Lovers To Enemies - Tumblr Posts

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The singing of the blades in our hands melding with the beating of our hearts to form a melody so intoxicating I feel drunk on its movements.

Shifting gazes flying hands faster that conscious thought we have fallen fully into a battle of instinct.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - splash

Stone grey steel meets ivory skin in an explosion of crimson as it glides through your cheek missing your eye by a hairs breath.

Pain races to the front of my mind as I realize the path of victory I won against you is mirrored by your own blade carving a line of retribution along the top of my collar bone.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

Eyes locked in the heat of battle burn brighter with a new and confusing fire. Memories of past moments under the rain and lost embraces in each other's arms fuel that blaze of conflicting emotions that fight for control even as we now dance too the song of danger and death.

Breaths getting heavier, limbs getting slower, pain blossoming ever greater as our argument is settled in the ways of old.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - shock

An opening in your guard arises as a bead of sweat blinds your good eye as the sting of my slash has already closed the other and I find my hand paralyzed out of a deep affection I long thought discarded.

The fight resumes and even as your vision clears I find mine blurring as the love long stoked finds itself rekindling once more seeking too pour from my eyes like the torrent of springs thaw.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - clatter

In a show of defiance to the demon that is my anger towards you I release the hold of my hilt and let steel meet stone in preparation of the following meeting of steel and bone.

What follows is the touch of a razors edge against soft flesh, but not the biting terrible kiss of Vengeance instead the tender caress of hesitation as two minds so alike after years of harmony now find themselves wrestling with the same thoughts as the knots of complication and dispute begin to unravel before us.

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out - bliss

Lips once snarled in anger now meet in wonderful ecstasy even as my blood drips down the blade onto my opposite shoulder forming two crismon rivers down my chest.

Once more steel meets stone and then steel again as your swords encounters mine on its path to the cobblestones below as our kiss grows into one so deep both of us have forgotten whose air we respire.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out - darkness

Azure sky gives way to raven hair as we descend into a world where once steel bit into flesh now teeth and nails find their purchase.

Rage and spite washed away by a tidal wave of lust and affection bridging that sea of hate so love and forgiveness may grow once more.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out

Breathe in, breathe out - light

Time becomes a blur and what once was dusk became dawn to only once again bloom into Dusk before we tear ourselves away from our wordless accord.

A debt we both swore would only end in blood and death now resolved by the blood stained the pair of swords once a symbol of hate soon to be a display of peace atop a mantle. The death sworn to be collected is unspokenly agreed to be delivered by old age in one anothers arms near a warm fire and cold drink.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The ceremony bells of the church tower ring out across the town as you glide down the aisle clad in a dress of lavender and lilac a veil of dandelion beads obscuring the beautiful face marred only by the thin white line of remembrance.

My breath caught in my throat, eyes blurry and blood on fire as emotions that as of yet have no name battle inside my heart as I am awe struck by your visage before me feeling the burgundy of my suit a now unworthy colour beside that of your dress.

Step, Ring

Breathe in, breathe out

I do, I do

I present to you, one of my favorite pieces (if not my masterpiece if you ask me)

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The singing of the blades in our hands melding with the beating of our hearts to form a melody so intoxicating I feel drunk on its movements.

Shifting gazes flying hands faster that conscious thought we have fallen fully into a battle of instinct.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - splash

Stone grey steel meets ivory skin in an explosion of crimson as it glides through your cheek missing your eye by a hairs breath.

Pain races to the front of my mind as I realize the path of victory I won against you is mirrored by your own blade carving a line of retribution along the top of my collar bone.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

Eyes locked in the heat of battle burn brighter with a new and confusing fire. Memories of past moments under the rain and lost embraces in each other's arms fuel that blaze of conflicting emotions that fight for control even as we now dance too the song of danger and death.

Breaths getting heavier, limbs getting slower, pain blossoming ever greater as our argument is settled in the ways of old.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - shock

An opening in your guard arises as a bead of sweat blinds your good eye as the sting of my slash has already closed the other and I find my hand paralyzed out of a deep affection I long thought discarded.

The fight resumes and even as your vision clears I find mine blurring as the love long stoked finds itself rekindling once more seeking too pour from my eyes like the torrent of springs thaw.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - clatter

In a show of defiance to the demon that is my anger towards you I release the hold of my hilt and let steel meet stone in preparation of the following meeting of steel and bone.

What follows is the touch of a razors edge against soft flesh, but not the biting terrible kiss of Vengeance instead the tender caress of hesitation as two minds so alike after years of harmony now find themselves wrestling with the same thoughts as the knots of complication and dispute begin to unravel before us.

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out - bliss

Lips once snarled in anger now meet in wonderful ecstasy even as my blood drips down the blade onto my opposite shoulder forming two crismon rivers down my chest.

Once more steel meets stone and then steel again as your swords encounters mine on its path to the cobblestones below as our kiss grows into one so deep both of us have forgotten whose air we respire.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out - darkness

Azure sky gives way to raven hair as we descend into a world where once steel bit into flesh now teeth and nails find their purchase.

Rage and spite washed away by a tidal wave of lust and affection bridging that sea of hate so love and forgiveness may grow once more.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out

Breathe in, breathe out - light

Time becomes a blur and what once was dusk became dawn to only once again bloom into Dusk before we tear ourselves away from our wordless accord.

A debt we both swore would only end in blood and death now resolved by the blood stained the pair of swords once a symbol of hate soon to be a display of peace atop a mantle. The death sworn to be collected is unspokenly agreed to be delivered by old age in one anothers arms near a warm fire and cold drink.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The ceremony bells of the church tower ring out across the town as you glide down the aisle clad in a dress of lavender and lilac a veil of dandelion beads obscuring the beautiful face marred only by the thin white line of remembrance.

My breath caught in my throat, eyes blurry and blood on fire as emotions that as of yet have no name battle inside my heart as I am awe struck by your visage before me feeling the burgundy of my suit a now unworthy colour beside that of your dress.

Step, Ring

Breathe in, breathe out

I do, I do

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The singing of the blades in our hands melding with the beating of our hearts to form a melody so intoxicating I feel drunk on its movements.

Shifting gazes flying hands faster that conscious thought we have fallen fully into a battle of instinct.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - splash

Stone grey steel meets ivory skin in an explosion of crimson as it glides through your cheek missing your eye by a hairs breath.

Pain races to the front of my mind as I realize the path of victory I won against you is mirrored by your own blade carving a line of retribution along the top of my collar bone.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

Eyes locked in the heat of battle burn brighter with a new and confusing fire. Memories of past moments under the rain and lost embraces in each other's arms fuel that blaze of conflicting emotions that fight for control even as we now dance too the song of danger and death.

Breaths getting heavier, limbs getting slower, pain blossoming ever greater as our argument is settled in the ways of old.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - shock

An opening in your guard arises as a bead of sweat blinds your good eye as the sting of my slash has already closed the other and I find my hand paralyzed out of a deep affection I long thought discarded.

The fight resumes and even as your vision clears I find mine blurring as the love long stoked finds itself rekindling once more seeking too pour from my eyes like the torrent of springs thaw.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - clatter

In a show of defiance to the demon that is my anger towards you I release the hold of my hilt and let steel meet stone in preparation of the following meeting of steel and bone.

What follows is the touch of a razors edge against soft flesh, but not the biting terrible kiss of Vengeance instead the tender caress of hesitation as two minds so alike after years of harmony now find themselves wrestling with the same thoughts as the knots of complication and dispute begin to unravel before us.

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out - bliss

Lips once snarled in anger now meet in wonderful ecstasy even as my blood drips down the blade onto my opposite shoulder forming two crismon rivers down my chest.

Once more steel meets stone and then steel again as your swords encounters mine on its path to the cobblestones below as our kiss grows into one so deep both of us have forgotten whose air we respire.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out - darkness

Azure sky gives way to raven hair as we descend into a world where once steel bit into flesh now teeth and nails find their purchase.

Rage and spite washed away by a tidal wave of lust and affection bridging that sea of hate so love and forgiveness may grow once more.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out

Breathe in, breathe out - light

Time becomes a blur and what once was dusk became dawn to only once again bloom into Dusk before we tear ourselves away from our wordless accord.

