, you lazily rolled over the bed, reached for your phone that was laying peacefully on the nightstand. You clicked on the home button, making the screen light up, showing the name of the person who had messaged you.

-1m ago

Jungkook: Angel...

-now

Jungkook: Call me.

You stood there, for a solid minute just staring at your phone, God what does he want now? You decided to ignore him, placing the phone back on the nightstand and planting your face on the pillow.

RIIIIING

This motherfuc- angrily slapping your hand on the phone to pick it up, you clicked on the green button mere moments before placing it on your ear, “what?” you let out impatiently.

“Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice was heard from the other line. You froze, but not because Jungkook had called you, no, because your name rolled off his lips like a…. moan?

“What do you want..?” you asked, almost terrified of knowing the answer, but at that moment it felt like the right thing to ask, “I want you in my room,” you swore you could feel your knees shaking, even though you were sitting down they trembled.

You heard a small whimper escape from his mouth. Worry crept its way into you, “are…are you okay?” once again, you were almost terrified of asking.

“No I’m fucking not,” he growled, “you’re so rude, Y/N… you know that?” a small chuckle was heard from the other line, and again, a soft moan followed. “God, you frustrate me so much, angel,” he purred from the other line.

You felt your heart rate increase, pinching the insides of your thighs together, “Jungkook, I don’t understand…” you almost whispered, not being sure if it was unconsciously or if it was because you didn’t want Mina to hear your conversation with the boy.

“I’m in bathroom next to the master bedroom, come by and I’ll explain,” he pleaded, making it sound almost innocent, but you weren’t that stupid, you knew what was in store for you if you were enough of an idiot to commit that mistake.

“Like hell I’ll come by,” you said sternly, as if you weren’t a little hazed just a few moments ago. You had to stand your ground; you couldn’t let him fog your mind.

“P-please. It hurts…” his voice came out as a small whine, your vision suddenly went blank for a brief second, it hurts? Your confidence immediately died down, small proportions of worry started to creep its way into your body.

“J-Jungkook? What’s wrong?” you heard a sharp grunt escape the small speaker, making you flinch slightly in place.

“I need you - ahh shit - I need you to touch me, Y/N,” Only by then did it click in your mind, “My hand isn’t enough, fuck- it doesn’t even work when I imagine it’s yours,” he was touching himself, and to the thought of you.

Your knees shuddered to the bare thought of him getting off to you. You couldn’t let him break you, couldn’t let him know he had a chance to break you.

“I’m with Jaehyun, you know,” you said bluntly, another grunt was heard from the line, but this one wasn’t an aroused one, it was out of annoyance.

“And?” he growled.

“Are you serious?” you huffed in disbelief, “you can’t be this much of a jerk,” you semi-crossed you arms since your right one was occupied with your phone, “He doesn’t have to know, it can be our little s-secret, just between you and - Nghh - and me,” you scoffed at the suggestion. “Please, angel. I’ll eat you out till the crack of fucking dawn, I’ll do whatever you want me to, and you know I can make you feel really good, just- ah fuck- please. Please come over and let me have you.”

The protest dying in the back of your throat, being completely tongue-tied, you just stared at the blank wall in front of you.

“I’ll treat you and worship you like the princess you are, I’ll spread your legs and eat you out until you’re shaking in your own arousal,” your breath collapsed at the pool you felt forming between your legs.

You knew the right thing to do was to stop him talking about what he could do to you, with you, if you were in the bathroom in this very moment. The way he’d kiss you, hold you, fuck you-.

“You don’t have to do anything, just come over here and- ahhh fuck!” his unstable breath cutting him off mid-sentence, the filthy scenarios being too much to think about. “Please… Y/N, I’m begging you.”

At this point you were shaking, your own breath was beginning to grow unevenly, your fingers were trembling. You’re legs were shaking so much it hurt, if you tried to walk you knew damn well you’d fall right on your face, you were fucked.

“Jungkook stop. You’re torturing me…” you exhaled, not realising you had held your breath in the first place. “The only way I’d possibly be torturing you, is by not touching you sooner.”

You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly, desperately trying to control the pounding in your heart and the pool forming between your legs. Another whimper was heard from your phone, and the sound shot straight to your middle.

Before he could utter another word, you did the only thing you could think of: You threw the phone, making it land somewhere on a big pile of clothes that were on the ground.

You didn’t pay attention, too distracted by the sudden aching in your core, to realise you had forgotten to end the call. Though it wasn’t on speaker, you could clearly hear the loud grunts and whines from the device.

“Y/N?” you heard from the bathroom. You sprung to your feet, “shitshitshitshit,” you quickly jumped onto the pile of clothes, a very unnecessary move, and pressed the red button on your phone.

And as if scripted, Mina opened the door to a rather weird scene, “you okay?” you were laying flat on Jimin’s pile of dirty laundry with your phone in your hand.

Your gaze shifted to your best friend who was only standing with a bathrobe on her body and a towel on her head.

“Y-yeah I’m just tired,” you lie, “I’m gonna call it a night,” you stood up from the laundry and dug yourself under the covers of the bed, trying your best to fall asleep and forget everything that had just happened.

“01:09, are you kidding me,” you whispered to yourself after checking the time on your phone. It was currently one in the morning, yet you still hadn’t gotten a little shuteye. You were wide-awake, Jungkook’s words still lingering in your head. You hate that the thought of him was basically engraved in your mind.

You plopped your head back onto the pillow and looked to your side to find Mina sound asleep next to you. Oh how you envied her.

You were positive that everyone was sound asleep since you hadn’t heard a vibration of noise for the past hour, so you figured the rest of the group had decided to call it a night and lost themselves in dreamland, unlike you.

Completely giving up on the attempt to sleep, you jumped out of bed, a cold breeze hitting your bare legs. You feel the fine hair rise. You solely had a black over-sized t-shirt on the stopped just under your butt, and a pair of underwear.

You took a moment to look at your leggings on the floor; you decided to skip over them, not needing to cover your legs since you hadn’t expected to bump into anyone at this time of night.

You exited the bedroom, quietly making your way down the stairs and tiptoed your way into the kitchen to fetch a refreshing glass of cold water. You had to pass by the living room to get to the kitchen.

Jimin had been sweet enough to offer you and Mina his room, while the guys would crash in the living room. So you were extra careful when you had to pass by the many couches that had sleeping forms on them.

Finally reaching your final destination, you happily but carefully skipped over to the cabinet to get yourself a glass and filling it up with water.

Gulping down the cold liquid, you removed the cup from your mouth, placing it on the kitchen island before wiping you mouth. You went back to the refrigerator, getting the same bottle you had used to fill the glass the first time.

“Angel?” A deep voice was heard from the entrance to the kitchen. You stopped the water from trickling out of the bottle and placed it on the kitchen island. Your breath got stuck in your throat, knowing very well from the endearment in the nickname who the second presence in the room was.

“Jungkook…”

“Couldn’t sleep either?” a smug smile was threatening to plaster itself on the corner of his lips. Not wanting to give him the idea of the possibility of you not being able to catch some sleep because of whatever reason he had cockily made in mind, you simply answered, “no, I just woke up and decided to get something to drink.”

You saw him make his way into the kitchen, his eyes still locked on yours. He began to make his way around the kitchen island, heading towards you. You stepped back, beginning to walk the opposite directing in attempt to increase the amount of distance between the two of you.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, his expression falling. A slight tint of worry flashed his eyes, “no, I just don’t want you near me,” you answered, and the smug look was back.

“Do I have that much of an impact on you?” he smirked with pride, thinking you couldn’t bear to be around him in fear that you’d lose all control.

In your mind, he had completely misread the lines. “I don’t want you to touch me… again,” you whispered the last part, the color of flush ran over your cheeks, ashamed that you had let him even lay a finger on you in the first place, let alone his whole body.

“Why not?” he asked you, innocently tilting his head to the side, as if he was genuinely curious and had absolutely no idea why you’d reject him.

“For fucks sake, Jungkook. Can’t you just stop this bullshit?!” you slapped your hand flat on the countertop, earning an audible slam.

Your tone slightly moved up in volume, but you still had the thought of the others sleeping in mind. You could feel your blood starting to boil, whereas Jungkook was completely calm, which only caused your ears to steam in anger.

“But you want me.”

All color completely drained from your face, as if you deepest and darkest secret was out and exposed to the world, “don’t you even dare deny it.”

“No, you got it all wrong,” you protested, shaking your head, keeping your voice stable as you crossed your arms over your chest, causing your breasts to get pushed closer together, creating a small line of cleavage that was clearly visible through your dark yet thin t-shirt.

It didn’t come unnoticed how Jungkook’s eyes shifted down to your breasts, licking his lips, shamelessly eyeing you.

“Stop,” You uncrossed your arms, his eyes met yours again, “sorry,” you knew damn well he didn’t mean it.

“You know just as well as I, that if it wasn’t for that dull boyfriend of yours, you’d already be on this very counter, getting your brains fucked out by me.”

“Jaehyun is out of context,” you stated feebly, in the back of your mind you knew Jaehyun was the core reason as to why Jungkook hadn’t broken you yet, you just couldn’t admit it to yourself. “I don’t want you. Never did.”

“Liar.” he chuckled.

“Out by the pool,” God have mercy, “if you truly didn’t want me,” he continued, slowly making his way closer to you. You wanted to move, but it felt like your feet were glued to the floor.

“You wouldn’t have let me touch you the way you did,” he took another step, getting closer, “you wouldn’t have let me continue for so long,” and closer, “but most importantly, angel.” And closer.

“Your body wouldn’t have reacted the way it did.”

Your body shut down. The goosebumps were too much. You felt your legs giving up on you, so you quickly placed both hands behind you, reaching for the kitchen island to stable your stands.

His face stood extremely close to yours, making all the flaws that he didn’t have visible to you. His hooded eyes locked on you, scanning your face up and down and your heart stopped every time his eyes would meet your lips and keep his dark chocolate orbs fixated on the pink flesh for a second too long.

A familiar pool started forming between your legs, the same pool you had spent hours on trying to get rid of, only earlier this night.

“You know he can’t make you feel half as good as I can.” He rasped in a deep voice, inching closer to you, but not close enough.

He neared his face to yours, stopping right before his lips could graze yours, “I-I can’t do this to Jaehyun,” you almost cried out.

He was close, he was so damn close to breaking you. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your will to jump up him and attack his lips grew stronger and stronger by the second, but you still tried your utter best to restrain.

Feeling Jungkook place both hands on either side of the island, completely trapping you.

“Fuck him, he won’t know,”

Jungkook could feel his impatience eat him alive from the inside, but his rule still stood. He had to have your full consent before he could make a proper intimate move on you, because even though he needed you more than anything, he still had morals.

But this rule did not count verbally. Even though he didn’t have your full consent, that didn’t stop him from being vocal about what and how he thought about you at the sinful hours of the night, stroking his length to the thought of you underneath him, completely fucked out.

He lowered his head to you neck, slowly starting to kiss his way onto your delicate skin, nipping and licking gently. He smirked victoriously when he felt you tilt your head to the side give him more access.

Your breath grew unsteady, small pants escaped your throat, fighting the urge to tangle your fingers in his dark locks. You squeezed your thighs together, hearing a small squelching sound.

“Angel… I won’t have my way with you,” he husked, “not until you ask me.”

Not being able to bare the ache between your legs anymore, the insane beating of your heart, your younger teenage-self who so hopelessly adored the boy in front of you, begging you to let him run his fingers on every inch of your body.

“Jungkook, please…” you breathed out shakily, “please what, baby?”

You removed your fingers from the island, placing them on his hard chest.

“Please… p-put... put your hands on me.”

Not wasting another second, Jungkook grabbed your waist, lifting you up to sit on the counter. Finally, finally, crashing his lips on yours. A small moan of appreciation left your lips, you fingers still exploring his hair.

His hands made their way under your shirt, savouring the feeling of his fingers on your skin. His palms reached your chest, a small shaky groan left his lips when he felt your bare breasts, not expecting you to not wear a bra.

You felt a small smile form on his lips at the way you titled your head to deepen the kiss, and interlock your lips together.

You ran your fingers through his dark soft locks that sat perfectly just above his head, “fucking finally,” he breathed out in between the kiss.

“Finally, I have you,” his hand melted down to your thighs, pushing you closer to himself, selfishly wrapping his hands around you, caressing your bare thighs with his thumb.

You felt his warm, soft tongue poke out, smoothly gliding over your top lip, asking for entrance. Not having the patience to tease him you willingly opened up for him, letting him explore every corner of your mouth.

You scooted closer to his pelvis, adding a fraction of pressure, causing his breath to shudder in the kiss, “Jungkook…”

“Yes, angel?”

“Bedroom.”

Without another word he wrapped his arms around your waist, and on instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He lifted you up from the counter and made his way out of the kitchen with you in his arms.

The way up the stairs and into the bedroom was a blur, too caught up in his odor, you dug your face in his neck, taking in his scent which smelt like freshly cleaned laundry which had been drying out near the ocean.

When you finally reached the bedroom, Jungkook gently laid you down on the bed, and hovered over you. His lips brushed against your neck for a brief second before beginning to place small kitten licks and pecks on the sensitive skin.

While Jungkook was busy with your neck, you took the time to take in your surroundings, your hooded eyes suddenly widening, “holy shit, this is Jimin’s parents’ room,” you breathed out in a pant.

“I know,” the boy hovered over you, answering cooingly, his look was completely fucked out, pupils had been blown out wide, leaving no trail of evidence that his big orbs were originally brown, lips parted as small uneven breaths escaped and reappeared.

“We can’t do it here,” you protested, trying to wiggle yourself out of Jungkook’s body warmth, “I don’t care.”

“No. Jungkook, we seriously can’t do it in his parents’ room, there’s a guest room just down the hall, let’s just-“

“I don’t give a shit.”

He growled lowly, finally removing himself from your neck, averting his eyes onto you – and that’s when you saw it. The sight that squeezed the remainders of your purity out of you.

Jungkook’s eyes had turned the darkest you had ever seen them, lust overflowing the brown orbs that held the universe. His cheeks flushed a bright red color, slightly staining the tip of his nose too. Small strands of hair stuck to his forehead from the beads of sweat.

And his lips, they had turned a few shades darker and increased slightly in size, the swollen flesh also glistening from being generously coated in his own saliva. You were sure that your saliva coated a few corners of his lips as well.

