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#so like. apparently i must have looked really fucking miserable if she decided she needed to call to give me a pep talk lol
widevibratobitch · 19 days
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teehee nvm my voice teacher just called to say she loved how i sung at the rehearsal today life is beautiful again (not really but it sucks a tiny bit less)
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skinnyducky · 3 years
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misery, misery // v.h.
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a/n writing this was so fun ! i was like in my beyonce “lemonade” bag with this one. also as it says this is inspired by “hope ur miserable until ur dead” by nessa so if you wanna catcha vibe.. go bump it while you read this. to the anon who requested this, i hope this is what you were asking for :)
Word Count: 1460, edited
WARNING: heartbreak, language, mentions of fire, cheating, angst, and a sadistic y/n.. that’s all i think.
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Being crazy wasn’t something you were accustomed to. You were a sweet girl; the girl who sat in the back of the class and got her work done, the girl who spent evenings practicing her violin, the girl who everyone adored for her niceness but hated for being a goody-two-shoes. That was you. At least that was you fifteen minutes ago.
You see, you were in the middle of screaming and shouting on your bathroom floor as tears poured down your face. Your friend had just informed you of your boyfriend, Vinnie’s infidelity. Not only was he sleeping with one girl, but he was messing around with five others. You wanted to believe that Vinnie wasn’t capable of hurting you, that there was no way he would cheat on you. But then you recalled back to the rumors going on around school of him being a player. You tried your damnedest to not believe what people said, but now, you know they weren’t just rumors.
The minute you found out; it was like a fuse blew inside you. Heat and anger filled your body as you leaped off your bed and began trashing your room. You smashed your vanity mirror, ripped your pillows, and shattered your lamp. To say you were just mad would be an understatement, you were livid. Not even the pits of hell could compare to the fire burning within you. You tried everything you could to calm down, but nothing helped. So instead, you ran into your bathroom and after destroying that, you lied on the rug and cried till you couldn’t cry no more.
Now here you were, rocking back and forth on the floor as you contemplated what you were going to do with Vinnie. He still didn’t know you knew about him cheating and while part of you wanted to call him and give him a piece of your mind, you decided against that. Instead, you wanted him to feel the way you felt. You wanted him to feel so much misery, so much pain to the point where he couldn’t take it anymore. And you knew just the way to do that. Through his car.
His car was like a prized possession to him. He treated it as if it was a child. Whenever you two went out, he’d flaunt it off as if it was some kind of trophy. You thought it was cute at first but now, it just annoyed you thinking about it.
Getting up, you stomped out of your bathroom. You tore off your sweater, leaving you in just your tank top and school skirt. You exchanged your flats for a pair of combat boots and reached into your drawer for your black opera-length gloves. As you slipped them on, you marched out of your room and downstairs into the garage. You searched around until your eyes landed on the gas can in the corner.
“Bullseye.” You smiled sadistically, picking it up. After grabbing a box of matches, you opened the garage door and stormed off down the street to Vinnie’s house.
It didn’t take that long for you to reach his place, you two didn’t live very far from each other. Upon reaching the Hacker residence, you noticed not only Vinnie’s car, but another one in his driveway. And this one didn’t belong to his parents.
You stepped up to his door and gently knocked on it. Within a few minutes, the door opened and a blonde girl you knew from physics stood in front of you. The smile she wore fell the second her eyes landed on you.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?”
“Is Vinnie here?” you grinned, ignoring her question. You hid the gas can behind you as you swayed from side to side. “I got something for him, and I just couldn’t wait till tomorrow to show him.”
She swallowed hard. “Uh, I don’t think-“
“Cut the bullshit.” You said, your newfound attitude catching her off-guard. “I know he’s here and if I were you, I’d tell him to come to the door before I do more with this gas than what I plan to.”
The girl ran back into the house and in a few seconds, Vinnie was standing at the door, his playmate standing behind him. “Y/n, what’s up? What’s going on?” Vinnie asked, his eyes landing on the gas in your hands.
“I just found out some interesting news today!” You exclaimed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard. Have you?”
“Heard what?” He questioned.
“Well, apparently, my boyfrie-…oh EX-boyfriend, must think I’m a fool and that I wouldn’t find out about him sticking his dick in places where he shouldn’t be sticking them.”