A debt we both swore would only end in blood and death now resolved by the blood stained the pair of swords once a symbol of hate soon to be a display of peace atop a mantle. The death sworn to be collected is unspokenly agreed to be delivered by old age in one anothers arms near a warm fire and cold drink.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The ceremony bells of the church tower ring out across the town as you glide down the aisle clad in a dress of lavender and lilac a veil of dandelion beads obscuring the beautiful face marred only by the thin white line of remembrance.

My breath caught in my throat, eyes blurry and blood on fire as emotions that as of yet have no name battle inside my heart as I am awe struck by your visage before me feeling the burgundy of my suit a now unworthy colour beside that of your dress.

Step, Ring

Breathe in, breathe out

I do, I do

enemies to lovers is great and all but have you heard about rivals to friends to almost lovers to bitter enemies to reluctant allies to lovers?

People, h e a r me out. Friends to lovers to enemies to lovers trope with this shit I just write:

"- No, ____, no and NO, the fact that we did not think alike does not mean that I was the villain. The difference between us was that I only needed to protect one person to live, and you needed to protect everyone to live. - My chest rises and falls rapidly in sign of the anger that fills me, tears that burn in my eyes threaten to spill, but I have not finished yet. - Your need to protect the world took MY world away. And am I the selfish one? Fuck you. I do not want to hear you say that I am selfish for trying to save the only thing that was important to me."

Fkbjhsfgsfksnoqosnafiqlqorizbba

Our Flag Means Death Season 2 | Official Teaser

i loved you — park seonghwa

summary. there's nothing like dancing at a ball with your greatest enemy... and the man who broke your heart. pairing. rival king!park seonghwa x fem!queen!reader. genre. hurt no comfort, lovers to enemies... to lovers? warnings. death, like a lot of it, major character death, lots of hurt, no comfort, poisoning, weapons, mild gore. wc. 2.1k

[ listening to . . . ] once upon a december by emile pandolfi.

　　　　　　　　　main masterlist

You descended the grand staircase, one of your arms linked with the captain of your army. In the warm candlelight of the ballroom, your light blue—nearly white—ball gown seemed to glow. The guests rocked and swayed on the dance floor as others watched from the sidelines, giddy with the euphoric side effects of their drinks. Citizens of both Utopia and Aurora weaved through each other in graceful twirls and dips. It’s been a long time since Aurora saw peace rather than the bloodshed of men and women alike who were willing to die for their kingdom.

Once you reached the floor, you were offered a dance by a nobleman. After nodding a farewell to General Choi San, you joined the young man as you conversed very awkwardly over a slow waltz. Once you finally got away from him, an older duke from someplace you didn’t recognise, a small estate north of Utopia, was at your side in an instant. Stifling a great sigh, you agreed to a single waltz.

As the man spun you around, you caught a glimpse of a familiar black suit. With a polite smile, you excused yourself and curtseyed to the older man. As you glided to the dais set in marble on the other side of the room, your locked eyes with San for a brief moment. Your posture relaxed as you watched your subjects sway to the melody of violins and cellos. A soft smile painted itself onto your elegant features as you felt another presence next to you. It wasn't hard to guess who it was; the distinct vanilla and citrus scent combined with the long shadow of the tall figure cast onto the floor was enough of a tell.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Seonghwa began, hoping you wouldn’t turn to look at him just yet. “About everything.”

“Of course you’re sorry,” you let out a bitter chuckle as if the losses of the people that matter most to you could be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit.

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. You stood beside him like a tree swaying lightly in the breeze of the music. You did not look at him, even as you felt his dark eyes burning into the side of your face. Your face continued to gaze ahead with a solemn expression—the grin that once graced your features was now reduced to oblivion. The young king sucked in a breath and turned back around, watching a servant weave his way through the crowd, offering drinks and biscuits. When the servant passed them, Seonghwa beckoned him over with the raise of his hand. The blond approached them, his posture slightly straighter than it was a minute before. you recognised the man, he had been supporting wounded soldiers as they marched their way out of the forest that served as a natural border between Utopia and Aurora when the war had concluded.

“May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” he asked, bowing his head subtly.

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “A drink would be nice.”

Without hesitation, the servant handed him a clear drink, contained in a long, clear glass. The king of Utopia nodded a thank you and the servant turned away. He was interrupted by the soft voice of his queen.

“Thank you, Yunho,” you said.

Yunho beamed at you before walking off to serve an older man near the dance floor. As the two monarchs stood in silence for another while longer, the male of you two glanced around nervously. He felt eyes on him. You glanced at him once before averting your eyes back to the crowd enjoying themselves on the dance floor. With a start, you turned to the man next to you after feeling him tap your shoulder. He offered you the glass he received from the servant—Yunho, as you had called him. You eyed the drink, then you eyed him. When you finally took it off his hands, he let out a small breath, the smirk that you fell in love with stretching over his lips. Raising the glass to your lips, you took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste that swirled through your mouth.

“I know it won’t fix anything, but may I ask you to join me on the dance floor?” he asked once you finished the drink. He gulped when you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. “To show everyone that we have gotten past our differences?”

For a moment, you contemplated his offer, an uneasy feeling washing over you. You would have to go through with the plan either way; a single dance won’t change your mind. He offered you a hand, his smirk turning into a genuine grin once you accepted it. The brunette led you to the middle of the room. You suppressed a flinch as one of his hands found its way to your waist, but still, you rested your hand on his shoulder as your free hands held each other. You swayed to the melody played by the violins. He spun you around occasionally. He liked the way your hand fit in his, slightly smaller and warmer, but they fit together like the gears of a clock. The song was coming to an end, the crescendos and diminuendos of the climax of the piece had long passed. The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by confused whispers as the lights suddenly went off, leaving everyone in the dark. You let go of Seonghwa, taking a step back to remove you from him completely.

A piercing scream ripped through the air.

Followed by another one coming from the opposite side of the room. Multiple other screams rang out, accompanied by the quick footsteps of anxious guests trying to get out of the room. Slowly, the lights turned back on. You stood from the ground, where you had been inspecting the lifeless body of a man that lay by your feet, blood flowing from his stomach and mouth and pouring onto the marble floor. Seonghwa looked around in horror—half of his Utopian guard was nowhere to be seen while the ones that were there had been pierced by the sabres of Aurora’s soldiers; a dozen guests lay scattered around the room, dead or breathing in dangerously shallow breaths; crimson streaks decorated the floor like an abstract painting made by a four-year-old; your blood-stained hands, trembling ever so slightly. He expected a look of shock on your face, but that’s not what he saw at all. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up with rage, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear or shock on your face as you stared him down. But he saw past it. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely and desperate. Your shoulders heaved with each breath you took.

“So, this is it?” He arched an eyebrow, watching your every move.

You didn’t respond, instead, your hand pushed a piece of fabric from your skirt to the side and pulled out a dagger, frustrated tears beginning to spill down your face. You took a slow step forward. “You killed my lover, what did you expect me to do?”

“Oh, don’t be foolish, dear,” he chuckled, “This won’t fix anything and you know that. You’ll try to attack me, you’ll fail and I’ll leave, unmarked, and be ready to attack by sunrise for going against our treaty. Wasn’t it obvious enough that Utopia has always had a better military than Aurora?”

You stopped right in front of him, close enough to feel his warm breath brushing against your face. “Yeah? And where is that big bad military right now?” you whispered, eyes flickering around his face, surveying his reaction. “I have nothing to lose, anyway. I’ve already lost it all,” You sneered through gritted teeth. “All… because… of you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, looking up with a hint of a smirk. “I’m surprised the poison hasn’t affected you yet. Perhaps I didn’t use enough.”

Your confidence visibly faltered and you stepped back. “What?”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t notice. The drink I gave you, did it look like water? Hate to break it to you, but I paid that servant boy—Yunho, was it?—to replace all the water with thallium. Of course, thallium takes a while to act on the human body, but when consumed in large amounts, it is very lethal and quite quick to act. Your guests should be dropping dead right outside those doors… right… about… now.” At his last words, screams were heard from outside the grand doors of the ballroom, he seemed satisfied with your horrified reaction to this before adding in an amused whisper, “I’m sure your dear boyfriend could tell you all about it.”