You felt a sinful swirl form in your stomach at the unholy sight of him.

“I’ve waited for this moment, you have no idea... I’m not waiting another goddamn second to have you.” He moaned against your lips, making you feel a type of way only the devil himself could make you feel.

Not giving you a chance to respond, he reunited his lips with yours again, lovingly dancing over your two plush lips.

He detached from your lips for a second, but only to remove the white plain shirt he had worn. Your eyes immediately fell down to his naked upper body.

He was so well built, so lean and toned. It was as if God had spent that one sunday carving his body perfectly instead of resting, every detail made to perfection. His abs were solid, chest was rock-hard, and his thighs... Those sinister thighs that looked like they had been carved from steal with the help of the greek gods themselves – fuck, you wanted to ride them.

It didn’t dawn upon you that you had been eye-fucking Jungkook so openly. Your eyes were basically screaming your malevolent thoughts, and oh how it didn’t go unnoticed by him... a filthy smirk grew on his lips, catching you in the act of shame.

You averted your eyes somewhere else, embarrassed about the fact that you had basically been mentally fucking him with your eyes.

Not wasting another second, Jungkook reattached your lips with his, leaving sloppy kisses on the red, swollen outline of your lips. It was as if your lips themselves, were blushing.

He caught your bottom lip in between his teeth, only to soothe the fresh bruise with his warm tongue, securely gliding over the red flesh caused you to whine into his mouth.

His fingers slithered down to the hem of your black shirt, “I want it off,” and with that, the shirt was off, joining Jungkook’s white one, down on the floor somewhere.

He stepped back, taking a good look at your now exposed chest. Your cheeks embarrassingly turned a shade of pink, from the way your nipples had perked up, nice and ready to be given any form of attention by him.

The only sound filling the room was Jungkook’s tongue secreting his lips.

Growing shy of his stare you discreetly tried to cover up your chest with your arms, but you only ended up with Jungkook’s fingers locked securely around your wrists, shoving them far away from your breasts, “don’t do that.”

You averted your eyes. Your face softened gently when you saw he almost looked... sad? The idea of you wanting to hide yourself from him in embarrassment made him want to kiss each, and every inch of you, praising you and your heavenly beauty.

He had your hands pinned to the sides of your head, hovered above you perfectly. Small pretty pants leaving his swollen lips, looking you dead in the eye.

He slowly let go when he felt the tension in your wrists loosen up. He descended his way down your body, placing pecks of affection here and there. Until he stopped right in front of your heat.

He glanced at the drenched spot on your grey underwear, a small smirk dancing its way on his lips, “you’re this drenched and you didn’t bother to let me know?”

Hesitantly you shook your head, “that’s no good, angel.” He shrugged, curling a finger around the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling the fabric down to and past your ankles, making the piece of cotton join the rest of the bundle of clothing on the floor.

He ran his middle finger down your slit, “who got you this wet, baby?” you whined at the feeling of his cold fingers on your soaked heat. His finger slit back up, meeting your swollen clit. You hissed. “Y-you...”

He pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb, followed by a firm press to your abused numb. You gasped, gripping his wrist at the mixture of pain and pleasure, your thighs were twitching at this point, “what was that, baby? you have to use your words properly.”

“You! ahhh you, J-Jungkook, you made me this wet... your doing.”

He placed three tender kisses to your lips, “fuck, such a good girl.” two more kisses because, why not?

“How many can you take?”

Slightly confused at his words, you tilted you head and raised an eyebrow, “wha – oh god…” you felt the two digits shoved up your hole stretching your walls out deliciously, “you take too long to answer, angel.”

He curled and scissored his digits in all kinds of direction, causing your walls to clench around him in attempt to suck him in even further into you, “babyyy, you take my fingers so well. This pretty cunt sucking on my fingers like that.”

He started thrusting his fingers into you in a fast pace, causing you to choke on a moan at the back of you throat.

Your back arched as your eyes rolled so far back you swore your could see the front of you brain. “You see, Y/N.” He fastened his pace, “slow isn’t really my pace.”

You locked your fingers tightly around his wrist as if it would help with the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, “s-shit. Jungkook... Jungkook – p-please… Not so—fuck—not so f-fast.”

Completely ignoring you he continued to thrust his fingers in you at the same pace. Too embarrassed to be vocal, you reached for the nearest pillow and shoved your face in it, desperately trying to mute your whimpers and whines.

But just your luck, within seconds the pillow was gone from your face, making even the slightest breath audible, “no, no, no, no,” he stared at you deeply “I want to hear you,” the sight alone making you shudder.

A loud moan escaped your throat when he curled his fingers, hitting your spot just right. But his fingers weren’t enough, you needed to feel more. “Jungkook, can you—haah.”

He smiled, “can I what?”

The way his fingers were playing with your cunt made your spine arch off the bed deliriously, “use your words, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna know what you want.”

“Mmm more, n-need more, I need your t-tongue.”

Disappointingly he shook his head disapprovingly, “I’m sorry, angel.” You frowned.

“You were selfish enough to keep the secret of your wet cunt to yourself, so my fingers are all you’re going to get for now.”

A cry left your mouth at his rejection, he kept scraping his digits in you, occasionally thrusting them in and out of your dripping core.

He rubbed your inner thigh with his other free hand when he saw your legs beginning to tremble, running small circles with his thumb in attempt to soothe the overwhelming sensations.

You tried to stop his hands from thrusting any further into you, you didn’t want to come on his fingers, you wanted to come on his cock, “t-that’s enough.”

“No, you’re about to cum… I can feel it.”

He fastened his pace even more, if that was even possible, “I w-want to cum while you’re inside of m-me.”

“And you will.” You shot your eyes to his direction. “Baby, this won’t be the only time you cum tonight.” He smirked while his fingers were still working their magic on you.

Seeing the distress in your face, he frowned innocently, the darkness in his eyes vanishing for a small moment, “have you never cum more than once in one night?”

Averting your eyes down to your side, avoiding eye contact with him, you slowly shook your head.

Sex with Jaehyun was a little… selfish. For the most part he kept it sweet and short, foreplay never lasting longer than a few kisses and touches until he moved on straight to penetration.

And that would either hurt since he hadn’t prepped you enough for him to enter you, which usually ended up with Jaehyun quickly running to the bathroom to grab a handful of lube and get back into bed with you.

You didn’t finish every time, which you knew was normal, but with the little amount of effort he had put into trying to please you in bed made you knowledgable of the fact that it was hard for you to release when Jaehyun never touched you properly in the areas you needed..

You even began questioning if it was your fault. Was there something wrong with your sex? Why were you barely able to finish?

You didn’t want to be that type of girl, so you kept telling yourself that sex really wasn’t the most important thing in your relationship, you had your trusted vibrator to temporarily sedate you from your release deprivation. You knew, god, you knew that the little private sessions at night you had wouldn’t satisfy you forever.

You didn’t know what reaction from Jungkook you had expected, but you certainly didn’t expect him to place a tender kiss to your clit, followed by a long lick along your folds. A strangled gasp ripped from your already sore throat.

Looking down at your legs you saw Jungkook’s face placed perfectly in between them, eyes dark again and locked on yours, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration and pleasure. You couldn’t say with certainty that you were the one enjoying this the most.

His arms wrapped around your thighs, pushing your cunt further against his mouth.

The tip of his nose creating friction against your soaked clit had all sorts of pleasurable emotions run through your skin.

“Where have you been, angel?”

Jungkook panted heavily still looking you in the eyes, he had removed himself from your folds, giving you a perfect glance of his face, which was drenched in your arousal. His nose was red, and lightly coated with your essence, lips were red and plump, panting as if he had run marathon. Your arousal had even reached his chin, a single droplet threatening to descend from his skin down onto the sheet, The sight alone causing your core to clench around nothing, “oh fuck,” he was so beautiful.

Jungkook reattached his lips back to your cunt, continuing to apply a good amount of pressure on your clit, occasionally licking a few rough licks along your slit.

He cupped his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently, but just enough for you to squirm under the suction. The sucking soon got replaced by wet kisses on the edges of your swollen lips, inhumane noises left your lungs.

A dark chuckle left his lips when he felt you desperately pushing your legs further apart to allow him more access. He dug his face deeper into your middle as he continued to lick his way around you making your toes curl and stomach turn deliciously.

You felt him piston his hips against the mattress roughly to relieve some much needed friction, causing the bed to shake, the headboard barely touching the wall. The sounds escaping him sounded like sobs.

You felt the knot in your stomach begging to be untied, “cum – I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Let go, all of it. Don’t you dare hold back.” And with that being said, you let the immense rush of pleasure run through your body continuously. Your walls aggressively clenching around his tongue, causing him to let out a shaky moan.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Jungkook breathed out. You flinched at the feeling of his tongue touching your swollen lips, propping yourself up to rest your weight on you elbows to get a good look at him.

“N-no, Jungk-kook. I’m s-sensitive.” You tried to push yourself away from his mouth, too overstimulated for him to touch you, but he only wrapped his arms tighter around your thighs to push you further in against him.

You bucked your hips up at the overstimulation, a loud moan leaving your lips, Jungkook grunting lowly in response.

“I-I can’t help it, you taste so fucking good,” he whispered breathlessly. “It’s so warm, so soft, so tight.” He eyed your slit hungrily, running a finger admiringly along the opening, causing a shaky breath to leave your lungs.

“How the fuck can you feel so tight, when I’m just using my tongue?” He slowly inserted the tip of his tongue in your slit, being careful with not making you enjoy it more than he’d like you to.

“I could eat you out for hours if we had the time,” he moaned out, licking his lips which had your excess juices on. “I’d make sure you’d know just how much I love your pussy.” He placed a small kiss on your folds.

You felt your heart throb at the small actions of affection.

Jungkook made your heart swell in delight, a way Jaehyun couldn’t. Everytime Jungkook touched you, he was so gentle, as if he was afraid he could break you with a simple raspberry on the forehead.

But he also wasn’t afraid to have his rough way with you, he wasn’t afraid of completely ruining your body. He knew very well what effect he had on you and he made sure to take advantage of it,

He made sure you knew how good you felt on him, how much he loved it. He made sure you felt comfortable, respected, adored.

He awoke feelings in you, you didn’t know existed at all. Jaehyun had never treated you like this…

You felt like an absolute asshole for constantly comparing your boyfriend to Jungkook mentally, but you couldn’t help it. All these new feelings and actions, those were so new to you, something you had never experienced.

And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you’d never, ever, imagined Jungkook to be your boyfriend when you were younger, impure scenarios that you would replay in your head almost every night before you fell asleep, was part of the package deal.

Is this what it was supposed to feel like?

“Something wrong, angel?”

Losing your train of thought, you hadn’t realized you had been sitting there, staring at Jungkook as if your system had malfunctioned.

“Jungkook… I need you to fuck me, now” he removed his face from your middle, eyes shooting to your face in surprise at your bold statement. Until now you had been quiet and shy, so of course Jungkook hadn’t pegged you to be a firery type in bed.

“Please, I-I can’t wait anymore,” you pleaded, your words coming out as small cries, “I need to feel you stretch me out, I need to feel myself clench around your cock while you fuck me, I need to feel you break me.”

Both your eyes were widen, neither of you knew you had it in you to say such words. “oh fuck,” Jungkook’s trembling fingers hastily reached behind to his back pocket to reach for a condom, but before he could go any further you stopped him, “I-I’m on the pill.”

The possibility of Jungkook being able to feel you, skin to skin had his pre-cum drenched shaft twitch in your direction. You swore you could see it point at you.

Remaining eye contact, Jungkook hovered above you, shoving both your knees apart roughly, lowering his frame down on you. Matching your uneven breaths, he placed both forearms parallel to your head on both sides, his face placed closely to yours.

You felt his precum-coated tip align at your soaked entrance. He arched his back upwards, curling his hips into yours. The first couple of inches stretching out your warm flower.

A soft gasp left your lips at the unfamiliar stretch. You arched your back as you closed your eyes, causing your naked chest to meet Jungkook’s.

He kept going deeper and deeper into you, until he finally had you all stretched out. You tried breathing softly, but couldn’t. The feeling of being so filled up overwhelmed you.

It had been months since you had gotten a good fuck, so your vaginal muscles had had plenty of time to tighten up again.

Moments passed, yet you still didn’t feel Jungkook move inside of you, so you opened your eyes to get a good look at what was preventing him from moving. The sight you saw right before your eyes had your heart swell in adoration.

“Y/N, I… I’m inside you,” he let out, barely above a whisper, yet still somehow audible to the human ear. He was staring down at the part where you two had been connected. He eyed himself disappearing in you in such amazement, it made your cheeks turn a shade of red.

You couldn’t take it anymore—he was there, inside of you, yet he still didn’t move. You needed just something. “…Jungkook, move,” you said clear enough for him to hear, but still completely dazed, he didn’t move an inch.

You sighed out a breathy sigh, deciding to take matters into your own hands, you mustered up all your strength to clench around him in order to feel him properly.

You heard air get stuck in Jungkook’s throat at your bold move, his eyes shot up to you, a hazy look stained all over his eyes. His pupils dilated, so dark and doe, you could see your own reflection in them clearly.

You threw your head back as you clenched around him some more when you still didn’t feel him moving inside of you. A soft moan leaving your mouth unlike Jungkook. “Y/N, w-wait—ahh,” A high-pitched noise left his throat as he shut his eyes closed. A line formed between his two eyebrows at how hard he was grimacing.

Your breath hitched in realisation.

He was close.

You had barely moved, but he was so close. Just a few single digit strokes and he’d burst. That’s why he wasn’t moving, he was trying to savor this moment, he didn’t want this to end, he was trying to remember you like this, underneath him, squirming, fucked out. Just like him.

You moved your fingers to hover over Jungkook’s cheeks. His eyes opening up again, and your heart clenched a little. He looked like he was about to cry, whines continuously leaving his mouth, his cheeks and nose covered by a light blush.

He somehow managed to keep his eyes fixated on you. Your thumb caressed gently over his warm cheek, and he immediately melted into your touch.

“Jungkook,” you purred softly, “baby...” you saw him visibly shudder at the pet-name, he didn’t answer, waiting for you to continue.

“Please move,” it came out darker than you intended to.