“Y/n-“
You growled, stomping your foot down onto the pavement. He jumped in fear. “Do NOT ‘Y/n’ me! Do you know how fucking stupid I look? I tried to fucking give you the benefit of the doubt, Vinnie! I didn’t give into the rumors; I didn’t believe you to be a fuckboy…and guess what? I was fucking wrong!”
“Y/n, listen to me. What I did, I know I was wrong.” Vinnie “apologized”. You scoffed at him as you began pacing on his porch. “Let me ask you something, all those times you said you loved me, that you cared about me…what that true? Hm? Or was that all a fucking lie?”
“I-I don’t know what you want me to say?” Vinnie sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I will admit I cared about you, Y/n. I really did, but I needed something more. You just weren’t cutting it.”
“Shut the hell up, you dirty fucking cheat!” You screamed, stepping towards him. “You didn’t give a damn about me, because if you did…you wouldn’t have gone and cheated on me!”
He held his hands up in defense and said, “It’s not my fault, Y/n. You knew better than to not believe what people were saying. You took a chance on me, even though you knew the outcome. The signs were there, you just didn’t take them.”
“Is that right?” You smirked. He nodded in response. “Well, if that’s the case then you obviously knew what the outcome of your actions would be. You knew you were going to hurt me with what you did. Just as I’m facing the repercussions for even thinking I could have a relationship with you, you’re going to face them too.”
Vinnie eyes looked to you with confusion. “What are you talking about, Y/n?”
You didn’t reply but instead waved the gas can in front of him with an evil grin on your face. Out of fear, Vinnie and blondie covered their faces, expecting you to drench them in gas. But instead, they were met with nothing of the sort. They dropped their hands wondering what the hell you were planning to do. Though, the minute they saw you strutting over to their cars, they knew what was going down.
“Y/n, are you serious!” Vinnie shrieked, running over to you. Before he could even reach you, you pointed the gas at him. “Don’t even think of coming closer, Hacker. I won’t hesitate to light you up too.”
He stepped back, gulping in fear. “We can talk this out, Y/n. We don’t have to do anything irrational.”
“You don’t get it, do you? The damage is already done, baby. You already dug your grave, and now you have to sleep in it.”
With a smile, you began dousing the cars with gas. It was thrilling for you seeing Vinnie in a vulnerable state. The way he made you feel an hour ago was how you were making him feel. Sure, it was a bit outlandish to set his—and the girl’s—car on fire. But you wanted him in pain…and you were getting your wish.
After you finished dousing the cars, you pulled out the matches.
“Y/n, think about this!” Vinnie shouted. “You do this, and you go to jail! Spare yourself the trouble!”
You pretended to think for few minutes. Then you giggled at him and shook your head. “Eh, it’s worth it.” As those words left your mouth, you sparked up a match and threw it at the cars. You stepped back and watched as the vehicles lit up in beautiful fiery flames.
“What the FUCK is wrong with that bitch!?” Blondie screamed, running over beside Vinnie. “You’re going to be hearing from my lawyers, you freak!”
You ignored her and continued to spectate them as they freaked out and hopped around like Sims at the sight of fire. Eventually, you got bored and decided to ditch the scene. You walked back to your house with your conscious clear and your heart filled with joy at the sight of Vinnie’s misery.
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taechaos · 3 years
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Silent Treatment
from Textbook Love drabble series
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pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader
genre: drabble, smut, college au
synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.
warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation
word count: 4.2k
tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie
a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗
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The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.
You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 
A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 
“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”
Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.
Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 
You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 
“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.
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Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.
“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”
Said boy only grunts in response.
“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”
The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”
“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.
He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”
A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.
“No,” he murmurs.
“Then…?”
“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”
“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 
“Like 30 seconds.”
“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”
“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
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Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 
You didn’t do anything.
It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.
“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”
“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”
“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”
“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.
“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 
He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.
A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.
“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.
“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.
“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”
“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.
There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  
He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.
“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”
“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”
“Jungkook.”
He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”
He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.
“She’s in room 124… Why?”
When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 
Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 
He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 
You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.
“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”
He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”
You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”
You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.
“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”
You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”
He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.
“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”
He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.
Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.
All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.
“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”
You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 
“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.
“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.