With a cry, you lifted your dagger, hyper-aware of the discomfort in your stomach after what you were just told. He dodged your attack while pulling his own dagger out of the inside of his suit and holding it out in front of him. You, on the other hand, could already feel yourself growing weaker with every breath you took, your chest burning as if it were on fire. You stood opposite each other, arms outstretched with daggers clutched tightly in them; each of you pointing them at each other’s throats. He was calm, chin held high with pride and an expressionless face. You had tears brimming your eyes, pushing their limits, face flushed and lips pulled between your teeth for a few seconds.

“I loved you, Seonghwa,” You let out a noise somewhere between laugh and sob. “But all you cared about is power. You wouldn’t know the feeling of being prepared to do anything for that special person, would never experience that– that pure euphoria when you’re in the same room as them. And I could not settle for someone unable to love me back the same way.”

He didn’t say anything so you stepped closer, lowering your dagger. His gaze followed you as you came closer to him, nudging his dagger out of your way and letting his hand fall to his side. You stopped in front of him once more, your big, wet eyes locked with his. You liked his eyes, when you were younger you could’ve sworn you saw whole galaxies in them. A clang rang through the soundless hall as Seonghwa let the dagger go. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb stroking it gently.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, “I had to prove I was a capable leader. My people saw me as a coward for years, I just wanted it to change. But all those years ago, when we hid away under that big oak tree, I was in love with you. I still am in love with you, Y/N.”

Your sobs had once scarred your lips, but that night—before the moon could even join the dark clouds soaring above—you felt the man's kisses that echoed like the final pleas of a collapsing star. For a moment you thought it was ironic, his kisses resembled the electricity of a supernova while his name meant to become a star… though, that’s not the only reason it was ironic. You hesitated for a moment before giving in, but you couldn’t call it off now. Seonghwa let out a gasp and stepped back to look at the blade that had been plunged into his chest, blood already pooling around the knife and soaking through his perfectly tailored clothes. He coughed, blood spurting through his lips before spilling out in a steady stream. You closed your eyes, silent tears dripping down to your chin as you clutched your stomach and fell to the ground. Your breaths became shallow as you lay there, utterly helpless as the effects of poison overcame you.

You felt another body fall to the ground next to you, but like almost two hours before, it didn’t take any guessing to figure out who it was. Your eyelids grew heavy as did your breaths; you couldn’t hold on any longer. Your chest gave a scream of desperation as it struggled for air. But it was too late, your body went limp and cold, and the only thing that stayed warm was the hand that was held firmly by the man you once loved. Soon enough, it too went limp.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] i do not take any responsibility for any mental damages i may have cause (/j). anyways, i'm not really sure why i wrote this but here it is. i was probably influenced by all the shakespeare i've read recently but who knows? i certainly don't :P. thank you to @nebulousbrainsoup for beta reading, love ya babes!! and a small dedication to @a1sh1teruu and @yoonrimin for helping me make up my mind on posting it. love you all!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

　　[ network ... ] @cromernet

Thank you! I was hoping I could do it justice ❤️

It was the most heartbreaking situation I could think of 😭

Some Broken Hearts Never Mend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!actress reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs, pregnancy, lovers to enemies, angst angst angst

A/N: Huge thank you to @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for helping me with this! ❤️ I don’t usually do angst but trying to play around with it and I needed the practice. This is for @tightjeansjavi's June Writing Challenge. Also tagging @jay-zzle because she is my permanent cheerleader

Masterlist||AO3

divider by: @saradika-graphics

The lights are flashing everywhere, hearing your name and Dieter’s being shouted left and right. Where to look, what to do, you love sharing this moment with him, watching his smile beam as the congratulations are being shouted out.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Dieter whispers in your ear with a smile, rubbing the bump of your belly.

Paparazzi is shouting out excitedly, seeing you two together along with your prominent bump on display. You both kept this news under wraps until you couldn’t hide it anymore. It’s too hot in the summer to try wearing the oversized hoodies you’d been wearing all spring. It was decided between both of your teams that the best thing for an announcement was to show up to Dieter’s premier with a dress that would show off your bump, letting the world know that Dieter Bravo was about to take on the most important role of his life - a family man.

“Dieter! Dieter over here!” You see Adam from Entertainment Tonight waving you both down.

You nudge Dieter, motioning towards the host, and make your way over for the first interview of the night.

“Hey guys! I’m just so excited to see you two! Wow,” Adam says your name, “You look absolutely glowing. Is there maybe a reason why?” he teases.

“Well, I don’t know,” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders, “Babe?”

“Hmm…” Dieter says, rubbing your bump, “I think because you’re having my baby?”

“I can’t believe it! First, you get this man sober, and now,” Adam says with an amusing smirk, “You’ve gotten him to have a baby with you?”

“She’s a witch!” Dieter exclaims with a massive grin, “I swear. She put me under some sort of spell!”

The interview went on for a little longer, delving into Dieter’s role and how he prepared for the movie. Interview after interview, the baby was brought up.

What are you hoping for? Boy or girl? Healthy.

Have you thought of any names? Yes, but not sure yet.

Do you know what the sex is? We want it to be a surprise.

The same questions were asked repeatedly until it was time to go inside the theater.

—

“Hey babe, I’m gonna be going out, hanging with some friends,” Dieter says, waltzing into the living room with his phone and keys. You pause the TV, scooting to the edge of the couch. “You don’t need to get up.”

“What friends?” You ask concern etched on your face. It always makes you nervous when he is going to hang out with friends solo. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Dieter, it was just that he’s had his fair share of relapses.

“Sam, Claudia, and Percy.”

You make a disgusted face as soon as Percy’s name is mentioned. Sam and Claudia, you trust. Percy, you do not.

“Babe,” Dieter starts, “I know you don’t like the guy but he just got out of rehab. No drugs will be around, everything will be just fine!”

“He just got out of rehab that was court-mandated, Dieter,” you seeth, “You really think he took that shit seriously?!”

“Baby,” Dieter sighs, placing a hand on your stomach, “You gotta watch your blood pressure. Not good for Peanut.”

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

This has become your mantra lately, the doctor was getting worried about your blood pressure and stress levels. He had said that it could cause early labor. Six months along, and you needed to start paying more attention to this stuff. The last thing you want is for Peanut to come before they’re ready.

“I just don’t trust him,” you explain, “The last time you hung out with him you relapsed and went down a rabbit hole.”

“I know,” he said, head dropping, “I’m sorry. I really am, but I promise it won’t happen again. There’s not supposed to be any hard drugs, maybe some weed but that’s it.”

“Fine,” you groan, “I mean it though Dieter, you can’t have any more slip ups. Gotta think about Peanut.”

“I’m always thinking about you and Peanut,” Dieter grins, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I’ll behave and be home before ten.”

Dieter wasn’t home before ten, or eleven, or twelve. It was nearing two in the morning when you finally heard the front door open. Sliding your feet into your slippers and grabbing his tattered green robe to wrap yourself in, you made your way to the living room.

“Fuck,” you hear Dieter say sniffling, “What the fuck did I do?”

“Babe?” You ask, coming into the living room, Dieter slumped on the couch, “Everything okay?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers, pushing his hands against his eyes, “I promised yo-,” he chokes on a sob, “I promised you I wouldn’t and I fucked up.”

“Dieter,” you sigh, approaching the couch to sit next to him, “Look at me.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap, fingers twitching against his face. He looks so helpless like this. You grab his hands, and pull them into your lap.

“Babe,” you try again, “Look at me,” reaching your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at you. Watery bloodshot eyes stare back at you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dieter whispers, closing his eyes, a lone tear running down his cheek, “I should’ve listened to you.”

He tells you what happened. You nod in understanding, this was just a slip-up, you can forgive him yet again. You know it was just a bad judgment call to go out tonight. He will get through this just like he has every other time.

—

“Looks like you’re doing well, baby is right on track and appears to be growing as they should,” the doctor says, looking at your chart, “Only about two more months to go and then we can start looking to induce you. I want to see you in two weeks.”