He lowered his head down to meet yours, his lips barely hovering over yours, resting with his eyes lazily open. You puckered your lips slightly thinking he had the intentions to kiss you, but his lips simply remained resting on yours.

“Jung- FUCK!”

He thrusted his hips harshly against yours, your brain made up a ripping sound as you swore to yourself that something was torn apart in your lower region.

His wet lips pecked yours, only to pull away after when a loud grunt tore from his throat, “fuck… I’m n-not going to—shit—last very l-long.” You nodded understandingly as you were not far from becoming undone.

“How are you so fucking t-tight?” he growled, “did that boyfriend of yours ever even fuck you properly?” He asked out of breath, slamming his hips into your cunt harder.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you this good, angel.” Too drained from the immense pleasure, all you were able to do was roll your eyes to the back of your head in response, “say it,” the speed of his hips increased, “tell me I’m the only one,” you were on the verge of tears when you felt his tip brush your cervix.

“You’re the only – a-ahh – you’re the only one who knows how to fuck me, Jungkook.”

You looked down to where you and Jungkook were aligned perfectly together, the sight of him disappearing in you only to reappear moments later had your stomach curling deliciously in all directions. You unintentionally clenched around him at the arousing sight.

What you didn’t know, was that Jungkook had caught you in your filthy moment. A hoarse chuckle escaped his mouth, “you like watching me fuck you?” You tangled your fingers in his hair at his unholy words. Whining, you nodded your head yes.

In dark pride, Jungkook jerked his hips harder into you, words of encouragement such as yes, or, don’t stop, urged him on to continue to completely rearrange your guts.

You felt Jungkook twist and turn his hips experimentally, each thrust hitting a new spot in you, “what are you—oh my… god,” he smirked in victory.

“Found her,” and once found, Jungkook repeatedly hit the spongy spot, causing you to come closer and closer to your high. Heavy breaths and skin slapping against one another filled the room. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his hands snaking down to your legs, bending your knees to allow himself to burry his cock deeper into you.

“No, angel,” he growled.

“Look at me,” he continued, “I want you to look at me while I fuck you... Look at me,” you obediently open your eyes, making it impossible for you to look away again. Your eyebrows furrowed at the pleasure, Jungkook mirrored your expression. “J-just like that.”

His eyes ran all over your face, even going as far as going down along your exposed body.

Eyeing your body freely as if the same rules didn’t apply to him. “I-I’m almost there,” Jungkook took this as a sign to give you his all. He crashed his soft lips onto yours and practically forced his tongue between your lips to explore every untouched inch of your warm muscle.

He wrapped his wet fingers that were covered in your previous release, around your own fingers. Pinning one hand over your head as he continued to slam his hips into your own. A heavy breath mixed with a moan escaping your lips that were now coated in Jungkook’s saliva.

The intimate position slammed all the oxygen out of your lungs. Occupied with the unnecessary yet affectionate move that he pulled off, it came completely unnoticed when he snaked his free hand down you chest, past your stomach, down to your core, he slowly, but with enough friction, started rubbing meaningless patterns on your clit. A sharp inhale tore through your throat at the add-on pleasure.

His tongue continued to slide its way in various ways. The kiss needy and heated, you tried your best to keep up with his pace. Sloppy openmouthed kisses were given, causing the drips of saliva to drip down from the side of your lip, unsure if the mucus belonged to him or you.

Your moans moved up in volume, letting Jungkook know that you were dangerously close to finally releasing. “Let me have it – fuck... cum on my cock, please cum like the pretty angel you are,” he cooed over your lips, shoving your knees apart even further to go even deeper in you, making sure that he had hit every part of your insides before you had the chance to release.

“Jungkook!”

And that was the final straw for you. Finally, all the moves that had helped build up to this very release, your stomach uncurled at the rush of please burning thoroughly through you, all the way to the tip of your fingers. Trails of fire were felt on every inch of your body. Never had you ever felt an orgasm so intense.

His name managed to escaped your lips once more while he continued to jolt himself into you. You let out a tired whine. Still recovering from your orgasm, you began squirming at the overstimulation, “Jungkook I can’t – I can’t.”

“yes, baby, I know you can t-take it.” completely tongue-tied, all the words stuck in your throat, you somehow managed to nod at him, urging him to chase his own release, “fuck, such an angel you are, yeah?” he pecked your forehead, a grunt escaped his lips, the sound-waves hitting the skin of your sweaty forehead.

Hitting just the right spot, a whine left your mouth along with a tight clench around his cock. “S-shit, do that again…” Jungkook panted dropping his face into your neck, desperately trying to chase his own high.

You obediently clenched the hardest you could one last time around him, striving after his orgasm just as hard as himself.

And finally, you felt him shoot his load into you, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. A shudder ran down his spine as he felt you milking every last drop of his load out of him.

You moaned at the feeling of the warm liquid coating your walls perfectly.

“Y-Y/N,” he purred, collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You closed your eyes in attempt to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.

“That was…”

“Holyfuckingshit,”

Your eyes jolted open at the feeling of a finger being shoved up your hole. You gasped in overstimulation, hastily gripping at Jungkook’s wrist, “J-Jungkook, no. I can’t anymore.”

He smiled coyly at your worried expression, pride filling his chest at the thought of him having driven you to your limit. “I know, angel,” he started, “I just don’t want you to drip.”

He smiled cockily at you, finishing shoving his load deep into you, making sure not a single drop could leak out.

He rested his head against your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat slowly steady itself. The sound of your beating heart soothed him in a way he couldn’t describe.

Looking up at your face to ask you what all of this had meant to you, a small twinge of disappointment washed over his face when he saw your form fast asleep.

But the disappointment didn’t last too long when your cute form lightly snoring made his heart swell up.

He couldn’t help but wrap his arms tightly around your waist, comfortably laying his head on you chest, listening soothingly to your steady heartbeat. He blushed at the fact that your heartbeat fell perfectly in sync with his.

He smiled lightly before placing a soft kiss on your slightly parted lips. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

–

A/N: OMG THIS SHIT TOOK ME FOREVER TO FINISH, my writers-block had me ready to yell in 67 different languages. a n y w a y, hope you liked it lovelies, sry for any grammar mistakes or anything of the sort<3

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hot-wiings · 4 years

Text

Edited: 1-18-20

Tip Jar

I think I lost, again. You look like you're mad. In a blur, game over, over, over. If this was a game. I could just load it again. I guess I gotta deal with this, deal with this real-world. It'd be better if it was a game. Because it hurts so much. I need to heal my medic. But I'm another star. Blame myself since I was imperfect. Brake in my head, brake in my step, always. All I wanted was to do well. I wanted to make you smile, damn. Please give me a remedy. A remedy to make my heartbeat again.

You stood beside your boyfriend Hitoshi Shinsou, as you waited for Vlad King, the substitute teacher to pair up students to spar against each other.

"I hope we don't get paired together."

"Yeah. If we did I’d have to kick my boyfriend's ass."

"More like I'd have to let my girlfriend win."

"I can beat you anytime in any day 'Toshi."

Hitoshi wraps his arm around you and you nuzzle your head into his side.

"Only because I get distracted by your beauty."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Kitten, I can think of a few places it will take me."

You blush and look at the ground as your cheeks heat up.

"Shut up, Vlad's coming over here."

"Fukukado you’re against Todoroki. Shinsou you're against Midoriya."

“You got this.”

You watched with weary eyes as your father stood off to the side with the rest of the teachers. Your father was a pro-hero, the unfortunate side to that was that he worked at UA, the school you were attending.

“Thanks.”

Hitoshi kisses you on the cheek for good and then you walked over to the arena to face your opponent.

Whenever your father watched you fight you were both nervous and ready. He put an immense amount of pressure on you to succeed. You had to bring good to the family name. This both gave you the motivation to succeed and fear of failure.

Unfortunately, today you had more fear than motivation. You were supposed to take down Todoroki. Battling Todoroki with your quirk was difficult. Your quirk was Outburst. You used your quirk to make people outburst into uncontrollable laughter. This laughter impairs opponents' cognitive abilities, allowing you to take them down.

In order to make the opponent laugh uncontrollably is by getting them to laugh at a joke you tell them. Todoroki is a very serious guy. He doesn't joke or smile much, this was going to be a hard battle.

Shouto sends a blast of ice towards you which you dodge by jumping out of the way. This guy wastes no time getting into battle, you had to make him laugh and fast.

“How'd the hipster drown? He tried ice skating before it was cool!”

Shouto doesn't laugh but rather sends another wave of ice your way.

“You can do better than that.”

“Alright. What do you call a pig that does karate? A pork chop.”

Shouto again does not find your jokes funny and sends more ice your way. If he did not have ice powers you would have wrung his neck. You are a very funny person, this is insulting.

“Atheism is a non-prophet organization.”

This time Shouto uses his fire to hit you. He never uses his fire so that must mean he was overextending himself. You needed to make him laugh and fast before he got warm enough to use his ice.

Your strategy was futile because you hadn't been watching where you were going. You slipped on ice that was on the ground from when he earlier hit at you. This made you fall so when he threw his fire at you, you didn't dodge him.

The clothing on the upper-left side of your body was gone and you had burns on your arms. Shouto hadn't meant to hit you with fire, he only meant to warm himself up. Shouto, angry at himself for using fire, pushes you out of the rink with his ice.

Hitoshi rushes over to you, ice pack in his hand. He pushes the ice pack onto your arm and places his uniform jacket over you to cover up your lack of clothing.

"How's your arm feel? I'm taking you to recovery girl."

"I’m fine. I should've been able to defeat him."

“It was a good fight, better than the last time. You'll get better.”

Hitoshi was right, you had gotten better since you last battled Shouto, but the glare your father sends your way makes you feel indifferent. He was angry at you. He had high expectations that he wants you to meet. You never did meet his expectations.

What should I do now? Please save me, give me another chance. Please give me, a remedy, a melody. A memory that will be left just for me. If I stop right now. If I just turn it off, will all will be more comfortable? I'm fine but I'm not fine. I told myself I was used to it. It always hurts like it's the first time. Not a good gamer, that's right, you can't control me. It keeps hurting 'cause of trial and error and 50,000-something else. My song lyrics, each gesture. I become afraid of every word, my jamais vu.

You bite your lip as your dad yells at you. You made one mistake, but he had to know how hard it was to battle Todoroki. He was at the top of the class for a reason. None of that mattered. To him, beating Todoroki was just a stepping stone to your career.

"That's the second time Todoroki has bested you. Aren't you training?"

"I am."

"Then is it that boyfriend of yours? What's his name... Hiroshi? Satoshi? Is he distracting you? Do I need to separate you two?"

"No!"

You bite your tongue and look at the ground after you yelled back at him. That probably just made your dad delightful.

"You need to work harder. Your brother is at the very top of his class at Ketsubutsu Academy. You need to train more like him."

You struggle to keep the tears in your eyes. After your parents divorced your brother was all you ever heard about. [Brothers Name] this, [Brothers Name] that. You tried to understand that it was because your brother went with your mom and your dad just missed him, but lately, all your dad did was compare you to him.

None of your accomplishments mattered because he only saw your shortcomings. To each shortcoming, he would tell you how your brother was so much better. You honestly wondered if he wished he had custody of your brother instead of you.

"I'll train harder. I'll be better than [Brothers Name]."

Again, I try to escape as always. But still, you grab me. Even as my shadow grows. My life and yours are an equal sign. So my remedy is your remedy. Please give me a remedy. A remedy that will make my heartbeat again. (Remedy.) What should I do now? Please save me, give me another chance. Please give me a. (Remedy.) Run and run again, stumble again. (Honestly.) Even if it repeats forever. I'll keep running. So give me a remedy.

Your training was hell. You couldn't strengthen your quirk much, the most you could do was find funnier jokes to tell. Other than memorizing a few new joke books you practiced in combat training with your father.

No matter how many times you beat your father, the pro-hero, he didn't praise you. According to him, there was still room for improvement.

You looked at yourself in the bathtub. You had bruises and scraps all over you. Your wounds from training ached and you missed Hitoshi. You’d been seeing less of him ever since you started to up your training time. Overall you just felt lonely.

You tried so hard to make your dad happy, to make him proud, but it never worked. You were always left smiling through the pain of rejection.

It wasn't fair. He didn't love you, he loved his son. Your brother would only ever be good enough and you would always be in his shadow.

You hadn't even seen your brother in years three years. you would be able to see your brother and mother on the day of the provisionary hero license exam. Truthfully you were scared to see them. Your father has spent so much time telling you how much better your brother is that you began to wonder if there was a reason your mother took custody of your brother and not you.

What if she thought you were weak?

What if she preferred your brother like your father did?

What if she didn't love you anymore?

The negative thoughts begin to surface and cloud your head. You wished you had a remedy to heal the feelings. You laughed and joked with your classmates and you put up a facade around your boyfriend when deep down you were hurting. You wished you could just escape it all.

You stood up from the bathtub and grabbed a bottle of doctor prescribed Ritalin before sitting back in the tub. You open the bottle and hesitantly pour some in your hand.

Hitoshi's face pops in your head. Were you really going to do this? How would this affect him? The face of your father washes that away. You were never enough for him so why would you be enough for Hitoshi?

You were doing the world a great justice. The absence of [Y/N] Fukukado, Joker, The Laughing Hero, would not affect anybody.

You put more pills in your hand and throw them in your mouth. You lay back in the bath and let the effects of the drugs take over. The last thing you hear before you blackout is the sound of knocking on the door.

A remedy that will make my heartbeat again. (Remedy.) What should I do now? Please save me, give me another chance. Please give me a remedy. (So is this success, I came back.) A remedy that will make my heartbeat again. (I'll concentrate on reaching you no matter what, falling, stumbling.) What should I do now? (This familiar pain seizes on me again.) Save me. (It's not easy this time either.) Please give me another chance. (Am I giving up? No, no never.) I won't give up

Hitoshi had been a mess since he brought you to the hospital. He had bags under his eyes and his hands felt shaky from the unholy amount of coffee he had consumed since he got here five hours ago.

Shouta put a hand on his apprentice’s shoulder in concern.

"We've been here a few hours, sit down and sleep. I’ll stay up and wait for the doctors."

"No. I can't– I– I wanna be awake. I wanna see her as soon as possible."

Shouta sighs knowing there was no changing his pupil's mind. He only hoped, for both your sake and Hitoshi's, that you were alright.