His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”
“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”
You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.
Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.
After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.
The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”
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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
Text
Sugary Sweet Apologies
Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)
A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 1.8k
“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.
“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.
“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.
“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.
“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.
You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”
Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.
“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”
“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.
“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.
-
David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.
He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.
“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”
Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.
“Excuse me?” David asked.
“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”
Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.
“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.
“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.
“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”
David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.
Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.
“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.
“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.
“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.
Spencer never checked on you.
-
You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.
However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.
During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.
“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.
No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.
“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.
“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.
“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.
“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.
Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.
Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.
“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.
“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.
The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.
Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.
Dear Reid,
Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.
Thanks again,
Y/L/N
Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.
You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.
He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.
Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.
“Is she okay?” he asked softly.
“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.
“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.
“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.
-
You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.
You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.
You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.
“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.
“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.
“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.
“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.
“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.
You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.
“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”
“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.
“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.
You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.
“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.
“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”
“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.
Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.
“It’s okay,” you understated.
You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.
“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.
“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.
Spencer muttered something incoherent.
“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.
“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”
“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”
“In what way?” he curiously asked.
“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.
“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.
“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.
When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.
In typical elementary school fashion…
Will you go get coffee with me?
Check:
Yes
or
No
Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.
“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.
“It’s a date,” he smiled.
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
Text
Always You | JJK (Five)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 12.1k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)
Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous --- Next
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May
Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.
1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.
By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.
The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.
Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.
Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.
Jimin 6:04pm
Please let me in?
Jimin 6:05pm
Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.
Jimin 6:05pm
Call me sometime ok? Love you
Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.
June
Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.
He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.
“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.
You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.
It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.
Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.
By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.
He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.
July
Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…
“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.
You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.
“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.
“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”
“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.
“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”
“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”
You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.
“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”
“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—���
“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.
“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”
“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.
“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.
“Trina!”
“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.
“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”
Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.
“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.
“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.
Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.
“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.
“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.
“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”
“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”
“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”
You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.
“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!
“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.
“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.
You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.
“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.
“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.
“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.
“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.
You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.
“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.
This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.
The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.
The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.
“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.
“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.
“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”
“A little?” he teases.
Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.
“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.
“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.
The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.
“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.
“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.
You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.
He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!
“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”
“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.
“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.
“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.
“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.
The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.
“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.
“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”
“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.
“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.
Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.
Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.
Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…
You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!
You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.
“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.
“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”
“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.
Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.
“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.
“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.
“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.
Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”
Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.
“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.
Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???
You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.
“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.
“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.
They know each other?
“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.
“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.
“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.
“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.
You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.
Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.
“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.
Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.
You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.
“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.
That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.
“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.
“Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.
Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.
“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”
“We—”
“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”
“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.
“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.
“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.
The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.
“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.
“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.
“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.
“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.
The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.
“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.
Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.
He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.
The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.
You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.
“Hi guys!”
Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.
“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.
“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”
“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”
HOME?
“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?
“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”
“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?
“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.
“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”
“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.
“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.
“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.
“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.
“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”
You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.
“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?
“Why the fuck would I want that?”
“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”
You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.
“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”
Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.
“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”
You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.
“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.
“Nice to meet you too…”
Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.
“I said, let me drive you home.”
“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”
“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”
“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.
Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.
“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”
“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”
“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”
You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.
“I want nothing to do with you.”
You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.
“What the hell Jeon?”
“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.
“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.
He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.
“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.
“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”
“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”
“It’s clean, I promise.”
Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”
“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.
“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.
You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.
“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.
“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”
“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”
“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”
“You mean so much to me y/n…”
“Don’t.”
Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.
“What are you doing?” you sputter out.
He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”
“Why?”
“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”
“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.
“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.
You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.
“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.
Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.
“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.
“About what?”
“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.
“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”
“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”
“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.
“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”
“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”
Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.
“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”
“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.
“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”
“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”
Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.
“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.
Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.
“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.
Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.
“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.
You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?
“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.
“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”
“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.
You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!
“Jungkook—”
“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.
“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”
“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.
“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”
You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.
“Complicated how?” you gulp.
“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.
“Are you serious, Jungkook?”
“We fuck y/n.”
“But it’s more than that right?”
“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.
You look at him bewildered.
“Do you like her? Love her?”
You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?
“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”
You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?
“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.
“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.
This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.
“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”
You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.