You give a small smile and nod, rubbing your bump, slinging your purse over your shoulder, willing the phone inside to buzz as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, making small talk with her and getting your next appointment set. You thank her as you take the appointment card, sliding it into your purse as you walk out the door.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

Dieter’s been missing, three weeks to the day now, and no one can find him. His management team and assistant have been on a hunt trying to find him but of course, Dieter has gone off the grid. Last you knew paparazzi had gotten pictures of him somewhere in Europe, but that was last week. His PR team and your own told you not to look at the pictures but you couldn’t not see them when a pregnancy craving hit and you got ice cream late one night.

Dieter Bravo, Trouble in Paradise?

Sources close to the actor state he’s not ready to be a father and ran from his relationship to [redacted], fellow actress who is pregnant with Bravo’s first child.

The small article included pictures of Dieter exiting a club with one arm around a blonde woman’s shoulders and the other arm around a brunette man’s waist. The three of them were walking down the sidewalk. The final pictures in the article showed Dieter kissing both of them.

Stars has tried to reach out to each of the couple’s publicists for comment with no response at this time.

You felt your heart breaking in the middle of the checkout line. He was the one to bring up having a baby. He was the one to convince you to get pregnant. He was the one who time and time again reassured you this is what he wanted and only wanted it with you. 

You felt so stupid, like a poor pathetic girl, when everyone had warned you about him. They’d all told you so many times. Dieter Bravo is a mess. Dieter Bravo can’t be tamed. Dieter Bravo isn’t  meant for relationships. As it turns out, they were all right, and you’d just ignored every warning given to you.. Dieter had kept using after the last slip-up. What was an accident became once a week, then three times a week, and then turned to daily use. Slowly but surely you were giving up, giving up on the one person who you trusted the most.

He made you feel loved, cherished, and special. He always made you feel like no one else could compare to you or your love for each other. Now though, he makes you feel like a fool. He makes you feel like the dirt underneath his shoes. He makes you feel like… like, like—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing in your purse. The number wasn’t one you recognize but you answered anyway in hopes it was Dieter.

“Hello?”

“Baby,” Dieter’s voice sounds through the phone, “I wanna come home.”

“Dieter?” you ask, “Where are you?”

“I’m at an airport in Paris,” he says sniffling, “I wanna come home.”

“Come home, please,” you beg, “Just come home.”

—

Dieter came home the following day, detox in full swing. He was shaky, sweaty, and puking, and you were staying by his side the entire time. Doubt begins to crawl into your brain, this being the fourth or fifth time you’ve helped him through detox. Is this going to be how your life plays out? Private doctors, in and out of your home like a revolving door. Make sure he’s comfortable, providing you with the necessary instructions to get Dieter through this so he doesn’t have to go to a facility again.

“I think he should consider going to rehab again,” Mark, his manager, says.

“Mark, I don’t know what else to do,” you sigh, shaking your head back and forth. “He doesn’t want to go. He told me every single hiding spot he has here at home and I went through all of them and flushed everything.”

“Just think about it, think about your baby and your own health,” Mark says firmly, “I’ve worked for Dieter for many years and this isn’t going to be the last time this happens.”

“I know,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill over, accepting defeat. You hadn’t meant to fall in this deep with Dieter if you’re being honest with yourself. It was supposed to just be a summer fling but as time went on he squirmed his way deeper and deeper into your heart, making room for himself to curl up inside, and making himself a nice little home there. It was becoming too much to handle, the stress weighing you down more as the days passed by.

If anything was going to prepare you for a newborn it might as well be this. Dieter shouts for you from the guest room in the middle of the night, waddling through the doorway you see him sprawled out on the bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers his chest, turning on the bedside lamp he winces.

“Baby,” Dieter groans, reaching out for you, sitting on the bed you give him your hand, “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I know, D,” you murmur, the tears already threatening your waterline as he grasps your hand like it’s his only lifeline, “I know.”

“Hey,” he says perking up some, “Once I’m through with this we should go on vacation somewhere!”

“D we can’t,” you sniffle, rubbing the hand he isn’t holding onto against your nose.

“Why not?”

“Peanut,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“We’ll just take Peanut with us,” he smiles, moving one of his hands to rest on your stomach.

“That’s not really how it works, D,” you groan, “We can’t just up and leave whenever we want to. Not with Peanut.”

“Fine,” Dieter says firmly nodding, jaw going rigid, “Guess it doesn’t matter what I want to do then.”

“No,” you whisper, “It doesn’t.”

For the first time in your entire relationship, Dieter looks angry. He lets go of your hand and rolls over, his back facing you.

“Dieter,” you say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Would you consider going back to rehab?”

Dieter doesn’t respond. When you repeat yourself he just grunts and shoves your hand off his shoulder.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

The next morning when you wake, he’s gone again. A note with his chicken scratch left on his bedside table.

You’re right. Checking into White Oak again. Things will get better. I promise ❤️

Love, D

—

It took four days. Four days for Dieter to check himself out of rehab and go missing again.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” You wail into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail on Dieter’s brand new phone, “Dieter, I need you to come home. Please. If not for me then for Peanut.”

“Fuck!” You shout, throwing your phone across the room, and beginning to pace back and forth. There is nothing you can do besides wait. Wait and hope that Dieter’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. You can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

You reach down, trying with all your might to grab your phone and then you feel it. A sharp pain in your groin and liquid rushing down your legs.

“Ahh!” You groan out, the pain sending you to your knees, reaching for your phone and dialing 911, waiting to be put through to a dispatcher, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s not time yet, it’s not time,” you clutch your stomach, telling the dispatcher you need an ambulance and your address.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

While you lay on the floor waiting for an ambulance to arrive the only thing you can think of is Dieter and how he should be here. You pick up your phone one more time and try calling him again.

“Hey, it’s Bravo, can’t come to the phone right now but you know what to do after the beep.” Beep.

“Dieter, I’m going into labor. An ambulance is on the way. I need you, please,” you continue through tears, “I’m so scared and I need you. Please come back. Please.”

—

It’s almost been a month since you’ve been home from the hospital. Dieter still hasn’t shown back up, has yet to meet his beautiful baby in person. You started seeing a therapist to help you process everything you’ve been through with Dieter. Looking over at Peanut sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside your bed, you can’t help thinking about how it’s so unfair to this little baby to have a father who would choose drugs over them, but there’s nothing you can do besides be the best parent you can for Peanut. 

It startles you to hear a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. Slowly making your way out of bed to grab the baseball bat from the closet, you glance over at Peanut one more time before leaving the bedroom to see who dared disturb your peace.

“God damn it,” you hear Dieter groan, “I could’ve sworn I had some in here.”

You try to calm your heart rate, peering around the doorway to see Dieter rummaging through a kitchen drawer. He’s finally shown up. Not for you, not for his baby, but only to try and find drugs. He’s literally only here for the damn drugs. Your therapist had warned you about this moment.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

“Where the fuck is it?!” Dieter hisses, still not noticing you in the doorway, flipping on the lights.

“Gone,” you state firmly, setting the bat against the wall, and crossing your arms, “I flushed everything.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dieter shrieks, facing you in the doorway but barely focusing on you. “You had no right to do that!”

“I did it because you asked me to when you were detoxing the last time.”

“I never said anything like that,” he seethes, stalking towards you, pointing a finger in your face, “I would never ask you to flush my shit.”

“Dieter, where have you been?” you ask, noting his blown-out pupils, and the wild look in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Needed some space,” Dieter scoffs shrugging, “It’s not that big of a fucking deal.”

“Peanut.”

“The fuck?” Dieter asks, looking at you with malice in his eyes.

“Peanut,” you grit through your teeth, pointing down the hall, “You fucking promised me, Dieter. You promised.”

“Oh get off your high horse,” Dieter yells, “Don’t hold that against me when you baby trapped my ass!”

“I- what?” you say through gritted teeth, “You wanted this just as much as I did! It takes two to make a baby!”

“Fuck that!” Dieter laughs maniacally, “I never wanted to be a fucking dad!”

“D, you don’t mean that,” you say, shaking your head, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s the coke talking. You haven’t even seen Peanut, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m Dieter-fucking-Bravo, baby!” He shouts, throwing his arms up into the air, “I’m not gonna be held down by some relationship and a baby at home!”

“Fuck you,” you point to the door, face serious. “Get out of this house.”

“My fucking pleasure!” Dieter roars, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the front door.

—

Five years later.