Your dad arrived at the hospital. He looked like he had just woken up. Hitoshi didn't know if your dad had previously been patrolling or sleeping, but he hated him for it.

"Where have you been? She's been– We've been here for five almost six hours!"

"Hitoshi, I was patrolling. I didn't have phone access–"

Your father goes to put his hand on Hitoshi's shoulder in a sympathetic way but Shouta cuts your father off by grabbing his forearm.

"I think it’s best you left him alone."

He should have been here with you five hours ago like Hitoshi was. Hitoshi blamed your father. Hitoshi wasn't dumb. He knew your father put pressure on you. Pressure to be the best, pressure to measure up to unrealistic standards.

Hitoshi also blamed himself. He knew the pressure you were being put under. How you strived to be the best for your father. He should’ve seen the signs of depression, of your loneliness. He should've but he didn't.

The doctor walked over to Hitoshi and your father with a look in his face that could only be described as apologetic remorse. A face every doctor had to make.

"Mr. [Last Name.]"

"What's my daughter's condition?"

"Your daughter ingested a large amount of Ritalin. We pumped her stomach, but some of the medication had already begun to affect her brain. She's survived but she went into a coma. She's awake now."

"Can we see her?"

"Right this way."

The doctor led them down some halls towards your room. They walked in and saw you lying on the hospital bed with messy hair spread all around and eyes darting across the unfamiliar room.

Even with tubes and wires coming out of your arms, even in your messed up state, Hitoshi thought you were the most beautiful creature to have existed.

"Oh, Kitten... I– I thought you were dead."

Hitoshi rushes towards you and grabs your hand. Hitoshi expected a warm welcome, he, however, did not expect you to pull your hand away from his.

"I'm sorry... Who are you?"

"What do you mean? It's me, Hitoshi. Your boyfriend."

"I'm sorry. I don't know you."

The doctor pulls your father and boyfriend outside to talk away from you.

"Unfortunately some coma patients show side effects after waking up. Have you heard the term Jamais Vu?"

Jamais Vu. French borrowing meaning "never seen," refers to the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that one recognizes in some fashion, but nonetheless seems very unfamiliar.

Hitoshi remembered reading it on the back of a book in the library. Common among coma patients, it is the feeling where you can't remember something although you feel you should remember it. In short terms, it was memory loss.

Hitoshi turns to your father, hate in his eyes.

"This is your fault. You put so much pressure on her. She just wanted you to love her. Do you even remember the last time you told her you loved her?"

Hitoshi makes the maneuver to punch your father but Shouta pulls him back. At that moment he didn't care if he looked like a villain, he had just lost the person he cared about most.

"It could take weeks for her to remember, or it could be forever. You just wrecked her life and career, I hope you're happy."

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cyanpeacock · 5 years

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that comic is big hueg mood and i value it a lot.

mental illness really isn’t about “oh just be thankful for what you CAN do!”

it’s sometimes (always?) about “i know i’m capable of doing Even Better, if i just had some help! i’m not well! i’m thankful every day that i’m not worse, but it fucking burns me to know how much better i COULD be doing with more support!!”

and if you appear to be high-functioning, even if that level is like, abysmal compared to what you know your mind and body would actually be capable of in better circumstances, you sort of get... abandoned? like, “oh, that one is doing well enough.” and seeking out the necessary support to improve your functioning level requires SO much time and energy that it is literally killing people.

like i have so many suicide attempts i can’t count them under my belt. i’ve got self harm scars on every limb and they number, like... well, it’s in the hundreds, for sure. i’ve got no IRL social network. a lot of my daily energy goes on regulating emotions and processing trauma. i can’t drive, i can assemble some food sometimes but can’t reliably cook, etc etc.

and because i’m in university - still there by sheer force of will, because this is the ONLY thing that might land me in reasonable comfort in the future - and not in trouble with the school, i’ve been written off again and again by mental health services. it’s always, “come back in six months,” or “here’s a referral for a 12-week group, in two years’ time,” and “oh, has it been two months? i’m sorry, we haven’t got around to allocating you a community psychiatric nurse yet”

i’m here like, what... the fuck? i feel like, it’s been assumed i’m a person of average ability, with minor problems, and i can just Get On With It. when actually, i’m well aware i’m a person of exceptional academic ability, with really quite significant social, emotional, and mental health problems, particularly like... in terms of trust. and it makes me fucking furious, and at times ashamed, that i’m coming up to 22 years old, my secondary school peers are graduating, and i’m only just going into second year. i was ahead of my peers for So Long. i should still be there. but because nobody believes i need fucking help, i’m getting delayed more and fucking more!!! it burns me!!!!!

like, of course i can fucking Get On With It. that’s all i CAN do, it’s my Priority, My Degree Is My Life This Secures A Future I Could Accept. i can learn semantic information without ever fucking touching my trust/interpersonal issues. and i don’t think anybody just skimming my case notes can grasp how much this fucking course means to me, how much sheer fucking aggression i’ve had to channel to get here, to stay here.

like they don’t see how i haul myself out of my apartment when i’m fucking suicidal to show to the lectures. how I take notes from the lecture recordings for every. single. lecture. i miss because i’m too exhausted or overwhelmed to make it to the hall. how i never chat in the lab because i’m scared as hell and have to get into a mindset that goes I’m Here To Fucking Learn Not To Make Friends, although i’d really like to make friends. how exam revision takes priority to the exclusion of eating and sleeping, how I have to set myself timers and force myself to eat and sleep, how my walls get covered in webs and webs of colourful revision post-it notes and i spend hours and hours arranging them Perfectly so i can remember the whole thing as a 3D spatial map inside my brain. how i give myself eyestrain and migraines from staring at books and screens for so long, how i don’t fucking wash myself, or clean my apartment, or say a word to anyone but myself for days or weeks. how i’m so fucking hurt that it took me two years to do first year, how i’m having to go part time for second year. like, this is not healthy learning. this is, I’m Going To Die If I Don’t Cling The FUCK On To This Opportunity, This Lucky Fucking Break That Is Going To Save My Life. and i’m NOT fucking giving it up.

they don’t seem to see that AT THE SAME TIME i’ve been off on my fucking own learning and practicing DBT skills, how i taught myself to meditate when my mind is still screaming Kill Yourself Kill Yourself Kill Yourself, how i’ve been seeing a private counsellor who i can’t afford from the wallet but who i have to afford so i don’t try to kill myself even more fucking often. how i’ve been looking around to try and find like, a faith that might give me more reason to keep fighting, how i do all that shit like taking walks in nature and working out and maintaining a good sleep schedule, and yet, i’m Still Not Well.

like here i am with the SAME trauma spinning around my head and the SAME terror of social situations and the SAME goddamn increasing fear every time i push myself to “just join a group!! just talk to people!! it gets easier the more you do it!!!”

that’s the FUCKING PROBLEM! i’m DOING all the easy shit, all the “just make lifestyle changes! :) x”!!!!!!! there is still shit that gets HARDER the more i do it!!!!!!! i get MORE anxious and MORE scared and MORE defensive and MORE avoidant the more i push myself to Just Talk To People and the better somebody knows me, because the more they know, the more they have to use as a fucking weapon! this is why I shut down and say “Oh you know I’m okay :)” in my fucking appointments!!!! because they send me to SO MANY different people, who BARELY skim my case notes, and i have no opportunity to develop enough trust with them to tell them the whole truth! which is, “dude, i feel like shit. i’m behind where i Should be given my age and ability. i have no friends, i’m terrified of people who start to get to know me. i’m constantly trying to process trauma, but it’s always the same pain, and then i remember something else painful, and it’s all more fucked up the older i get, and there’s a limit to what i can do about this alone, and i’m overwhelmed. i’m used to it, because i’ve been living this way for so fucking long, but i’m furious, because you people should have KEPT me from getting used to living like this. and i Don’t. Want. To Live. This. Way. Forever.”

they haven’t even given me the fucking opportunity to build ANY significant, long-term therapeutic relationship with ANY NHS mental health practitioner. i haven’t seen anybody for more than like, three appointments, except my goddamn private counsellor, who is a blessing and lets me pay him in artwork when the cash runs out. and he always looks so angry and disappointed that the NHS are doing so fucking little for me, but never that way in me, which i have seen from so-called mental health “professionals,” including crisis team workers, on the NHS.

like, the last time i saw a psychiatrist, he had a face on him like NBC’s Hannibal fucking Lecter and he said word-for-word “I don’t think there’s anything I can do for you.” what kind of fucking health professional comes out with shit like THAT? and shortly after that appt I got increasingly unstable, went psychotic, trashed my apartment, tried to commit suicide again, then spent all my fucking money running all over the country and ended up here, in a flat in halls my uni are paying for while i bit-by-bit clean up my apartment, alone because i don’t trust anybody else to touch MY THINGS, until it’s livable again.

i think i’m gonna print a lot of these recent text posts and take them to my case review. i’ve always been too ashamed to take anything significant that i write to Brain Appointments, because, like... well. mother is to blame for that. “melodramatic/theatrical/overemotional/I think you’re just tired/making things up/imagining things” and so on. and the fact that when it was found out by my school i was self harming and they told her, shit got so much worse at home. like, that pretty effectively taught me Hide Everything Or You’ll Be Punished, Even By People Who Say They’re Just Trying To Help You.

man, seriously, fuck this shit. fuck this shit. fuck how hard i’m having to fight for this. fuck all this terror and aggression, sure I can pilot the ship on fear and fury, but i wanna pilot it just like, gently, with love and enthusiasm. i’ve been finding ways to start doing that, alone. but this whole, social stuff? i can’t do that alone. the social space inside my head is healthier, i’m not screaming and fighting with the voices, or constantly blocking them out with music and drugs and trances, but Other Bodies? i need help with Other Bodies.

ok im getting a headache so it’s time to call this post Done

#fliptext #trauma #abuse #neglect #uh #ask to tag #self harm #psychosis ment #suicide #long post #sorta

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whenyoujustwannawrite · 5 years

Text

I want a nickelodeon life. I want an early 2000's disney life, where I don't need to worry. I go through school, I go through exams, I go through weekends with my ragtag group of friends and we have oddball adventures, hilarious hijinks that never end and bonds that never break.

I don't have to worry about anything major for more than an episode and I have a slow, budding relationship with a sweet friend and we hold hands at prom when I wear the perfect dress with that glossy, pink, cherry-flavoured lip balm on and we sway to some slow song (maybe even kiss at the end), then go dance with the rest of our friends to some other catchy, pop song under shitty lighting. We may have sneaked some vodka in and we pretend to like how it sears down our throats like acid. Grinning, a little tipsy. But we're happy. We're so, so happy. The screen fades to black and we're back the next week with the upbeat title sequence and a new, small problem to deal with just so life doesn't get too boring.

I don't need to worry about capitalism, check my privileges, deal with ignorance, deal with social prejudices and spend hours learning about how to speak about them, don't have to feel the absolute worthlessness I feel when someone laughs at when I am trying to tell them about it after hours and hours of work and research and caring. I don't have to deal with our broken education system, go on pointless rants about it knowing cruelly how I'm probably not gonna be able to change, reluctantly stop spitting fury because whatever I do, I need to study for the exam tomorrow. No anxiety, no depression, no feeling too stupid, no dysfunctional families-no dysfunctional families!- and no thinking about money when you don't have to.

No fear of the world ending because of a nuclear war, global warming, global economic breakdown, no fear of never being enough for anybody, no fear of never finding something that's enough for you. Can you imagine?

I can, I watched it growing up.

The people on t.v. never go through the painful process of not feeling accepted, of feeling like a fraud, of feeling wrong in your own skin and of simply not knowing what to do with your life and they look so goddamn happy. They never have to work for happiness, they never have to figure why they're happy or what makes them happy and, perhaps most envious of all, at what cost they're getting their happiness.

They never have to face the possibility they might lose it.

Maybe that's why I loved bingeing Victorious back when I had no friends. Maybe that's why I loved Dog With A Blog when I felt like my brother didn't give a shit about me. Maybe that's why I miss the feeling of being surrounded by the happiness and lives of these characters during the hours I spent completely alone at home.

I am a white, blonde, teenage, American girl with a quirky personality who never has to grow up and has friends who always, always unflinchingly fit just right without ever having to talk about it. The sky is sunny and I'm having lemonade in the backyard with everyone I love and we're planning on performing the new song we wrote in the evening.

There's no unrelenting chant of 'this is too much, i cant deal with this, i wanna die, i wanna die, i wanna die' in the back of my head.

Everything is simple, life is good. And you're watching Disney Channel.

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violetbeachpod · 6 years

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TRANSCRIPT: Episode Five - Aftermath

AJ:

Um. Here’s what we know. Here is what we fucking know, y’all.

It’s AJ, by the way, I’m--I’m here. Right now. Here and--

Teresa’s still gone, like--not a text, not. Nothing. We’re, like, collectively doing her homework, but she has an exam coming up, so--We can’t disguise ourselves as her. So. That’s problematic. And that’s also the event of the week. The weird happening of the day. The mystery of the moment. Etcetera.

So. Here’s my intro, and I’m still trying to figure out why we need those, like--look, guys, we’re all friends, here. Or acquaintances. We’ve seen some shit together, I think, i.e. a person we know literally vanishing into an orb of light, so, uh. Yeah. I think we’re at least friend-adjacent, at this point. Still running the numbers on that one.

So, like, I don’t see the point in it. Cuz after T went missing, I doubt that Benji’s publishing these bad boys anywhere online. Cuz, uh. This ain’t Serial. I am not participating in any true crimes. Or fake crimes. Maybe imaginary crimes, or irrational crimes, or--I only have a B in Calc, I have no right to make half-assed and half-asleep number jokes, never mind that. It--it wasn’t even clever, it was just. Lazy. And bad. And I can do better. Whatever.

Do I--do I still have a B in Calc? I feel like I did okay on last week’s--lemme check, real fast, this’ll just take a sec--Angie, your password’s--ah, yeah, nevermind, I remember it. It’s AngieCowgirl72 Exclamation Point. I remember that. No need to talk.And I made you add the exclamation point. Because security, and you use the same--Yeah, I’ll shut up, whatever, I just--lemme check this grade real fast--

[beat, typing]

Ah, shit. Shit. It went down. Shit. My dad’s gonna kill me. Lemme--uh. I can email Paula later. Gotta--gotta handle the real life stuff first.