“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.
“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.
“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”
“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.
“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.
“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”
You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.
“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?
“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.
“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”
Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?
“Wait—”
“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.
“Okay.”
Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.
Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.
He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.
Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….
When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.
A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.
Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.
“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.
~~~~
“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”
“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.
“Then what happened?” she pries further.
“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.
“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”
Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”
“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”
“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”
“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”
“Then fucking act like it!”
“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”
Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”
Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.
“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.
“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.
“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”
“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.
You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?
“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”
~~~~
“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.
“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”
“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.
The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.
“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”
“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.
“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.
“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.
“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”
“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.
“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”
“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”
All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.
“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”
You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.
“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”
“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.
“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.
You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.
“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.
“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.
“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”
He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.
“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”
You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.
“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”
“That’s the spirit.”
You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.
“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”
“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.
“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.
“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”
You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.
“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.
The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”
“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”
He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.
“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”
You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.
“Uh…yeah.”
“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.
“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”
~~~~~
A few weeks later
The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.
“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.
Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.
Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?
You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.
You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.
“Hello?”
“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.
“You’re—you’re here?”
“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.
A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.
“Ummm…yes?”
You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.
“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.
“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”
Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!
“Or not?” you say awkwardly.
You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.
“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.
“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.
“Babe—”
“Jimin!”
The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.
“Oh.” You both say at the same time.
You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.
“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.
“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.
“Huh? Uh, yeah.”
You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.
“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.
“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.
“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.
Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.
“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.
Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.
“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”
“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.
“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.
“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”
“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.
Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’
“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.
“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”
“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.
“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.
“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.
“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.
“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.
The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.
“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”
“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”
“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”
Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.
“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”
“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”
Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.
“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.
“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.
“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.
“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.
“Well…”
“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”
“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.
“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.
“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.
“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!
“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”
Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.
“So—”
“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.
“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”
Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.
“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.
“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.
Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.
“I’m serious…” he says.
Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.
A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.
“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.
“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”
Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.
You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.
“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”
“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.
“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.
“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.
“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”
“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.
“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.
“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”
“Precisely.”
You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.
“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”
“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.
Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.
“Here, stand up.”
Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.
Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.
You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.
“Show me already.” You whisper.
“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.
Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.
“Just follow me.”
“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.
He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.
You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.
Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.
Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.
Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.
Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.
“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.
“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.
You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.
You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.
But so wrong.
“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.
Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.
“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”
“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”
“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”
Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?
Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.
“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.
“But when?” he asks softly.
Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?
“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.
“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”
You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.
“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”
Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.
“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.
“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”
Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.
“You still love me?”
“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”
Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”
The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…
“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.
“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”
“You are on—”
“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”
You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe a group hang out first…”
“I’d like that.”
Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”
Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”
You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.
“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.
“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”
“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.
“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?
Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.
“C’mere.”
You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.
His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.
“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.
“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.
“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”
“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.
“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.
“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”
“Huh?”
Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”
“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”
“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.
“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”
“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.
Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?
You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”
“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.
“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.
Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,
“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”
620 notes · View notes
missblissy · 3 years
Note
Human Alastor x reader playing Bowling? (Idk i just like that type of date hhaha) Maybe just them or maybe with friends
((>W>.............................. js I hate bowling. But I love you nonny, so for you..... I made this. ENJOY!! Sorry for the wait *cries*))
How goes bowling these days? Is that even still a thing? And why would anyone want to go bowling other than to drink? But no one drinks have the time... people just go for the pin and balls. Maybe it had to do with long and round phallic objects and balls rolling around. Regardless, your friends had dragged you to go bowling for whatever reason. And you decided to drag Alastor along because if you had to suffer, so did your boyfriend. It was also a bonus that he got along with your friends as well... some of them at least.
It was Charlie's idea mostly. She was someone who always wanted to go out and try new things. It was something she lived by apparently because this week's new activity was bowling at one of those dark neon allies with an arcade built-in. Charlie managed to talk her girlfriend, Vaggie, into coming too. Angel came because he also assumed there would be drinks but found out there wasn't a damn bar inside. You honestly had no idea how or why Husk was even there because he was completely and entirely miserable. If you had to guess it had something to do with you forcing Alastor to come.
Anyways, you and your little group of friends had found themselves staring down an alley with those silly little shoes on. Angel wouldn't wear his though, he wouldn't let their piss shade of yellow clash with his outfit.