Dieter was flipping through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch on tv. His high was still lingering, not quite sober but not quite as high as that first hit. The ET channel starts blaring your name, with a picture of you, Peanut, and some guy.

“Looks like there’s an engagement in town,” the host says with a smile, “Looks like she’s got herself a type, but who is this mystery man? It’s rumored they met when he was doing some remodeling work on her house two years ago.”

“That girl’s been through enough!” The other host announces, “Bout time she gets her happy-ever-after!”

Wait, what? No, you’re his. His love, his fairy-tale ending, his forever. Dieter’s world is twisting sideways, Peanut is the spitting image of him. His baby, his baby he has never even met.

“No, no, no,” Dieter groans, picking up his phone to try and call you, the phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries calling your publicist next, again straight to voicemail. Next, he tries your manager, with the same results, over and over again until giving up and calling the one person he can trust.

“Mark,” Dieter cries into the receiver, “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“Dieter,” Mark grunts, “It’s three in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Is she really getting married?”

“Dieter,” Mark let out an exasperated sigh.

“I need to go back to rehab,” Dieter announces, “If I get clean and do all the steps she’ll have to take me back right?”

“Dieter,” Mark says firmly, “That’s not how it works. Let her go. She’s had to change her number fifteen different times now because you somehow keep getting it. Her entire team has your number blocked.”

“She’s the love of my life, Mark,” he whines, “I can’t just let her go. Starting tomorrow, I’m sober.”

Dieter begins cutting ties with most of his friends or really it was more cutting the people off who encouraged him to use. He went through the detox, he went through the steps as best as he could. He wants to impress you, he wants to get you back, get his kid back, fuck this guy who swooped in while he was away.

---

He’s six months sober. He hadn’t been sober for this long since before Peanut was born. Dieter found out from a friend of a friend’s friend where exactly you were living for the right price, Hollywood would never change. He makes the drive to your house, flowers in the passenger seat for you, and a teddy bear for Peanut. He’s ready to grovel at your feet if that’s what it will take. Pulling up to the curb he sees a nice suburban home. It’s nothing like what you two had shared, no ornate bushes out in the front yard, no massive gate surrounding the house keeping you caged in, kids freely playing in the neighboring yards. The front door opens and he feels like he’s been sucker punched. You’re standing there, staring daggers at him. He watches you leave the doorway, and as you walk towards his car he can’t help but think you look just as beautiful as the first day he met you.

He opens the car door, grabs the flowers and teddy bear, and gets out.

“Stop right there,” you state firmly, shoulders back and head held high, “What the fuck are you doing here Dieter?”

“I’m sober,” he says, “I thought- I thought maybe I could come and try to talk to y-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh, but not the soft laugh that fills him with so much light like Dieter remembers, this laugh doesn’t bring him comfort, it only brings him a sense of loss.

“I haven’t used in six months now, I’m trying to change, I really am,” he sighs, “I know I fucked up, I know I’ve been gone but I can’t think of you marrying someone else. I can’t”

“You’ve been gone?” You ask, shaking your head, “You were more than gone, it’s been five years. What did you think was going to happen Dieter? That I would still be in that house, taking care of our baby all on my own just waiting on you to come to your senses? Don’t act like you were just gone on a business trip, it’s been five damn years!”

“No, that’s-” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “That’s now how I meant it.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I haven’t been good in a long time. The last time things were good was when I was with you.”

“And?” you ask, gritting your teeth together, “What does that have to do with anything? You left Dieter. You left me. Alone, pregnant, I almost lost Peanut because of you.”

He hates this, he never thought he’d see a side of you like this. Angry, mean, spiteful. You were always forgiving, tender, and always cared about his feelings. What happened?

“What happened to you?” Dieter asks, shaking his head, “When we were together you were never like this. You’re being so hateful.”

“What happened to me?” You shout, “Dieter, you! You happened to me!”

“Babe,” Dieter looks past you to the man at the door, “Everythin’ a’right?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you say giving the man a warm smile, the smile that was once for Dieter, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Daddy look at this!” Dieter hears a kid shout, and the man named Joel responds to the kid’s voice with a “Comin’ kiddo!”

“Is that-” Dieter swallows, feeling his mouth go dry, “Was that Peanut?”

“Yes,” you reply coldly.

“That’s not Peanut’s dad. I’m Peanut’s dad!”

“You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you never showed up for the birth,” you say stepping closer to him, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you decided to break into our home to look for drugs when they were a month old,” pushing against his chest, flowers and teddy bear falling to the ground, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you fucked off for the past five years. Don’t you ever call yourself Peanut’s dad, got it?”

“Biologically I am Peanut’s dad,” Dieter protests.

“You may be the sperm donor but that makes you just about as much of a parent as a toilet seat does,” you spit out, turning and storming off.

Dieter watches you walk away back to your home, his heart heavy with regret. You were the last reason he had to get sober and get healthy and you didn’t want him. He ruined it. 

He turns around placing his hands on top of his car, closing his eyes as his head fills with dark and sad thoughts when he hears a small voice say, “Momma, why was the man you have a picture of in your bedside table here? And why’s he look so sad?”

Dieter’s head perks up and a hopeful grin spreads across his face.

One of the biggest criticism the "enemies to lovers" tropes gets is that women want someone to fix.

BITCH. I WANT THEM TO FIX ME. I AM THE MORALLY GREY VILLAIN. I AM THE ONE WHO WILL BURN THE FUCKING VILLAGES TO THE GROUND BUT SAVE ALL THE CHILDREN TO CONFUSE EVERYONE ON MY MORAL CODE.

I am and I have always been the tortured soul that has built an evil kingdom and crowned myself empress of the shadows and the dark. I am the one who was traumatized so badly I need to be fixed. Not the other way around.

I want the hero to fix me. I want them to see that I was once broken and frail. I want them to see that despite what I've become, there's still hope for me. I want them to see that I am not irredeemable, that I am not a lost cause.

For once, I admit that I wouldn't mind being a damsel in distress, waiting for someone to save her.

Like a Hostage | Masterlist

✰ Pairing: boyfriend Jungkook x female reader 

✰ Synopsis: One feared committing, and the other feared not being loved. And, although it was clear that they had no future together, the universe always seemed to bring them together. Predisposed to a rocky relationship, they fall victim to a life of pure bliss, blind to the pretty lies of their mad love.

✰ Genre: lovers to enemies, cheating, toxic relationship, possessiveness, blackmail, dysfunctional family, angst, slow burn, mature content

⇢ Prologue: Live For Me - 1k

⇢ Like A Hostage - 4.5k

Like a Hostage | Prologue

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

“They hate me, don’t they?” you sigh in defeat, hesitant to look back at your boyfriend whose fingers have gently intertwined with yours. Standing outside his childhood home you hoped for tonight to end differently, preferably with less undertones of passive judgement. 

“They hate everyone, so I wouldn’t give it much thought,” Jungkook assures with a sly grin, wrapping his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walk down to his car. 

“But they’re your parents, Koo. Don’t you want them to like me?” you turn to face his lowered gaze, hands on his chest as your back presses against the door frame. 

“Trust me, y/n. I’ve been fighting for their love my whole life. So, no. I don’t really care what they think.” he snickers before noticing the pout on your lips. 

“And anyways, isn’t my love enough for you?” whispers of his voice touch your skin as he leans closer, broad shoulders towering over your form. 

“You know it is. But, it would be less nerve-racking if we had their blessings as well,” your furrowed gaze looks up at Jungkook’s honey-brown eyes that softened at the sight of your flushed cheeks. 

“Just give them some time, sweetpea. Okay?” he places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking a few curls behind your ear. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Now please get in, I'm starving,” 

“What? Are you serious? We just ate,” you laugh from disbelief, eyes glued on the boy as he sprints to his seat. 

“Y/n, baby, you're too nice. My mother can't cook to save her life. Everything you saw on that table was bought and reheated an hour ago,” Jungkook huffs impatiently, turning on the engine before glancing back at your puzzled expression. 

“It wasn't that bad. I'm sure she tried her best, Koo. You gotta be more grateful,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, love. Now please buckle up,” he replied with a dimpled grin before finally driving off, his free hand intertwined with yours. 