So. My point. That thing. It’s. It’s just, that-- Um. Shit. You guys already know who I am.

[beat]

But, like, in case I go missing, or whatever, because that’s a possibility now! I guess! So. Bio. Autobio? Do people--do people shorten it to autobio? Memoir? I--I never remember the difference between those two, I think this is a memoir. So. My name’s AJ Diggs, uh, Aaron Jacobi Diggs, but, like--AJ. It’s AJ. Just--just stick with the nickname. So, uh, I’m a student and a coffee-dude, I only listen to, like, witch house and lo-fi folk punk--because. Uh. No, Angie, I won’t check out your sophomore album Refuge now streaming on most sites for free, no guest stars on this show. We signed an agreement that you would not derail my show and tell.

Well, if we’re not calling it show and tell, what are we calling it, Angela?

My point is, I’m a self-acknowledged pretentious ass, but, like I’m hardcore. Regardless.

And we need hard facts that, that’s--, I’m seventeen, I’m, uh--from Moco, uh, Gaithersburg, specifically, originally, moved here when I was twelve ish, and, uh, started over, kinda.

That’s something people do when they move, right? I think so. Cuz. I did that. I was in a pretty negative zone, back there. Great city. Great people. Terrible, godawful tweens. Just mean tweens. And teens. And kids.

So, I transferred into Corielli, been there ever since, and, uh. I live on Nightingale and Seaview, and, uh, I’m an AB blood type. I don’t know my social security number, but you can just ask my manager, like, I think she memorizes everyone’s and commits fraud constantly. And if this leaks, Amanda? I don’t regret saying that. I don’t! I know you used my debit card to buy muffins when I left it in the breakroom, Amanda. I know. And they weren’t even for me, cuz they were walnut ones and I know that you know about my nut allergy. Amanda. You know about my nut allergy.

Anyway. I’m currently recording from, because they have a mic and I do not, Angie and Teresa’s dorm, within the bathroom of which Angie is currently pacing, not saying anything, which is exactly the opposite of what she usually does, so, uh, we know something bad’s happened regardless of previous context. Just to. Set the scene, kinda. Some good visuals, and what have you, we gotta keep this as cinematic as possible. Also, this room’s walls are gray and have, like, emo music posters everywhere, so--let’s erase that and pretend it’s yellow with paintings on it. Maybe some faded pink or bright red accents. And I’m in the center of the shot. And this mic is old-fashioned Yeah, you got it. Right there.

Just got a typo-filled text about how these posters are not of emo bands, and, Angie, it’s good to know that that’s your top priority right now? Just sayin’. We agreed no guest stars, too, so, uh, get out of my recording. Dude. No texting. You can keep--pacing, and, uh, writing in dry-erase on your mirror, but. Get out of my recording.

Mae Babson The New Transfer Student came into the shop with Charlotte yesterday. If you want an update on that plot point. I think they’re together? She texted me an emoji code that I haven’t cracked yet. So I think that something happened. Also, she knows my name, which--I have not introduced myself to her. She and I do not have any classes together. She shouldn’t know that. I’m a pretty--I’m a private person. I have a mysterious image to maintain. And then, at the store, she, like, whispered her order? And I already had Charlotte’s going, like, I was pulling those shots, already, and then, she whispers her order. And I can hear, just fine, it’s just--she then says these three word, she said, uh.

[SOUND CUE 1: ACCIDENT]

[SOUND CUE 2: CONSTANT]

[SOUND CUE 3: RETURN]

Weird, right? And I took--Charlotte and I did make a conspiracy board, eventually, with yarn colors that we stole from knitting club, because Natalie Simmons was gonna make us join, and she knows that I have Carpal Tunnel, so. Our only way to get free yarn was to steal, but. Regardless. I took those words, plus that weird interference that got into Benji’s recording, which, uh, sounded pretty similar, and I’m trying to parse meaning from it, even though Char says that Mae never said those things. Which, cool. Cool, cool, but--

Again, she was whispering. She ordered a caramel frap, and she got a refill on me. Because she really is nice, like--she and Char are cute together, I just--I also think that she may or may not be some kind of supernatural entity. I support her love, I maybe do not support her whole staticky-weird-words-with-no-context thing. Y’know? Like--there are better ways to be mysterious, even. And--look, playing the bad boy or girl or neither card is tough, I know this, but. Look, there are more routes than just leather jackets or being a ghoul, y’know? Like. Maybe get a motorcycle license. Oh, wait! Mae Babson already has a motorcycle license, so, like--you already have your bad girl status. C’mon! This isn’t Party City on October thirtieth, it’s a hippie school in February. C’mon.

So, uh, I can’t find meaning out of the words, other than, like, uh. We maybe weren’t supposed to see what we saw. But--if we saw it, and we weren’t supposed to, why wouldn’t anyone else? That’s--that’s the point of the board. See, uh, there aren’t many easily accessible histories of, like--weird shit in Violet Beach, specifically. And normal history books--we haven’t dived into them, which is to say that I have literally no interest in reading them, like--Benji’s probably read them. Or Teresa, who’s significantly cooler, which would be great, if she were here. Which she isn’t! Which is fine.

I’m fine. It’s super cool that one of the only reasonable people in this ragtag gang of misfits or whatever the fuck we are is suddenly gone. Super cool. Just the best, absolutely. Not to say y’all are bad, but. You’re not reasonable. Teresa’s got brains. You have the heart locked down, got the grit, and what have you, but she’s got the brains.

Also, I was gonna be able to get Benji off my case for one night because D and D night would distract him. It always does.

Also, hi Benji. I do not want to work for you. My current job pays more than minimum wage. The one you’re offering me doesn’t. And I kinda wanna car? So--uh. Yeah. Also, I don’t know anything about sci-fi. You know this. Everybody knows this.

Also, I kinda wanted to go to D and D night. See what that was about. Teresa’s good at that storytelling shit. Was good? I don’t wanna be too much of a pessimist, but, like.

C’mon, Angie, don’t look at me like that. I--I saw it happen, she just--poof. Like, she was there, and then--I showed you the video. You saw it, you have to think, however terrifying and shitty it might feel to think it, that she’s just--she’s just gone! You think I want it? You think?

[he sighs, tired. there’s a long beat, another sigh. he’s nervous, upset, but trying to remain steely.]

Shit.

She just ran out. I think she also has Improv tryouts, but she left--she left her bag.

Love it. Loving life and being alive and all that assorted fun stuff. She’s--she’s so sensitive. God. And, uh. I love that about her, she’s--she’s like an older sister to me, I’ve--she was the only person who would talk to me, my first day here, cuz I wasn’t talkin’ to anybody intentionally and she was the only person who cared enough to try. But--Whatever. Whatever. Angela Thompson is important to me, and. I don’t need to share my sob story. I’m not that guy. But she--

God, she’s not handling this well at all, and--nobody is, cuz--cuz Teresa’s cool, and she’s good, but--I think Ann thinks it’s her fault for not stopping Teresa. And also, like--there’s--

That’s not my story to tell, it’s theirs. They’d do it better anyway.Whatever. Their lives, not mine, stand in your truth, etcetera, thank you, self-help guide parents. Gotta get back on that mindfulness grind. Take those thoughts and accept them. Etcetera. Plug for How To Become Okay With Your Potential Insignificance by Dr. Phillip T. Diggs.

Also, these two disasters, here, Angie and Teresa? They threw away the chore wheel I made for them. Who does that? I spent two entire hours of hard labor on that. As a joke. I was committed to the bit, knowing their shared hatred of domesticity and construction paper. But they tossed it. How dare they. I’m their--

Friend? Brother? Child? Dad? Something corny like that.

I don’t--I’m not their dad. That’s--that doesn’t even make sense, with like--but is time travel real, maybe?--but. Yeah. Point standing. I’m not their dad. Obviously. That’s bad and not going on the conspiracy board But--still. Look.

Yeah, I’m worried. It’s just--y’all have said this, it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t. I’m--

Ah, God. We--I need to go find Angie. Give her a hug, or--or whatever. She.

Needs it. And I owe her--

God, if--

I’m--I’m gonna turn off the mic, now. Uh. Everyone else has done a ‘bye,’ I think, so.

Bye. Keep your eyes out. Text me if you wanna be added to the conspiracy board doc. It’s very good, ten out of ten, would recommend. Five stars on Yelp. Can you give documents Yelp reviews? Doubt it. Anyway.

So.

Okay. I--I think that we got this. All of us. We got this.

Yeah.

Bye.

#transcript #violet beach #season 1 #aj #transcripts

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breeeliss · 7 years

Text

[Miraculous Ladybug]: we write kindness in marble

im very behind on @thinkoutsidethelovesquare but hopefully filling out these prompts slowly throughout the month will be ok with you all? sorry about the delay, this week has been very hectic

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Prompt: Day 2 - “Study Date” Pairing: Lilanette (Lila x Marinette) Title: we write kindness in marble Summary: Paris is new, strange, looming, and empty, and Lila doesn’t know if she’ll ever find one thing to like about it. When her frustration peaks and her grades start slipping, Marinette comes to try and bring in a kind gesture to soothe the ache.

we write kindness in marble

-fallimento // échec

If she was being brutally honest with herself, Lila expected a grade much lower than a 9. She supposed it was rather silly to feel proud of herself over that, especially as Mme. Bustier tapped her nails against the insuffisant that was written in red letters across the top of her exam, but even being one point away from a passable grade was the only thing keeping Lila from crying in frustration right in front of her teacher’s desk.

“Are you fluent in French, Lila?” Mme. Bustier asked.

Lila swallowed and waited a beat, a hesitation that always came before she dipped into French. “I can speak it pretty well,” she explained quietly. “And I understand all of it. It’s the reading and writing bit that I never got to practice much.”

“Your oral exam was wonderful,” Mme. Bustier explained. “And you follow along in class very well. But this didn’t seem like you didn’t study, dear. This seemed like you didn’t really understand the book very well.”

“It just takes me a long time to get through it all,” Lila admitted. “A lot of the words I don’t recognize and I have to always look them up. Even then, sometimes I only get the gist of what’s happening.”

“Have you tried reviewing with some of your other classmates?” Mme. Bustier recommended. “A lot of students tend to form small study groups to help them before exams.”

Lila bit down on the inside of her cheek and tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I’m….not very close with anyone in class yet.”

Mme. Bustier picked up another pile of tests and flicked through the grades. “Well, if you’d like, I have a student in mind who’s doing rather well with the material who has tutored other students in the class. She’s a very sweet girl and I know she’d be able to help you catch up. I think you two would get along rather well.”

“I-It’s fine, madame,” Lila insisted. “I’ll just study harder next time. Start homework sooner.”

“Dear, I know this is frustrating. But I really do think you’d benefit from asking for someone else’s help. Just for a short while, and if it doesn’t help we can figure something out. This isn’t meant to punish you. It’s meant to help.”

Lila sighed and tried to ignore the ache in the back of her throat when she reached for her failed exam and stuffed it carelessly into her bag. “Alright. I’ll give it a try. Who’s the student?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Mme. Bustier smiled. “Our class representative if you remember. Give me just a moment and I can write down a quick study schedule for you both.”

-errore // erreur

Lila never really saw the point in making friends.

Her father moved around with such frequency that they were only ever in cities for a handful of months before his job had them packing up and sending them off somewhere else unfamiliar. It got Lila used to never unpacking all of her boxes, never decorating her rooms, never bothering to memorize the streets around her neighborhoods, and never bothering to make close friends that she was only going to leave after a few short months. She’d made that mistake too many times already, and it was more effort getting used to the sting of losing your friends than electing to keep them at a respectable distance.

Of course that all changed when her father excitedly told her about a position he found in Paris that would be much more permanent than anything he’d found in the past. If all worked out well, they wouldn’t need to move for a very long while, and that opened up a prime opportunity for Lila to finally build something permanent.

She heard that the mayor’s daughter and the son of a very famous fashion designer would be in her class, and admittedly the desire to make new friends and fit in convinced her that it would be a good idea to pretend she was equally as well connected. It was almost too easy, lofty stories slipping off her tongue easier than she ever thought they would. But lies can only stretch so far before they snap. Lila just didn’t think that it would be Ladybug of all people to ruin that for her.

It wasn’t as if the class was angry with her. It was more a reluctance to interact with her past what was necessary and polite from a fellow classmate. No one sat next to her in class, no one invited her out to lunch, no one offered to study with her, and Lila wasn’t sure whether to be angry at herself for thinking lying would help or angry at Ladybug for toppling the popularity she’d managed to build up. She had no plans for fixing what was broken yet and had only been focusing on keeping her head down and doing well in her classes until she figured something out.

Figures that it would backfire marvellously in the form of her failing literature and needing the help of one of her classmates just to pass.

She only knew who Marinette was because she was often making announcements to the class, handing out surveys, and holding meetings to hear complaints from the class that she could bring to the principal. Pretty girl, very outspoken, always had a kind word to say to and about her classmates. She supposed it could be worse.

Lila rested her head on the kitchen table while she watched her father sign off on the study schedule that Mme. Bustier had given to Lila this morning. He reached over and patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, tesorina . You’re a smart girl. You’ll be able to pull your grades up no problem.”

She shielded her face with her arms and signed petulantly, not sure if it was worth telling him that all of this grade nonsense was only one of her problems.

-promessa // promesse

Their schedule had them meeting after school three days a week until their next literature exam in a month and a half. Lila swapped out her books, trudged to the library, and found Marinette reserving an entire study table for them by the windows.

She had her earbuds in and was nodding along to her music while she sketched in her pink, monogrammed notebook, and it took Lila clearing her throat a couple of times and pulling out the chair next to her before Marinette sat up and pulled her music out. “Hey, you made it!” she exclaimed, reaching across the table and pulling their assigned novel in front of her.

Lila rested her bag on the table and pulled out her own novel and all of her notes. “Sorry I got held up,” she said. “I couldn’t find the library for a bit.”

“You’re fine,” Marinette smiled. “I was just killing time. Do you have all your things?”

“I just brought my book and my notes. Do I need anything else?”

“That’s enough. I don’t think we’ll need much anyway.” She reached down to where her bag was resting on the floor and shuffled through it until she pulled out her own notebook. “Do you want to just get started? If you need to run out and get a snack or coffee or something I can wait.”