You were sitting in plastic chairs next to Angel as you watched Charlie and Alastor go up next. You had two lanes so they went together. Angel sat next to you, he grabbed an arm behind you on the back of your chair and leaned in, "Five bucks says Allie gets the gutter," He whispered loud enough for Alastor to hear. You giggled as you saw your boyfriend's brow twitch and ignore the comment.
There was a second there that you were tempted to say something back to Angel but you were interrupted by the loud clash and computer saying "Strike!" You looked up and saw that Charlie was still holding her bowling ball. But walking away with a smirk on his face, Alastor's smug pride gleamed off him. The shock on everyone's face only made him boast to himself even more. When did Alastor find the time to get good at bowling.
As he sat down next to you, he threw Angel's arm away from you and replaced it with his own, though he was sure to wrap his fingers around your shoulder and bring you closer to him. He never liked Angel, and he was always so overly protective when it came to you anyways, so it wasn't welcomed that the boy was so close to you. Even if he was a guy. Competition is competition, it doesn't matter who they are, Alastor didn't like sharing you. Period.
"How... Did you do that?" You asked him.
Alastor shrugged and watched as Charlie threw her bowling ball right into the gutter, "I'm perfect at everything I do, dear." That was supposed to be satire.
Angel rolled his eyes and with a huff, he crossed his arms, "You can't fuck." He deadpanned.
Instincts kicked in and you ducked seconds before Alastor nearly climbed over you and punched Angel in the face. He missed and got him in the shoulder instead.
"Leave Alastor and his fuckless life alone," Husk said as he got up from his seat, "Some people are just better than the rest of us sexual deviants," He took his turn bowling soon after saying that. Vaggie went next as well. She choose to keep her mouth shut on all this.
But even Charlie had something to say, "Come on guys," She awkwardly waved her hands, trying to calm everyone down, "If you're going to fight take it outside this time. I don't want to get kicked out of another place of business..."
"He won't fight me, he'd know I'd deck him in the head and give 'em a one-two combo real quick like last time." Angel reminded everyone, and you all collectively remembered Angel clocked Alastor in the face at a bar after a heated argument. Alastor went out like a light and broke his nose on the way down. You looked at him and saw the little kink in his nose from that night.
You sighed and reached down into your pocket and pulled out your wallet. You grabbed a random twenty and handed it to Angel, "I'll give you this and two cigs if you go outside for ten minutes."
Angel gave you a snotty look, somewhat offended that you'd even offer such a thing. But he knitted his brows, snatched your twenty-dollar bill, and stole two cigarettes from the pack you left laying next to you on your seat, "I'm gonna find a bar on this fucking street- I'll be back later, losers."
You could still feel the rage simmer off Alastor even after Angel left. Though you didn't have time to say anything to him. It was your turn to go up. And now that Angel was gone, you didn't want to go up there and make a fool of yourself alone... Half your plan was to have Angel bowl next to you so that no one would notice how bad you were.
"Um-" You said as everyone waited for you to go, "I'd...uh... Um. I don't know hooow-" You were cut off as Alastor quickly got up and pulled you up with him.
He dragged you to the lane and got a bowling ball for you, "Hold this," He said. You noticed his anger from before had all but melted away. Alastor gave you a charming smile and stood beside you, "Copy me. Like when we dance."
You blinked at him a few times then did was he said. He held his hand up, pretending he had a ball. You copied him and did the same. He brought his hands to his chest, stepped forward, swung his arm back then forward again. You smiled at him and did the same, but you actually threw a ball. It rumbled down the lane and crashed into a couple pins. At least you didn't get the gutter.
"See? That easy," Alastor smiled at you. He place a hand on your arm and pressed a kiss on your cheek. He grabbed your hand in his and asked, "Do you want to see if they have any vending machines in the arcade? We can get some snacks?" Which was code for do you want to sneak away for a second?
"Sure," You quickly agreed while locking your fingers with his. The two of you scurried off with him. The second you were out of eyesight and safe behind a wall, Alastor gave you a more proper kiss.
He pulled away and asked, "Why did we come again?"
You shrugged, "Charlie asked." You simply said.
Alastor let out a huff then started walking with you towards the vending machines, "You can't really say no to someone like her..."