To be honest, you never understood how someone could show disinterest in their parents. Growing up in foster care, you were deprived of every childhood memory. Reaching for your mother’s arms as you took your first steps, feeling the warmth of your father’s embrace as he comforted your tears after a boy broke your heart. None of that was ever real. Nothing more than a constant reminder of the void in your heart. The shattering pieces of your younger self who cried every night, carving the blame deeper into her tiny wrists for not being good enough. Not worth the trouble of being in your life. So you grew paranoid of being viewed as an inconvenience, craving that lack of parental love from anyone who has shown even a glimpse of affection. 

Meeting Jungkook saved you from your breaking point, the night you thought you would go to sleep forever. Sitting on the rails of the Han River Bridge, you thought about the people whose life would be impacted by the loss of yours. In the moment, it was like your mind went blank, consciousness completely obscured by the lack of significance you brought to the world. Unable to fold even one pathetic finger, you felt the tears run down your face as your body shivered in fear. Losing sight of how deep the water went, your breaths became irregular, chest heaving up from the rush of adrenaline in your system. Knowing that this would be your last jump, made it all go away. In the end, nothing ever matters because we all die anyway. Some of us just choose to push their luck and see the afterlife faster than others. 

Closing your eyes you whispered a silent goodbye to your parents, wherever and whoever they were. Thanking them for the opportunity to experience life, however shitty it turned out to be. And as you felt your fingers slowly let go of the metal pillars, you took in your last breath before finally finding peace. 

“Are you out of your mind?” a male voice pierces through your senseless state as you feel your arm being yanked back. 

“What the fuck man? Let go,” you snap, body dangling midair as his other arm latches onto you. 

“Hold on for fuck’s sake,” he growls in frustration, digging his fingers deeper into your blue-ish skin as you fight back the friction. 

“I don’t need your saving.” you cry out, unable to control the stream of mixed emotions. 

“I’m not doing this for you.” his gaze furrows, clenching his jaw as his hand cushions the back of your head before your back hits the cement pavement.  

It’s true. In the moment, he wasn’t saving you. While holding onto your dangling body, all he could see was the sadness in his sister’s hollow eyes. He could feel the fear that rushed through her veins as she jumped off of their apartment complex. Alone. Consumed by the darkness of the cold winter night. No one heard her screams, and no one rushed to ease the pain. Unable to swallow down his antidepressants, Jungkook decided to stay the night at his friend’s house in hopes of muting the sound of his parent’s endless fights. Clueless to the reality of it all, his selfish act of leaving behind the only person who shared his misery. His sweet girl, Jieun. Now, they only see each other in his nightmares. The ones in which he begs for her forgiveness, wishing he could hold her one last time. Hear the laughter coming out of her room as he walks down their shared corridor, only to find it buried with white sheets of dust. 

“I was so close …” you whispered under your breath, bloodshot eyes filled with tears. 

“What’s the point? The pain never ends,” he sighs, resting his head on one of the pillars with his arms around his knees. 

“I have no one else. Who do I live for now?” you cry out with a trembling chin.

“Live for me,” he whispers, tears running down his cheek as he pictures Jieun in the back of his mind.

Like a Hostage

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

⇢ warning: explicit language, mentions of rape, physical abuse, emotional abuse, drug use, alcohol use, and suicide. ⇢ w.c: 4.5k

Spending the rainy Friday at home, Jungkook browsed through the list of recently added movies on Netflix before clicking the one with the most viewer votes. And, as you rested your legs on his lap, the two of you shared a warm glance once his hands naturally began massaging your toes, careful with the bruise on your ankle. One that you comedically earned from your skiing accident, where you overestimated your skills or better the lack of them and dared to race your athlete-build boyfriend. Needless to say, despite giving you a headstart, you found yourself dumbfounded in his embrace after an innocent rabbit scare led to your crash into a nearby snow pile. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, palm gently hovering over the purple hues. 

“Not really. I’ve been using that cream you gave me,” you replied with a soft smile, drawing circles on his tattooed forearm. 

“Next time, let's verse in something that won’t leave you in a cast, mmhh?” Jungkook teased, placing a gentle peck on your hand before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

Diverting your attention back to the screen, your sleepy gaze suddenly widened as the camera panned closer to the female lead's naked body during a steamy shower scene. Flinching at the visuals you stare at the ceiling, awkwardly fumbling with the rings on your fingers before Jungkook notices your tension, quickly skipping over the intimate parts. 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked quietly, glancing down at your flushed state. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Baby, what's on your mind? Tell me,” he leaned in closer, tucking a few stray hairs out of your face. 

“Nothing, it's stupid,” you managed to form somewhat of a reassuring smile before glancing back at his sly grin. 

See, you’ve always wanted to save yourself for marriage, and while the decision didn’t stem from religious beliefs or values it was significantly fueled by your desire to have control over your life. At least some parts of it. If it was up to you, in a perfect world where children were born into love, you wouldn’t be consumed by the dreadful shame of knowing that the bride’s side of the family would consist of only yourself. Since, once your parents left, so did the structure in your life as you tiptoed over the cracks in the weathering foundation, but now, the cards were in your hands. And, you were dedicated to the hope of blooming at your own pace and with the right person. However, to this day, somewhere deep in your subconscious, this tiny voice of doubt kept daunting your decision. Would it be fair for Jungkook if you starved him of your touch? How long would he be willing to withhold his lust until one day you were no longer worth it? 

“Oh, come on, don’t be shy. It’s natural. But, I guess now we know why this was the top pick. Horny bastards,” Jungkook chuckled, sneaking in a quick wink before resting his head on the couch. 

“Well, you must have thought about it, right?” your eyebrows furrowed, lifting your torso from the blanket cover. 

“About what?” 

“You know,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks. 

“Have I thought about sex with you?” Jungkook’s voice deepened, hooded gaze slowly observing every inch of your exposed body. 

“Shhh, why are you so loud?” you yelped, hushing his lips with your index finger until his hold on your hand tightened, and with one swoop you were exactly where he wanted. On his lap. Lips inches apart. 

“Y/n, I think about you all the time.” he grinned, tracing the bottom of your pouty lips as your breath hitched in your throat. “Not, in a freaky, call 911, stalker type of way, but…” he leaned in closer. 

“I think about the heart-shaped vein on your eyelid …” he whispered into a soft kiss on your lid. 

“I think about the moon tattoo behind your ear …” shivers went down your spine as his teeth gently grazed your skin, hands roaming under your tank top. 

“I think about the little mole on your ring finger, and the way your baby hairs curl up after you come out of the shower,” Jungkook's eyes searched your fluttering gaze, the back of his palm gently stroking your cheek as you unconsciously melt into his touch. 

“No, you know, that’s almost exactly what a stalker would notice,” you teased, tightening your hold on his hand as he tried to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

“Oh, sweetpea, if only you could read the thoughts in my head,” he sighed, resting his forehead on yours before pulling you closer onto his lap. “But, I need you more than I want you,” his words echoed in your ears, playing over and over again like a broken record. 

There’s a difference between a need and a want. You might want it to stop raining because the humidity has been frizzing up your hair, but you need water to survive. Like it or not, without it, you’d be dead in three days. Shrivelled up like a raisin in the sun. In the same way, although the sexual attraction between you and Jungkook was obvious to the naked eye, there was a fine line between your want and need for each other. He might not be the best at showing it, but behind all that ink and muscle, was a lost boy who’s spent his life running from his past, in search of something that would make him fight for the future. So, as far as he’s concerned, as long as you were breathing, his life served a purpose. One to protect, love, and care for you and the battle scars that were left behind. To him, you were the water that the human body feared losing. 

Eyes flickering down to your lips, Jungkook smiled into a teasing kiss as your hands rested on his chest, burning tension depriving you of oxygen. He was gentle, hooded gaze searching your eyes for hints of discomfort. But your orbs were dark, infused with the craving for his touch, the need to be close, skin to skin, as one singularity. 

“Koo?” you whispered, softly pulling on his silver chains. 

“Yes, y/n,” he grinned, biting down on his bottom lip.  

“Can I?” you asked with a hesitant plead, hands gently caressing the side of his neck. 

“I’m all yours, love,” he whispered in your ear, unbuttoning his black dress shirt before tracing your fingers down his sculpted chest. 