Lila shook her head. “I’ll feel a lot better if we can just get this over with as soon as possible.”

Marinette nodded once. “Fair enough. You wanna start by going over your test first?”

Once Lila swallowed back the embarrassment of needing another classmate’s help with a subject she couldn’t pass on her own, Marinette was a rather pleasant teacher. They spent most of their time going through all of the incorrect answers on Lila’s exam and writing out a detailed correction sheet for her filled with notes on characters, major plot points, notable symbols, and recurring themes that Marinette promised her would be repeated on the next exam. Then Marinette dragged her chair closer, opened Lila’s book to the reading that was due tomorrow, and managed to help her get through half of it, circling words for her that Lila didn’t know the definitions to and teaching her how to mark up her book so that she could keep track of what was important. By the time an hour had gone by, Lila had four pages worth of notes and a pseudo vocabulary list of words that tripped Lila up.

“We’re not going to meet again until Friday, so see if you can finish the rest of the reading by yourself. If there’s a word you don’t know, write it down after you look it up. And always make a note next to the thing you underline so that you know why it’s important when you go back to study. You can bring your vocab list back Friday and I can quiz you on them before we try doing that day’s readings. Is that alright?”

Lila nodded as she finished writing down the end of her sentence. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Great,” Marinette replied. “I think we only have two really short writing assignments coming up before the test aside from all the reading we have to do, but if you need help with the assignments just bring them to me and we can work on them together. You have any questions?”

“No questions, just….processing,” Lila sighed. “We went over a lot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Marinette winced apologetically. “Don’t try and retain it all right now. Take a break when you get home and come back to it. I think our block is up anyway.”

Lila blinked and looked over her shoulder at the clock hanging over the entrance of the library. “Wow, that went by quick.”

“I guess that’s a good thing,” Marinette chuckled. “Before you go, mind if I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“I know you tend not to sit next to anybody during any of the lessons, but would you mind if I sat next to you during literature? I can help you if you get lost, and you can take copies of my notes for the first couple of weeks if it’ll help you.”

Lila raised a brow. “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind? I’m offering.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but no one’s really flocking to sit next to me or chat with me after class. It’s sort of been that way for the past two weeks. Don’t think I need to tell you why.”

“No, I noticed,” Marinette mumbled, looking down at her notebooks and suddenly looking discomforted for the first time since they sat down. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to everyone about that. It’s not fair to you.”

“It sucks, but I’d say it’s fair. Besides I don’t need you standing up for me. I’m fine.”

“You’re new,” Marinette said firmly. “No one should be avoiding you and making your time here uncomfortable. And it’s not like I’m treating this as a charity. It bothers me personally so I want to say something.”

Lila snorted. “That’s oddly noble of you.”

“Not noble. Just kind.”

“I sort of lost any right to kindness, don’t you think?”

“No I don’t,” Marinette countered. “I’m not going to sit here and coddle you and tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be cruel to you. You’re not some criminal that needs to be punished.”

Well, that was certainly something about Marinette that Lila hadn’t been expecting. Lila noticed the way Marinette’s eyes hardened with earnesty and her body leaned in close to Lila as if to convince her that she wasn’t repulsed and that she was serious. It was strange that Marinette would care this much, but maybe this was just how the girl was and Lila was meant to get used to it. “You don’t have to get so uppity about it.”

Marinette swallowed and leaned back in her chair, noticing her position. “Sorry. It’s just….it’s been bothering me.”

Lila almost wanted to thank her simply because feeling sorry for her was much preferred than feeling apathetic towards her. But the point of these study sessions wasn’t so that Marinette and Lila could have a heart to heart. “Look. Can you promise me something? Can we just not talk about this while we’re studying? I kinda don’t want to have to think about it unless I have to.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Marinette apologized. “I just figured since I’m helping you, you should know. I’m doing this because I want to, not because madame forced me or because I feel bad. But I won’t bring it up anymore, I promise.”

“Thanks,” Lila sighed in relief. “And, yeah, I guess sitting together in class will help.”

“Perfect,” Marinette grinned. “Oh, make sure you take my number too! If you need help with homework, just text.”

After they swapped numbers, Lila pretended that she was going to stay for a couple more minutes to go over her notes so as to avoid the awkward and probably silent walk the two of them would make leaving the building together. Marinette wished her good luck on the homework before jogging down the steps to the library. While Lila slowly packed up the rest of her books, she chanced a look outside the window and saw that Marinette lived above the bakery across the street from the school. She smirked, remembering that the baguettes she’d bought from there on her first day in Paris was the only good memory she had of that day amidst all the homesickness and laborious unpacking.

Lila flung her back over her shoulder and checked her pockets for her bus money as she left the library. What a funny coincidence, she thought.

-rivedere // réviser

“ Pourri….Marcio.” Rotten.

Lila flicked the index card by her feet and read the french word on the next one before pressing it to her chest. “ Étonant…..” She bit her lip and pressed a hand to her forehead. “ Sorprendente?” Surprising? She flipped the card and sighed in relief when she’d gotten it right.

She was laying in her bed in one of the bathing suits she’d bought when they moved back to Sicily a few months ago, mainly because it still smelled like sand and sea salt and she woke up missing the beach today. The space heater in her room was running full blast, and despite the fact that it dried up the air and made her room feel stuffy, but if she closed her eyes and pointed her desk lamp directly at her, it almost felt like she was sunbathing on the beach. Of course, the effect was ruined when Lila looked out the window and saw the overcast Parisian skies and the trees shaking with the chilly, autumn wind starting to roll in, but it was one of her better attempts at trying to mimic the warm, Southern weather she was used to.

“ Aveugle. Cieco.” Blind.

The homesickness hit her a little later than it usually did, but yesterday her grandmother had express shipped a small case of cannolis to their apartment in Paris along with a small box full of all her Italian dessert recipes, and Lila just started crying right in the middle of the kitchen hard enough for her father to pull her into his lap and try to calm her down. She felt silly about it afterwards, but in the moment it felt like her chest was about to burst with all the tears that felt like they weren’t pouring out quick enough. All she could think about was being able to walk just two blocks down to her grandmother’s house in Sicily, smell sardines cooking on the stove, and hear her singing old songs in beautiful Italian while she swept her terrace.

Lila had the ocean, had the sun constantly tanning her skin, had children running with water guns right outside her house, had gelato carts rolling along the beaches with bells attached to their carts. Now she came home from school feeling so tired because it felt like everything that felt inextricable from her was slowly being sapped out and physically slowing her down.

“ Veuve. Vedova .” Widow.

The worst part was that all the glossy photos that Lila had seen of Paris when she was younger that had then seemed so beautiful were now completely ruined. Everything hurt too much for her to appreciate it and it often felt like she was missing so many wonderful things that were slipping past her, just out of reach, too far away for her to grab and hold up close. Lila needed beautiful things right now. Needed to feel like even in a place so devoid of everything she loved, there were new things she could stuff into her heart to make it feel full.

And she was desperate for it. Especially now that it seemed farther away from her than it ever had before. Some days, she didn’t even blame Ladybug for anything — she mostly blamed herself for being stupid enough to think that beautiful things came to you with lies.

She just wanted to be able to stare at the Seine without wanting to scream. She wanted to be able to take the bus through Paris without wanting to scratch out the windows. She wanted to be able to comfortably say her French r’s without feeling like they were sticking to the back of her throat and making her choke.

Lila pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, counted to ten, and blinked away the pressure.

“ Prière. Preghiera.” Prayer

-liberare // libérer

“Are you okay?”

Lila lazily lifted her head from her book and turned to Marinette who was sitting next to her and reading out loud. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled. “What’s the matter?”

Marinette kept her brows furrowed at her for a few seconds before she tapped the words in the book that Lila had been trying to read for the past half hour. “You know that word,” Marinette stated. “We went over it last week and you’ve gotten it right after that. You’re circling it now.”

“I forgot it,” Lila shrugged, too lazy to copy the word over into a list of unknown words that just kept growing longer and longer, a testament to how far she still had to go to catch up to everyone else.

But the excuse didn’t seem to stick because Marinette pulled Lila’s list of words over and dragged the end of her pencil down the last few ones she’s written since they started studying that afternoon. “You know more than half of these I know you do,” she insisted. “You’re distracted, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” Lila sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “And even if something was, it’s none of your business.”

“If it’s getting in the way of you studying and getting better, then yeah, it is my business.”

Marinette admittedly didn’t deserve the glare that Lila sent her from the corner of her eyes, but to her credit Marinette didn’t flinch and waited for Lila to give her a more satisfying answer that unfortunately Lila wasn’t in the headspace to give.

They’d been studying together for a little over a week and so far it was perfectly seamless. They kept up their meetings in the library after school and Marinette was pretty good about only discussing homework when they sat together. She interrupted only when she was explaining a word to Lila or correcting her about a plot point in their book. While sitting together in literature class turned a few heads the first day, it became a new normal for Lila as well. Marinette took ridiculously detailed notes that Lila was thankful to have access to, and it was nice to have someone she could discreetly whisper to in the middle of class when she needed clarification on something their teacher said without getting lost. It was familiar without it being personal, and Lila was surprised to find that following along in their book was getting just a little bit easier.

But so far Lila was taking this tutoring as a necessary evil and not an opportunity for making friends, which is why she tended to subtly steer conversations in different directions when Marinette asked how her weekend was or asked her what she thought of their difficult math lecture earlier that morning. It was just easier to separate the two, and a part of Lila really just wanted to get her grades up before she started pulling her hair out over friends.

It seemed like her homesickness was a flu that was making her more depressed and more irritable and a part of her really wanted to just scream about it but Marinette didn’t need to know what was festering inside of her and she was going to keep it that way. So she shut her book and turned her chair towards Marinette. “No, it’s still none of your business. You’re not privy to what’s going on in my life. We study together. That’s it.”

“You don’t have to pour your heart out to me,” Marinette said. “But it’s obvious you’re upset and it’s obvious you’re not really focused on working at the moment. So if something’s the matter — if you want to talk or you want to just stop for the day — you can tell me.”

Lila pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice choking up with the weight of her annoyance. “It’s nothing.”

Marinette sighed as she reached over and shut all of Lila’s books. “You’re not fine. Come on. Tell me what’s up. Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t help, Marinette!” Lila snapped in frustration. “I’m serious. Just leave it alone. Just give me a minute I-I….I’m tired. Okay? I have a lot going on, that’s it.”

“I mean, I figured as much,” Marinette frowned. “You look like you’re about to scream.”

“I’m going to scream if you keep pushing….”

“I’m not pushing! I just want to know—”

“ Cazzo , what do you want to know!?” Lila hissed, all of her words spilling out in Italian and shocking Marinette back until she was pressed against the back of her seat. “That it feels like the longer I’m in this stupid city the more I hate it? That I can’t stand the weather or the people or where I live or this stupid school full of people who won’t even talk to me anymore because they think I’m some kind of selfish brat? That I just wanna be back where my family is and where my old friends are and where everything is familiar and not some huge, lurking thing to get used to?”

She reached forward and picked up their novel, waving it angrily in between them. “And I’m tired of reading this stupid book! I’m tired of feeling like an idiot because this isn’t my first language and it takes me longer to catch up. I don’t care about French and I don’t care about understanding everything I just want to fucking go home!”

Her voice had gotten loud enough for the librarian to come over and scold them, but Marinette had quietly promised them that they wouldn’t be any more trouble while Lila pressed her face into her hands and pushed her hair away from her face. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole, and she was barely paying attention to Marinette packing up both of their books and slinging both of their bags over her shoulders. Marinette tapped Lila on the shoulder and yanked on her hand. “Come on.”

Lila snatched her hand back. “Stop it. Please stop it.”

“No, you’re coming with me,” Marinette instructed. “Come on. Get up. We’re done for the day.”

She wanted to tell Marinette to buzz off, but it didn’t look like Marinette was a person to be crossed when she was staring at people with eyes that told everyone she wasn’t taking no for an answer. It wasn’t as if staying in the library was any more appealing, so Lila rolled her eyes and got up from her seat, following Marinette out of the library and back towards their locker rooms on the bottom floor. Marinette stopped them at her locker, looked through her books on the top shelf and pulled out an unopened water bottle that she pressed into Lila’s hands. “Here, sit down and drink.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Lila mumbled.

“Don’t care,” Marinette shrugged. “Sit down and drink at least half of it.”

Too tired to argue, Lila relented and sat down on the floor of the locker room right in front of Marinette who sat cross legged on the floor as well. Lila took her time downing the water bottle and pressing her head back against the locker she was leaning against while Marinette patiently sat with her and waited until her expression smoothed out and she had a moment to herself to breathe and clear her head. They sat like that together for about fifteen minutes before Lila handed off the empty water bottle to Marinette and pulled her hair back into a ponytail so it was out of her face and allowed her to feel fresh faced and clear headed.

“Better?”

Lila nodded. “Yeah.”

Marinette smirked. “Felt good to yell, huh?”

Lila laughed. “I guess so. Yeah.” She dropped her hands in her lap and cleared her throat. “Did you catch any of that ranting earlier, or….?”

“Sorry, don’t know a lick of Italian,” Marinette chuckled. “But judging from the fact that you’re struggling with the language, just moved here, and haven’t really made friends yet….I can guess why you look so miserable. But if I’m wrong, then forget what I said.”

“No, no,” Lila said. “That’s….pretty much right.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I know it’s not really going to help, and I can’t say I totally understand what you’re going through. But I’m sorry. And if you want to really talk about it — you know, not just scream in my face in Italian? I’m always here.”

“I don’t need friends to come and coddle me over this,” Lila replied.

“And that’s fine. I’ll just be your tutor and we don’t ever have to be more than that. But if you want a friendship and you want someone to complain to, you can always have it with me. I promise I won’t bite.”

Lila snorted. “I guess that’s comforting.”

“Get home and rest a little bit,” Marinette suggested. “Nap before you start your work up again. If you do that for me, we’re cool.”

“Are you going to check in on me or something?”

“I have your number so Facetime is a thing. I’ll totally bug you to make sure you’re in bed napping, but I was hoping we could just work on the honor system here.”