As you pulled out a few loose coins from your pocket and slipped them into the machine you laughed, "No, you can't." You both dearly loved your friendship with Charlie... But she could be a bit bossy sometimes.
The two of you collected an arm full of snacks and started walking back together, "Well, I say when we get home, we have a proper date."
You laughed and even lost a few snacks. You picked them up quickly and said, "You mean you cook us dinner and we watch a movie? That's not a proper date either, ya know."
Alastor smirked at you then nudged his arm into yours with a grin, "It is too because it'll be just us. Alone."
You rolled your eyes but still chuckled to yourself, "Alright, alright," You said, "What do you want to watch?"
He shrugged, "Don't care. I just want to make fried rice tonight."
You let out a huff of a laugh and passed out a snack to each of your friends while Alastor gave them a drink of some kind, "Fine. But I'm picking a TV show then because I just started watching something on Netflix."
"Aw, are you guys leaving?" Charlie asked with way too much sadness on her face.
"No, no-" You waved a hand slightly, "Alastor just doesn't think this is a proper date, so he has to make one up at home."
"What do you mean this isn't a proper date?" Vaggie threw a hand in the air, "All of us brought our partners! I mean- Angel left... So Husk is more like a third wheel at this point. This definitely counts as a group date or whatever."
"Call me old-fashioned, but you don't bring your friends on a date and there is no such thing as a group date," Alastor said as he cracked open a can of cola.
"What about a double date?" Husk asked from his seat while he tore open a bag of chips.
"This isn't a double date and even then those aren't real dates either. You're supposed to be somewhere nice, havea nice meal, share a few drinks. Share some stories and laughs with the one person you're interested in courting, then call it a night, done!" Alastor smiled to himself while everyone else collectively sighed. He was old-fashioned. (But you liked that about him.)
"This isn't 1955, Al. You can go on a date anywhere. Like here. What about going to the zoo? Could that be a date?" Vaggie asked.
Alastor thought about it, tapped a finger to his chin then gleefully said, "Nope! That's an outing!" Several people groaned but no one went on to feed into his banter.
You did hear Husk grumble under his breath "You need to go out to go on a date," But Alastor must have not heard it or choose to not say anything.
The rest of your night there wasn't that bad either. Angel did end up coming back, but not without his arms full of booze bottles of all kinds. They didn't serve drinks here but at least Angel was wise enough to buy some solo cups too. No one was really paying attention to the bowling anymore either. (You lost, not that you cared or anything.... You did.) Instead, you and your friends had gathered around in the arcade, drinking, laughing, playing games, and picking on each other harmlessly. You enjoyed every second of it, much to your surprise. Alastor did as well, though... He still insisted on his proper date once you got home.
112 notes · View notes
rpd-rookie · 3 years
Text
The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)
Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.
Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 
Part 1 / Part 2
***
Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.
William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?
But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.
Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!
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Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.
But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.
So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.
You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.
Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.
“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?
You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!
You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”
You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.
“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”
Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”
With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.
“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”
You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?
“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”
This better not hurt this time…
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justreadingfics · 4 years
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It’s a Deal (Ch. 14)
Chapter Summary: Hearts are broken.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: angst, “The Mandalorian” reference.
A/N: One more chapter after this and we’re done. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer for having my back. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.
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There’s that annoying little chilling feeling running down his spine while Bucky parks his bike on the nearest parking lot to your building and steps towards your place. Not the dreadful feeling he gets on missions when his life or others’ are in danger. No, not that one. Is that feeling he gets when he knows something’s up, something’s out of order, not necessarily bad, but something that he needs to put his focus on…
He’s been trying to hold himself from going to your place, he knows that it may sound like he’s imposing himself in your personal space, in your life, but he’s been trying to call you in the last few hours, sent a few messages but you haven’t answered  and then that annoying little feeling came to say hello.
And in his long ass life, he’s learned better than to ignore that feeling. He knows you’re not at work because it’s a Sunday and maybe you just went out somewhere without your phone and he’s just being paranoid or something… But he’ll just check if you’re ok, see those pretty eyes of yours and leave. That’s it.  He may seem like a fucking stalker, but if that is going to assure him you’re ok, then so be it.
And God knows how much he would appreciate a glimpse of you right now.