Admiring the lust in your boyfriend’s eyes, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as your lips left a trail of needy kisses on his burning skin. Sucking on his soft spots, hushed moans escaped his parted lips as his grip on your thighs tightened. And, with a slow pace, your bodies fell in sync, grinding against the tempting friction. 

“Y/n?” Jungkook whispered, gently lifting you off his lap before laying you down on the sofa. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Can I?” his veiny hands trailed up your waistline, hooded gaze glancing up at the mess he created. But, despite giving him a nod of reassurance, he knew better than to go against your better judgment. Valuing your boundaries, he never wanted you to feel rushed, consumed by regret or questions of his intentions. So, he asked again, broad shoulders hovering over your form as his chains dangled inches away from your lips. 

“I need to hear you, baby,” 

“Yes, yes you can, Koo,” you giggled, pulling him into a long kiss, as his body layed on top of yours. 

Pinning your hands against the headrest, his warm touch embraced every crevice of your heaving chest, tossing your bra on the floor. And, as you laid under him, your eyes linked, fueling a kick of adrenaline spreading through your system. It was a bit of everything, all at once. The nerves, the pleasure and the aftermath. 

But, for now, your mind was solely consumed by the effect of his soft lips as they marked your collarbone in paints of purple possession, forcing you to dig deeper into his back. Enjoying the pain, echoes of Jungkook’s groans filled the dim room, admiring the way your back arched from the sensation as the friction between your sensitive heat and the evident bulge in his jeans became harder to ignore. 

“Baby, we have to stop,” he said with a furrowed gaze, tilting his head back as you watched the sweat roll down his heaving chest. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you quietly asked, covering yourself with his shirt. 

“If you do one more thing right, I won’t be able to pay for my actions,” Jungkook hushed your nerves with a sly wink before cuddling into your warm embrace, taking in the smell of the cherry-scented perfume that you wore on your first date. 

To him, it was so bluntly obvious that it was never about your body, your eyes or your sweet smile that made him fall in love. It was the way you made him feel at ease. The way you calmed the turbulence of chaos in his mind with a single touch, a single whisper of reassurance. When you were by his side, the world seemed a little less shitty. 

But, if it were really that simple, the story would’ve already ended. No? Yet, here we are. Anticipating the worst, not knowing the half of the abuse. Please don’t forget that love is bittersweet and when two souls are tethered by the heartstrings of their past, the fear of old pain could foreshadow the end.

“Mom?” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the dark corridor as he slowly pushed the unlocked door of his parent’s house. 

“Mom? It’s me, where are you?” he called out again, furrowed gaze scanning the surroundings for hints of life. Until whispers of his mother’s voice muffled from the haunting gloom leading up to the second floor. Attempting to turn on the lights, sparks of electricity burst through the living room chandelier, forcing Jungkook to resort to the flashlight on his phone. Careful with his steps, the creaking sound of the old wood accompanied his way up to his mother’s room where she sat on the edge of the bed, back facing the door. 

“Mom?”

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” she asked quietly without even a glance, wiping the dried tear stains off her lifeless face. 

“I … I wanted to remind you that y/n and I will be leaving town for a week. I mentioned it over the phone but thought it would be best if I came in person as well,” he explained, worried gaze lowered to the bruises on her wrists. They looked fresh, like the abuse happened recently. And judging by the state of the room, the chances of it happening were high, as the floor remained witness to the littered bottles of antidepressants and liquor. 

“Mom, is everything alright? Did you and Dad fight again?” Jungkook asked, kneeling in front of his mother’s still form before she abruptly pulled her knees to her chest, scooching further away from his touch as her widened eyes stared back at his. 

“That stupid bitch. I never liked her, always hogged you like a slut.” she cried out in frustration, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, go ahead. Leave, for all I care. Let your father beat me to death but don’t come crying back when I’m finally gone.” the rage in her voice grew stronger with each word, bitting down the tears before her bloodshot eyes lowered again. 

She knew y/n was never the problem, but it was easier to be angry at people than to tell them that you’re hurting. So, that’s exactly what she learned to do, all she grew to know. She became angry at the world, at the guilty and the innocent. Leaving Jungkook as her weakness, the one person in her life that she wasn’t able to give up even if that meant losing herself to the abuse of her husband. But, the more time Jungkook spent with y/n, the less time he had to protect his mother. So, he became a buffer, neutralizing the flames that slowly burned down his family tree. However, in doing so, he developed a fear of commitment, unable to give someone his all when the desperate cries for help beating from his mother’s chest grew to consume him. 

“It’s me or her, son,” her voice trembled, hands reaching for his as Jungkook’s head rested on the edge of the bed. 

“But why? Why do I have to choose? Why can’t you let me have one thing for myself? Wasn’t Jieun’s death enough?” he cried out, choking on the tears that rolled down his face. 

“Don’t you dare bring up your sister,” 

“Why not? If it weren’t for your guys' constant fights she wouldn’t have jumped. Jieun-ie would still be here, with me,” Jungkook’s voice broke down, furrowed gaze hidden behind his trembling hands before he was brought back to that night. The night his world turned upside down. The night his little sister plumaged to her death, leaving behind a void in his heart that no one has been able to heal. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” his mother’s voice pierced through his dwelling, as her cold gaze glanced out the window with not one hint of remorse. 

“Then explain it to me,”

“I can’t. It’ll only make you hate you more,” 

“Try me,” Jungkook scoffed, resting his head on the window frame beside her. 

“She was raped. Your father raped Jieun … and when she tried to call the police … he threatened to shoot me. That night, when you went out to your friend’s house, two officers knocked on our door with suspicion of abuse. But, your father was a powerful man and a good liar at that, so, he demanded a warrant unless they wanted to settle everything in court. And, after they left we had a big fight, he wouldn’t stop, nothing could stop the rage in his eyes. I tried pleading with him, to let Jieun leave so she wouldn’t have to hear me scream because I was ashamed. But, he wouldn’t let that happen, he wanted to punish her for going against him. So, she heard everything and died because of the guilt.” his mother’s voice broke down into a whisper as she struggled to breathe, feeling the tightness in her throat. 

“Mom!” Jungkook pulled her behind him, as the door suddenly slammed open, revealing the daunting silhouette of his father. Who was, naturally, drunken out of his mind. The smell of alcohol travelling with his steps, as he inched closer to their still bodies. 

“Finally came back home, son?” he grinned, opening up his arms as a welcome back hug. 

“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook hissed, feeling his mother’s hands tighten their hold on his jacket as her panic kicked in. 

“What did she tell you?” the man growled, dropping the fake smile as his furrowed gaze pierced through her hideout. 

“Don’t you dare to come closer.” Jungkook threatened, slowly moving back before they hit a wall. 

“Or what?” his father sneered maniacally with a raised brow and a slight head tilt, plunging onto Jungkook with his fists in the air. Squeezing her eyes shut, the woman flinched behind her son’s broad shoulders as the sound of shattering glass suddenly echoed in her ear. Watching the blood run down his veiny hands, Jungkook pushed the glass deeper into his father’s chest, darkened orbs staring into his lifeless state. And, although he knew his father’s heart stopped beating, Jungkook wanted him to last longer, to feel the pain spread through his body until it was humanly unbearable. He wanted to abuse his power the way his father abused his mother. He wanted to get justice for Jieun.

Wrapping his tie around the cut on his hand, Jungkook pressed the button to your floor before resting his head on the elevator door. He didn’t know where else to go, or frankly, what else to do. There’s only so much that one could take in one night, yet, it felt like his whole life flashed by, unleashing a tide of old pain that evolved into new trauma. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought to himself, zipping up his bomber jacket to cover up the blood stains on his shirt as the elevator door opened. Walking down the dimly lit corridor, his head felt heavy, vision slowly blurring out of focus until he heard your voice, furrowed gaze glancing up at a man in your doorway. 

“Anyways, thank you so … oh, Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you gasped, smile slowly fading after you noticed that his attention remained on your friend who awkwardly waved back at Jungkook’s burning glare. 

“Hate to interrupt,” Jungkoook hissed, tongue poking the side of his cheek as he bumped past the guy before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

“Koo?” you asked hushly, looking up at his welled-up eyes that flickered down to your lips as your hands rested on his chest.  

“Who was that, y/n?” he whispered breathlessly.