It was such a silly response that it left Lila smiling harder than she remembered doing in weeks. And that was a silly almost horrifying realization to come to, and it wasn’t until just then that she realizes how awful it was to just move through her routine of school, home, homework, and sleep without anyone else there to ease the mundanity and unfamiliarity for her. Marinette was brilliant and sweet, but she was also stubborn and pushy and not one easily crossed. Not the type of person that Lila thought she’d get close to during her first few months here at school, but she supposed it wasn’t the worst she could do.

Besides, Marinette had matched her own smile, and just being able to sit there in that locker room after school with the both of them grinning up their ears helped alleviate some of the aching in her chest that had been paining her for days.

-visitare // visiter

A few days later, a student two classrooms down was akumatized right after the lunch pause.

It pretty much destroyed the library and the entire courtyard near the entrance of the school, but Ladybug’s magic had at the very least restored everything to its original splendor once the fight was over.

Lila had heard stories of Papillon, Chat Noir, and Ladybug and had seen akumas in the news before coming to this city. At the time it had seemed like such a terrible and horrifying reality for the citizens of Paris, but strangely enough it was the first thing that Lila had become accustomed to. This was the fourth akuma attack she’d seen, not counting the attack where she’d been the victim herself. A lot of her classmates had been akumatized as well, and it was treated as an unconventional but normal reality for all of them now. Lila merely stayed holed up in one of the physics rooms and watched the news on her phone until it was over.

But when Lila had started to head to her next class, Marinette had found her in the hallway and gently took her elbow.

“School’s always cancelled after akuma attacks happen inside,” Marinette explained.

“But everything’s been fixed.”

“They still close the school earlier. I guess just to give everyone a break after all the excitement? But yeah, we’re probably not going to be able to use the library today to study.”

“We have a writing assignment due tomorrow,” Lila said worriedly. “I still need help with it and I’m afraid to turn it in without you looking at it.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” Marinette soothed. “I figured if you’re willing to hang around for a bit you could just come and study at my house if that’s alright with you? I’m just across the street. My parents should still be in the bakery working, so we’ll have plenty of peace and quiet.”

Lila blinked, not expecting the sudden friendly gesture. “Oh. Um. Yeah, so long as it’s okay.”

“It’s not a huge deal,” Marinette shrugged. “My parents won’t mind.”

Marinette’s apartment smelled like bread and the fresh linens that were still folded in a basket on the floor by the couch. It was small, but it looked lived in — bottles of spices were still on the counter and not put away, the dishes from breakfast weren’t done, and the refrigerator was covered in notes, reminders, notices from school, and a couple of très bien ’s Marinette had gotten from school. She could just barely see photos of Marinette as a toddler, family vacations, and reunions were dotted about the apartment and it made Lila smile despite the small flit of nostalgia she got when she realized her house in Sicily used to look like this too.

When they went up to Marinette’s room, Lila realized that it was a completely different monster — it was like a quick preview of Marinette that Lila hadn’t been privy to before. There were dressforms, half-made dresses draped over her chaise, and a sewing machine sitting on her desk, meaning she probably did a lot of sewing and designing. Her walls were covered in design sketches, tear outs from fashion magazines, and photos of her friends from school. Her desk was cluttered with cork boards, small drawers, mason jars filled with pencils and charcoals, and about five mugs of cooled tea and coffee that she hadn’t bothered to take downstairs.

Marinette cleared all the fabric and clothes from her chaise and dumped them all on her desk chair. “Sorry about the mess. I never got a chance to clean it this morning. You can sit on the chaise. Oh, and feel free to throw your jacket on my bed.”

Lila sat cross legged on the chaise and shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll keep it on. It’s a little chilly in here.”

“Chilly? It’s only seven degrees out.”

“Well, that’s the dead of winter where I’m from.”

“Oh sweetie,” Marinette chuckled. “This is nothing. It drops down to zero in the wintertime. Sometimes lower than that.”

“Are you serious?” Lila exclaimed.

Marinette sat down in front of her and brought over her own bag. “Where are you from again?”

“Sicily,” Lila grumbled. “And I’ve lived in Spain, Portugal, and Greece. It was never that cold there.”

“That’s because you probably lived in the Southern parts of all those countries. Is this the first time you’ve been this up North before? You know it snows here, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

Marinette frowned and leaned back behind her chaise and plugged something into the wall. “I mean, I can turn on the space heater for a bit if it’ll make you feel better. Not for too long, otherwise I’m going to start sweating to death.”

“Your room is freakin’ cold Marinette, are you insane?”

“You’re going to get throttled by the weather when it starts to really get cold out. Please tell me you have a jacket thicker than that.”

Lila pouted. “What’s wrong with the one I’m wearing?”

“It’s not thick enough. You need warmer autumn jackets and proper winter jackets. Boots, thermals, tights, hats, gloves, and scarves.”

She groaned and leaned back against Marinette’s pillows. “This country is an oppressive tundra,” she muttered in Italian.

Marinette snorted and looked around her room. “Alright, how about this. Let’s start with a hat and a scarf, huh? Do you like orange?”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ve been starting to crochet stuff for the winter. Leg warmers, scarves, hats, and other things like that. My aunt dumped some orange wool on me that I used to make a scarf and a hat, but none of my friends like orange so I’ve just held onto them.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Marinette looked back at her and rolled her eyes. “Do you want them?”

“You’re giving them to me?”

“I mean, you’re still in your jacket and I have the heat running even though it hasn’t even hit five degrees. That’s possibly the most pitiful thing I’ve ever seen, how could I not give them to you?”

“Oh shut up! At least I wouldn’t sunburn beyond recognition if I spent two minutes back where I’m from.”

Marinette winced as she looked through the drawers in her desk. “I bet you’d get some sick pleasure from that, wouldn’t you?”

“It would fill me with unimaginable joy.”

“Maybe when we’re done I’ll show you pictures of the time we went to Southern France for a vacation to all the really warm beaches. I forgot my sunscreen and came home looking like a tomato. After that I hated the summer and any warm weather.”

“That’s disgusting. People die in the cold.”

“People die in the heat!”

“It’s easier to die in the cold, I’m sure there’s research that says that.”

“Oh just hush up and take your scarf and your hat.”

Lila stuck out her tongue, but held her arms out and accepted the matching beanie and scarf that were thrown at her. They felt ridiculously warm, and wool was a beautiful burnt sienna that reminded Lila of a warm sunset. She flipped the beanie inside out and observed the stitches. “You made this yourself?”

“Mmhm. Crocheting was the first thing I learned how to do before my mom taught me how to use the sewing machine.”

“You sure I can have them?”

“I insist you have it,” Marinette replied. “I crochet mostly because it’s relaxing, and I wind up with all of these projects I never wear. You’re doing me a favor, don’t worry. Hopefully that’ll keep you warm in this freezing weather.”

“Thank you. And bite me.”

“You’re welcome. And rude. Feel like starting our homework yet?”

Lila shut her eyes and winced. “Is it obvious I’m avoiding it?”

“It only has to be a page,” Marinette soothed, patting Lila on the head that felt incredibly friendly but not altogether unpleasant. “It’s not that bad. I’ll help you.”

Two hours later they were surrounded by all of their literature books, arguing over their annotated copies of the books, and crumpling up drafts of their assignments and throwing them around the room while they tried to reach the word count. Because Lila refused to stay if Marinette turned off the space heater, Marinette wound up loudly complaining as she changed into a tanktop and an old pair of shorts and begging to leave at least one window open a crack while Lila hummed happily as she worked. She recognized that Marinette could’ve easily shut the thing off for the sake of her own comfort — this was her room after all — but Marinette had said something about not wanting Lila to freeze her precious little toes off and left it at that. It was a miniscule gesture in the grand scheme of things, but Lila appreciated it. Besides, she was sure the scarf Marinette had given her would come in handy when it started raining tomorrow.

That kind of thoughtfulness was added onto the ever increasing list of things Lila was learning about Marinette now that she was getting to spend the afternoon with her in her natural habitat. She was funny , and their strange habit of picking fun at each other was ridiculously fun to fall into and often left one of them laughing so hard they accidentally knocked books and binders to the ground. She also had this terrible habit of fidgeting while she studied and she needed to always be clicking a pen or rolling an eraser in between her hands to get her to concentrate long enough to get some actual work done. When she offered to go downstairs to make them fresh coffee, Lila found out she dumped a ridiculous amount of sugar inside and also that she painted all of her mugs herself one afternoon when she was grounded. It sharpened the edges of this blurry and tentative impression that Lila had of Marinette this entire time, and by the time they both successfully finished their assignments, Lila actually found herself getting disappointed at the thought of going home.

“You didn’t do that bad!” Marinette encouraged when she read Lila’s assignment over. “Just a few grammar things and word choice issues, but everything else was so great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m getting better yet,” she frowned. “You helped me with it a lot.”

“I’ve only been helping you for about two weeks. Besides, you’ve improved plenty. You’re understanding a lot more of the book now then you did before. That’s improvement.”

“It doesn’t feel quick enough,” Lila complained. “Our next test is coming up and I really want to do well on it.”

Marinette reached over and tapped Lila on the side of the nose until she was looking up at her. “You’re going to do well,” she said, sounding staunch and determined. “You’re really smart, and you try hard. You’ve got time to get your grades up.”

“I hope you’re right,” she frowned.

“I have faith in you,” Marinette smiled.

By the time Lila had to go back home, Marinette had somehow convinced her into taking home a free sample of some of their best pastries in the bakery downstairs along with a small tin of the coffee she’d served Lila that she’d found so delicious. She wasn’t sure if Marinette realized the significance of essentially sending Lila back home with a care package filled with homemade gifts, but Lila still appreciated how pleasant it felt to finally have someone from this new city think of her in such a way. She’d have to think of a way to pay her back for it all somehow.

Perhaps she’d be interested in taking a peek at her grandmother’s recipe box. There were some good Italian sweets that she might be interested in trying out.

-spostare // déplacer

lila: i failed

marinette: you didnt fail. pay attention

lila: im p sure i failed

marinette: there is no proof of that. i quizzed you the nite before myself. you did fine

lila: i forgot to include the weather symbolism. im screwed

marinette: you didn’t have to mention that shush and pay attention

lila: marinette i FAILED

Marinette subtly smacked Lila’s knee under the desk and gave her an exasperated look before pointing at Lila’s notebook. “Stop stressing,” she whispered, using the person sitting in front of them as a cover. “Just pay attention to the lesson and whatever happens happens.”

“I can’t,” Lila frowned. “It’s been bothering me all week.”

“There are going to be two more tests this year. Even if you did do badly you have other chances to do better and you can make it up then.”

“Oh great!” Lila said, giving a pained smile. “A bigger target for me to miss.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and pushed Lila’s notebook against her hand while she typed out another text from her lap.

marinette: so you have it in writing: i swear on my sewing machine that you did well on this exam and that you will continue to do well in the rest of the class. screenshot for your reference

lila: thats like swearing on the bible for u

marinette: exactly. so shut up

Lila let out a small whine and dropped her head on her desk, not caring much about taking notes or paying attention when they were only ten minutes away from getting their grades back from their latest exam and finding out whether Lila was doomed in this class. Mme. Bustier had set a goal of an 11 on this exam so that she’d at least have a passable grade that she wouldn’t be embarrassed to show her father. The logical part of her mind was telling her that everything was probably fine. Marinette had spent close to a week helping Lila prepare for it — testing Lila on her vocab, practicing her writing, practicing her oral, and quizzing her on every conceivable portion of their novel that they could think of. But Lila wanted to stop feeling like a stranger in this new place she was meant to call home, and part of that involved being able to do well in her classes because she actually had a good enough handle on the language to be able to hold herself up.

She wasn’t usually this anxious about grades, and the way her stomach was twisting around in her gut was making her want to crawl under her desk, but Marinette was rubbing comforting circles against her back and quietly trying to give her all the reassurances she needed.

That was new for them. Ever since that first afternoon they spent studying at Marinette’s house, something had shifted and grown between them. They stopped spending time at the library and started the routine of going to Marinette’s house after school instead. The two of them sitting a foot apart on the chaise had now turned into the two of them lazily laying out on Marinette’s carpet or on Marinette’s bed while they played music, took snack breaks down at the bakery, and spent their downtime laughing and talking. Marinette loved talking about her designing, Lila loved talking about all the places she lived before, and the both of them always had conversations that kept Lila at Marinette’s house for hours. They even extended their tutoring sessions to include doing the rest of their homework together, and Lila enjoyed the fact that she was just a little bit better at maths than Marinette was.

Texting in and outside of class became a common occurrence too, and it wasn’t a full day until Marinette sent Lila links to possible pairs of real snow boots — “no, you cannot wear suede in the snow and those boots will not keep your feet warm, we talked about this Lila” — and until Lila sent Marinette entire photo albums of Sicilian fashion as inspiration for all of the clothes she was starting to make in preparation for when the summer finally came. Lila couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever stayed up until three in the morning texting someone about nonsense and been happy to lose the sleep the next morning.

Lila wasn’t an expert on friendship, but she figured that once you laid your head in another person’s lap during a study session, laughed at their music collection, and shared private jokes over text late at night, you sort of had to assume the label. They’d never expressly spoken about it, but Lila found that the two of them didn’t need to. Sometimes you could look at a person and just know from the feel of their touches and the sincerity of their eyes that you were both on the same page, and hanging out with Marinette never needed any clarifications.

And perhaps that was another reason that Lila was gripping the edges of her desk nervously as Mme. Bustier announced how the class did on the test as a whole. She didn’t want all this studying and closeness to all be a waste because Lila hadn’t improved on her schoolwork like she wanted to. She had a feeling Marinette wouldn’t be angry or annoyed with her even if she did do poorly, but there was a still this feeling that she’d disappoint her if she didn’t perform a certain way. Because, as much as Lila wouldn’t have admitted this a few weeks ago, she was incredibly grateful. School wasn’t terrifying, waking up in the mornings wasn’t exhausting, and staring out her window at the Parisian cityscape no longer made her feel like she was trapped in a strange world she’d never grow to love. Marinette deserved to have some of that kindness handed back to her.

The moment Mme. Bustier left Lila’s exam face down on her desk, she snatched it up and pressed it to her chest, counting down the moment before she flipped it over. “I don’t want to look at it.”

Marinette quickly stared at her own grade, set her exam aside, and reached out for Lila’s hand. “Here. Squeeze as hard as you can. And count down from five.”

“Count down with me.”