“That’s Mino, he’s my neighbour. My wifi started acting up, so I asked if he could help,” your words trailed off into silence, waiting for his reaction.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” 

“I called but you didn’t pick up, so I thought you were busy. I’m sorry …” your gaze slowly lowered, hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“No, I’m sorry. I got caught up with some stuff,” Jungkook sighed, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before pulling you into a hug, feeling the tension melt by your touch.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” 

“Just a little cut, it doesn’t matter. Now, how about I take you for a little ride, mmhm?” he winked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as your fingers intertwined. 

Securing your helmet, Jungkook kissed the mole on your ring finger before pulling your hands around his waist. Starting up the engine, he glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin as you flinched, startled by the sound of his motorcycle. 

“Do you trust me, y/n?” 

“Hypothetically,” you laughed nervously, tightening your hold around his waist as he drove out of your apartment complex. The time was reaching midnight but the bright hues of Seoul’s nightlife kept the momentum going. Feeling the wind in your hair, chills ran down your spine as his speed increased. And, with each gear shift, faces in passing cars became harder and harder to make out. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you’re insane!” you screamed, helpless cries muffled by the pounding of his heart. He was insane. A murderer. Or was it self-defence? Nonetheless, it didn’t matter, because his life, the way he knew it, was already slipping through his fingers. Consumed by the darkness of his past. And you? Well, you were the last speck of brightness that kept him sane. So, he held onto the moment, keeping you close because it felt right. In hindsight, that’s all he ever wanted. You, were all he ever wanted. 

“Let’s go?” Jungkook said softly, hand reaching for yours as you walked down the bridge near the Han River. The same bridge where you first met. On the night that you thought would be your last. To this day, you could never figure out how he managed to be in the right place at the right time, seconds before your body sunk deep into the dark water. He saved you, but now, he’s the one who’s dying. 

“Koo?” you whispered, looking up at his pale face. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Thank you,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip to fight back the tears. 

“For what?” his worried gaze searched your fluttering eyes before stopping in his tracks. 

“For saving me,” you felt your breath hitch in your throat with each word. 

“Y/n …” Jungkook said, before tiny raindrops wet your skin. And, within seconds as the sudden lightning bolt struck the sky, it unleashed the wrath of a heavy pour. But, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind it, pulling you into his chest as his hold on your shivering body tightened. 

“Koo, it’s raining. We should go,” you whispered softly, burying your face into his jacket. But, he didn’t reply. Barely moved. 

“Koo?” you asked again before looking up. His eyes were closed, brows knitted with tension.

“Please, y/n … just a little longer, let me hold you for a little longer,” he breathed out, gently caressing your hair as tears rolled down his face. And, for a moment, it felt like time stopped. For a moment, all he could feel was the beating of your heart, a glimpse of a future he felt unworthy of. Deep down, he knew that your love for each other was fragile. As if he could foreshadow the end, the way your feelings would eventually succumb to the pain and exhaustion of trying to win against every shortcoming that’s been thrown at your shared path. 

So, as he laid you down onto the soft duvet of your bed, your glossy eyes sparkled under the moonlight. Reaching for his hand, you looked up at his hollow gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to lie down?” you asked. 

“I should go,” Jungkook replied, caressing your hand with his thumb before slowly letting it go. 

“Please don’t. I’m asking you,” you plead, lifting the duvet before clearing up his side of your bed. 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” your lips trembled, cuddling into his warm embrace as your hands intertwined. 

“Always,” he whispered, biting back the tears before placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

And, although he said exactly what you wanted to hear, you layed on his chest knowing that this time, something was different. His touch was cold, lifeless even. Something in him has switched and it killed you to wonder where it all went wrong. Like pieces of shattered glass, the two of you reflected each other's weaknesses, connected by the heartstrings of predisposed despair. 

Watching you sleep, Jungkook rested his head on yours, closing his eyes for a moment until his phone buzzed. Reaching for the nightstand, he scrolled through all the missed calls from his mother. Who stayed back in the house, sitting on the floor, knees to her chest, watching the lifeless body of her husband surrounded by a pool of blood. Stuck in a state of shock, she didn’t know what to feel. It could have easily been her who was bleeding out, with her life cut short by the hands of her abuser. But, yet, again, Jungkook managed to be at the right place and at the right time. But, at what cost? Killing his father as an act of self-defence still puts him on the radar, and sooner or later the cops would want answers. The problem is that, when one lie gets out, everything else will follow. The abuse, the rape, the suicide, and the murder. 

So, Jungkook knew he had to leave. Now. But he couldn’t bear leaving you without a reason. So, he had to lie to protect your peace. Betray your trust and see the spark in your eyes slowly vanish. Make you feel worthless, like you weren’t enough. Pull on the strings of your breaking heart and step on the wounds that would hurt the most. Make you hate him enough to let go.

“Tell me,” you cried out, resting your aching head on the cold wall of his room.  

“What?” Jungkook sneered, furrowed gaze glancing at the tear stains on your face. It hurt. Hurting you, hurt him. 

“Tell me this was all a lie,” you yelled, kneeling down before him as your trembling hands reached for his. 

“You know I can’t, y/n,” he whispered, fighting back the tears. 

“Do you regret it? Please, say that you regret it,” you cried into his lap as his hands resisted the urge to comfort you, to hold you in his arms and tell you that it was going to be okay. Because in hindsight, it never was. 

“Would it matter if I did?” 

“Bullshit. You’re lying. I know you are. God, don’t you think I at least deserve to know the truth?” your pupils dilated, knitted brows raising at the sight of his empty glare. It was hollow. As if there was nothing behind those dark eyes. 

“Fucking hell, y/n. Are you even listening? I hurt you, and you still stayed. When will you get the hint?” Jungkook scoffed, pushing your hands off of him before slamming his fist on the nightstand. 

“When you grow the balls to admit that you’re scared of loving someone beyond fucking them. What you really couldn’t hold it in your pants?” you felt your throat tighten, finding it hard to breathe, even though you knew you couldn’t ask for his help. Because the person that was standing in front of you was no longer the one you used to know. There was nothing left of Koo. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n,” his voice broke down, glossy eyes looking back at your defeated self. 

“Whatever. I’m exhausted, Jungkook. Fights for us turned into fights with you. All I ever wanted was to be loved, and I truly thought that you out of all people would understand that,” you let out a deep sigh, wiping the tears off your face as quiet whimpers left your parted lips. 

“Y/n … where are you going? Please, don’t just leave,” he cried out, gulping down the pain of seeing how you looked at him. Like he was a stranger.  

“It’s okay, Koo. I finally got the hint,” she replied with a soft smile. 

“Y/n, if you walk out that door, we’ll never see each other again,” he sobbed with each step you took further away from him. 

“You know, that night, at the bridge, I was crying on your shoulder and you told me to live for you. But, I wish you would’ve just let me fall. Because, at least then, I knew for sure that the pain would only be temporary.” you glanced back for the last time, reminiscing all the memories that led up to this night, before closing the door behind you as your heart sank to your stomach.

“I still love you, I promise,” Jungkook’s whispers trailed off into a void. One that consumed his life ever since his sister died. And, one that will continue to do so, for nothing is as painful as love. In hindsight, it was all very clear, his broken soul knew who to love but not how to, always losing someone in sacrifice for another. While the cries of your bleeding heart knew how to love but never who, as you grew up alone, betrayed by the ones that were meant to be your everything.

Enemies to lovers romance in books.

Shatter me by tahereh mafi

Six of crows by leigh bardugo

Falling kingdoms by Morgan Rhodes

Carry on by rainbow Rowell

An affair of poison by Addie Thornley

The cruel prince by Holly Black

Lovers to enemies

Red Queen by Victoria averyad

The young elites by Marie lu

Shadow and bone by leigh bardugo

A court of thorns and roses by Sarah J mass

And i darken by Kiersten White

Furyborn by Claire Legrand

Wicked saints by Emily A. Duncan

(if you know any other books with this kind of romance, feel free to add them in the comments ❤️)

Lovers to enemies where they want to share a bed but the hotel has a 1 person per room policy and they are absolutely not allowed in the same room

Elementary season 1 episode 24 “Heroine” (2013) dir. John Polson

whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same (insult)

Old friend...

A look upon what we made together