Marinette laughed, but counted down with Lila until she flipped over the paper and quickly searched the top of the page for her grade. Once she found it, she gripped the sides of the paper hard and felt her smile stretch wide enough for her cheeks to hurt. Marinette squealed and covered her mouth with her hands while Lila started laughing in complete disbelief. It was a 13.

“ Grazie dio!” Lila exclaimed in relief as she leaned over the back of her chair with her arms above her head while Mme. Bustier smiled at her and offered her a quick congratulations. “Oh man, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

Marinette wrapped both of her arms around Lila and rested her cheek on her shoulder while they both flipped through her exam. “I told you you’d do well on it!” she gushed. “This is so great, I’m so happy for you!”

“I got some questions completely right,” Lila gasped. “Like some of them were completely right, I can’t even believe this.”

Marinette sat there laughing at Lila’s complete delighted confusion over her test and couldn’t help but laugh as she said, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Please,” Lila said with an eye roll. “There was no way I could’ve done this without you helping me.”

“So? You sat for that test all by yourself, and you did a hell of a lot better than you did before we started studying together. You deserve that grade.”

“I’m not going to pretend you weren’t a huge help,” Lila pointed out. “I’d have failed this without your helping me.”

“Nope, don’t you do that,” Marinette announced haughtily, pulling Lila’s chair around so that it was facing her while Lila tried her hardest not to laugh at the antics. “Listen to me, you foolish coldphobic girl.”

“That’s still not funny. Especially when you’re heatphobic.”

“That is not even true, and you’re distracting me from my point,” Marinette teased, flicking Lila on the nose. “I just mean that….I’m glad I could help you, but I still say this was mostly you. Considering everything you’ve had to get used to — the move, the new city, the new language, everything — that’s enough to make anyone stress out enough to not do well in school. You’re really smart and you work so hard to do well, so be proud of yourself and let me be proud of you, okay?”

It was said so sweetly and with a such a pure and honest smile that Lila’s chest started to grow warm and spread down her arms and all the way to her fingertips. Her smile felt too big and she knew that all the giddy energy in her body was leaking out onto the expression on her face, but she didn’t quite care. Working for weeks and getting to spend time with Marinette all led up to this and she suddenly felt like running outside in the frigid weather and letting her nose freeze off just to burn off all the excited energy. She settled with dipping her head and peeking up at Marinette from underneath her lashes. “I….thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

Marinette grinned and nodded. “Anytime. You know I’ll always be here to help you study.”

“No but not just that,” Lila insisted. “The homesickness felt so terrible when I first got here and now it doesn’t feel quite so awful when you have someone to hang out with who has your back. So just...thank you. For everything.”

Marinette gave her another one of her sunny smiles and reached down to squeeze Lila’s hands again. “No problem.”

And right there, in the middle of their literature class, in the midst of the entire class gossiping about their grades, Lila felt something else move in between them. She felt another shift.

-amore // amour

Lila fell for people very easily.

She still remembered being six years old, receiving a flower from the boy next door, and knowing in the span of five seconds that she wanted to marry him. Oh, and she’d been heartbroken when he’d moved away and left her feeling like a jilted lover when she was barely old enough to pass her father’s waist. But she still remembered it as one of her first loves and always held onto that memory as a humorous reminder of all the people who’ve touched her and given her a vital piece of themselves that she slowly absorbed into herself and cherished.

Once she and her father started moving around, her brief moments of romance were always ones she kept to herself — fleeting, passionate feelings that overcame her thoughts at night but ones that she was smart enough to know wouldn’t amount to anything. It didn’t matter to her much at the time since it often felt like having a precious secret that was powerful simply because it only belonged to her.

Her love for the beautiful girl who sat next to her in school while she lived in Portugal — the one with the dark hair, the light eyes, smelled like a different perfume every day, and had such a sweet, sweet voice — felt strong and lasting even though Lila only ever got to share a couple of kisses with her before she moved away again. The same could be said for the boy who sold jewelry at the store across from her apartment in Spain — with his wide, crooked smile, the earrings he wore everyday, and his beautiful guitar playing late in the evenings before the store closed — even though he only ever got the courage to speak with her the day before she was set to leave again.

It was all fine, because Lila knew not to make friends and knew not to get attached. Acquaintances and brief loves were all that Lila knew and she loved counting them all on her fingers before she went to bed. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked for her because there was no other way to keep her heart intact.

Marinette made falling for her ridiculously easy. She was gorgeous, and Lila had said that about her the moment she laid on her eyes on her despite her reservations about the two of them getting too close. But she was a girl that was filled to the brim with that sort of everyday beauty that you missed if you blinked too quickly and didn’t stop to stare. Pretty soon, every little thing she did enchanted Lila — the fact that she only wrote with blue pens, that she spoke with her hands and often too loudly, that she’d rather die than drink her coffee black, that she wanted to be a designer when she was older, that she was also scared of being alone and ached at the thought of Lila enduring the same.

And that was really what was so special about Marinette — that her kindness was deep and enduring, carved into marble and preserved for years so that Lila would never stand to forget it. Suddenly, it was as if everything that had injured her when she first came to school had been swept away in favor of every second Marinette spent smiling at her, staring at her, making silly pinky promises, and being close enough for Lila to feel safe and wanted. The best part was that none of that ever had to go away. Lila wasn’t going anywhere — wasn’t moving to a new country to meet new people and new places and find a way to slot herself into that strangeness all over again. Lila would keep waking up and Marinette would keep being there. They had all the time in the world with each other, and suddenly Lila felt herself wanting more.

Then, everything came crashing down and collapsing into a single point, an enduring thought, an impossible question with an unreachable answer.

Did Marinette ever find herself in a position where she stared at Lila, felt her whole body light up, and wonder if they could also be more?

-bacio // baiser

“Alright, what about meravigliosa?”

Marinette bit her lip, laying out on her floor on her back with her feet in the air. “Ummmm…. is it merveilleux maybe? Marvellous?”

“Not bad! Good job.”

“Yay!” Marinette leaned her head back and opened her mouth. “Chip me.”

Lila leaned over the edge of the chaise she was sitting on and carefully dropped a chocolate chip from the bag she was holding right into Marinette’s mouth as a reward. “We’re gonna get sick eating all of these.”

“Chocolate helps prevent heart attacks you know.”

“In moderation, you maniac. What about estate ?”

Marinette winced. “Oh, crap. Um. État? Like the condition of something?”

Lila winced and popped a chocolate chip into her mouth. “Close. Éte . Summer.”

“What?” Marinette frowned. “That makes no sense. I’m pretty sure that means a third separate thing in English too. Like a bunch of land or something.”

“Oh that’s a good one! Terra .”

“Wait, isn’t that just terre ? Land?”

Lila smiled and dropped another chocolate chip into Marinette’s mouth. “Yup. Nice job!”

“Huh,” Marinette said with her mouthful. “You weren’t kidding when you said parts of the languages were similar.”

“Spanish is more more intuitive if you know Italian though. Being in Spain was a breeze. French sort of gets away with it until you start coming up with words that have seven vowels and only one syllable.”

“At least our grammar is similar and pretty simple,” Marinette pointed out. “You ever try to make sense of Chinese grammar? It’s such a learning curve.”

Lila raised a brow. “Wow, you know Chinese?”

“Eehhh,” Marinette winced. “Know is a strong word. I’m learning. It’s slow going but I’m optimistic.”

“I know four languages, my dear. It’s possible. Just have to study up and practice.”

“Wait until you see my Chinese flashcards you’ll change your mind about it.”

Lila laughed. “Alright, how about this? When we have a break, I’ll help you study your Chinese flashcards and reward you with sweets whenever you get words right. Sound fun?”

Marinette smiled and laced her hands together under her chin. “My angel.”

“Ah, another good one. Paradiso .”

“ Paradis! ” Marinette said. “Paradise!”

“Ladies and gentleman, Marinette Dupain-Cheng knows Italian.”

“Barely,” Marinette snorted. “For every pair of words that are practically identical, there is another pair that looks nothing alike. I’m still not over this summer thing.”

“Welcome to the pain that was literally my entire semester in French literature.”

Marinette reached over and yanked on the end of Lila’s hair until she collapsed on the floor next to her in a pile of pillows and blankets. They had the day off for a long weekend and Lila decided to come over to Marinette’s house and surprise her so that she wouldn’t have to spend the entire day in her room on the Internet all day. Luckily Marinette had excitedly said that she was thinking of calling a friend for a sleepover if they were interested, so Lila was quick to pack an overnight bag, kiss her father goodbye, and bring some treats to Marinette’s house while they spent the afternoon camped out in her room. She’d been chatting with her father over the phone in Italian at one point and Marinette had excitedly proclaimed that she was pretty sure she understood at least ten percent of what Lila had said, hence their little game that had currently been going on for the past hour.

“Wanna hear something crazy I just realized?” Lila said, now that she was laid out on the floor right next to Marinette. “I think this is the first sleepover I’ve had in years.”

Marinette turned her head. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, it was when I was still in Portugal,” Lila explained. “I was like twelve I think? It was my last week in the country and I slept over at my friend Alda’s house. And that was my last sleepover?”

“What did you do?” Marinette grinned. “Anything you haven’t crossed off your bucket list yet?”

Lila chuckled, “Oh it wasn’t anything too crazy. We stayed in her living room and brought all of her bedsheets down so that we could build forts in the living room. She had a pear tree in her backyard so she just brought a basket of them inside with us and we ate them while we watched movies. But then once we ran out she went and bought hard candies from the store down the street and we ate them until we felt sick. It was hilarious because we were just laid out against our pillows and couldn’t move an inch.”

“Yup, that sounds like a sleepover alright,” Marinette laughed. “Her name was Alda? Do you guys still talk?”

“Nah,” Lila said, looking down at her nails. “I’d lost her number at some point and my letters always got returned. I still say it’s not a big deal, but I guess now that I think about it it’s a little sad. I really liked her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Lila smiled. “She sat next to me in class and always braided my hair during lunch when we ate together. She was a delight.”

Marinette paused for a long moment and Lila didn’t realize she had chosen to stay silent until she turned her head and saw Marinette giving her a knowing smile. “How much did you really like her?”

Lila rubbed her neck and started fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Actually, she was, uh….she was my first kiss. Happened at that sleepover.”

Suddenly, Marinette’s gaze grew softer and she shuffled closer to her. “Oh wow.”

“Yeah, it was really late, past when we were supposed to go to sleep. And it sort of happened really suddenly, like….like she’d been thinking really hard about it and just decided to do it out of nowhere. She finished her thought, stopped for a moment, and just leaned over to do it. And it was nice. Really nice. And when it was done we just laughed about it and kept eating candy. Like there was nothing complicated about it.”

“That sounds so lovely,” Marinette breathed out. “I don’t think any of my sleepovers ever went like that.”

“Oh really?” Lila said, pretending to sound disappointed. “I thought it was common practice for all sleepovers.”

“Sorry,” Marinette shrugged. “I didn’t really plan any kisses for today. Must have slipped my mind.”

“That’s a shame,” Lila said without thinking. “Would’ve been nice to have one.”

She felt her heart jump a little bit when she words slipped out, and she carefully looked at Marinette from the corner of her eye to make sure she hadn’t said something that would make her uncomfortable. But Marinette merely dipped her head and gave a shy smile, a small flush painting her cheeks that made Lila stare longer than she meant to. Marinette cleared her throat nervously. “I mean….it wouldn’t too much trouble to arrange, would it?”

Lila bit her lip. “No it wouldn’t, I guess.”

“I….” Marinette hesitated. “I could try a quick one? I don’t want to be bad at it.”

“You don’t have to,” Lila mumbled. “I was only half joking.”

“Can I try it for the half of you that wasn’t joking?”

Marinette was leaning on her elbow, looking down at Lila with her hair falling in her face and worrying her lip like she was about to jump into a deep pool without knowing how to swim. It was the first time Marinette looked unsure and scared the entire time Lila had known her and she quickly slotted it away as one of the other pretty things about Marinette that were quickly beginning to grow in number. She carefully lifted a hand and threaded her fingers into Marinette’s hair before gently pulling her down into a short, simple kiss that only lasted as long as it took for Marinette to sharply inhale, tangle her fingers in the pillow underneath her and blink her eyes shut.

Lila pulled away, but kept her face close enough to Marinette’s until their noses were just brushing together. She waited for Marinette to open her eyes and drop her gaze to Lila’s lips, and then suddenly Marinette was leaning into her again for another kiss, one where Marinette bravely moved her lips over Lila’s bottom lip and carefully opened Lila’s mouth into a kiss that was deeper, slower, and sweeter than anything Lila ever shared with anyone.

Suddenly, it was like month’s worth of affection and enthusiasm broke loose between them because Lila suddenly couldn’t get her arm around Marinette’s neck quick enough to pull her back down against the pillows with her, and Marinette was laughing against her lips and rubbing her thumb along Lila’s cheek and resting her other hand on her hip. Everytime Lila imagined kisses like this, she always thought they’d be hot, heavy, and romantic. But Marinette’s hair fell in between their mouths a couple of times to interrupt their kiss, they paused every minute or so to smile at each other and stare before leaning back down, and their teeth knocked together whenever they both leaned in at the same time and didn’t tilt their heads enough. It was so perfect and Lila kept ruining it by smiling into the kiss and thinking that there was no way she would’ve ever thought the two of them would end up like this months and months ago.

Marinette slowed their kiss until she was just leaving short pecks against Lila’s lips until they were holding each other with their mouths hovering close. Lila snickered. “‘I don’t want to be bad at it,’ huh?”

“Leave me alone,” Marinette giggled. “I didn’t want to make it bad.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Lila assured her, pressing two quick kisses to her lips. “You’re wonderful. I feel like I tell you that all the time.”

Marinette rested her forehead against Lila’s. “Well, now a few things make a lot of sense.”

Lila’s hands were tracing Marinette’s shoulders, her back, and the dip of her waist. “Is this okay?” Marinette asked. Always kind, always patient, always something beautiful about her that Lila couldn’t help but marvel at.

She pulled Marinette down again and tried to memorize the feeling of her heart racing and her cheeks aching. “Of course it’s okay.”

#miraculous ladybug #outsidethelovesquare #lilanette #lila rossi #marinette dupain-cheng #lilanette fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #my writing #week 1 #day 2 #study date #we write kindness in marble

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