The little hairs on his neck stand in attention at the sight he catches from the corner of your street and brings him to a full stop. That short little asshole of your ex, dragging a big suitcase with one hand and holding a couple of boxes with the other.
Bucky’s heart races and he frowns, watching when that Eddie guy lets go of the suitcase and balances himself to not let the boxes fall while he types the code to open the front door, getting into your building right after, dragging the suitcase with him.
The air catches in Bucky’s throat before it comes out in short little breaths. His mind runs with all the possible scenarios that would explain that scene… he desperately searches for ones that don’t have to mean what his jumping heart is telling him it means.
He’s not thinking clearly through the mess that his mind has become, but he decides he needs to see it for himself, as dreadful as he is of what he’s going to see.
In a few long and quick steps he’s at the building’s door, typing the numbers he’s just registered the douchebag typing and in a second he’s in the elevator up to your floor.
Once he’s at your door, ready to knock on the wood, his hand stops midair, before it drops to his side while he sighs. Deeply. This is madness… he shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t need to see anything, he can wait and talk to you some other time, when he’s less… anguished… anxious… He knows what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t mean that’s the case. You and the guy had lived together for years… maybe he’s just returning some of your stuff… maybe… damn… he brushes his hand over his face, harshly. He should leave.
And he’s about to do exactly that when the door opens.
Bucky has been calling the guy a short little asshole all this time and, while he still may be an absolute jackass and Bucky surely and easily beats him in height, somehow he feels like the smallest person on earth standing in front of the man right now.
“Can I help you?” Eddie asks, hardening his face after an immeasurable moment of stunned silence between the two men.
“Ahm,” Bucky clears his throat and keeps his voice firm, “Can I talk to Y/N?”  
Eddie lets out a small puff and God knows how much Bucky needs to hold himself back from punching that stupid little face, “She’s not home, she had a call for something at work,” Eddie answers plainly.
Bucky feels when his jaw tightens painfully and his chest puffs, “Then what the hell are you doing here?”  His voice comes out dangerously low as his chin tips up.
A little and annoying smirk twists Eddie’s lips and… fuck, Bucky has a terrible feeling about that. “Not that I need to give you any explanation but I’m moving back. This is my home again.” He regards Bucky for a second after adding, “Our home.”
The words punch the air out of Bucky’s lungs and, looking behind Eddie’s shoulder he sees the numerous boxes… your place… where he had you in his arms so many times now filled with that guy’s stuff next to your things… His stomach churns violently.
“Are you… are you and Y/N...” he can’t even finish the question, the words getting stuck in his throat, choking him like a deadly poison.
“Listen, dude…” Eddie bursts out, “What Y/N and I have isn’t some kind of fling or deal or whatever one small time apart can destroy, we belong together.” He huffs and bites his cheek before continuing impatiently, while all Bucky can do is stare at him, frozen in place, ”I have no time for this. If you have questions you can ask her whenever you want, if she has anything to explain to you, she will. Now if you excuse me.” He gestures towards the elevator.
Bucky would rather die a thousand times before he would allow himself to continue showing a single more minute of vulnerability in front of that guy… so he sucks it all down his throat and, holding himself in the excruciating pain rushing up his chest like it’s an anchor, he puts on a hard face and just nods, stepping away while he meets, for the first time, the ache he knows is the feeling of his heart breaking.
~~~
 At the sight before her, Natasha sighs and remembers the time when she would find much different scenarios when she would burst into Bucky’s place. Where she would usually find different underwear tossed around the floor and small parties in his room, now she sees a metal armed dude sprawled on the sofa, face deep into not one, but two huge pints of Stark Raving Hazelnuts from Ben & Jerry’s, while Home Alone plays on the TV, and an Alpine lays comfortably on his lap.
Her little head perks up once Nat’s steps into the room. At least one of them acknowledges her presence.  
“Jesus, Bucky...”
He then moves his gaze to her direction, showing off his puffed eyes while shoving a huge spoon of ice-cream in his mouth, “What?” He speaks with a mouthful, “Breakfast?” He makes an offering gesture with the pint.
“I see you at least put on your uniform,” Nat ignores the offer, stepping towards him, kicking aside the many remains and open packages of junk food on her way. She slaps his leg off the sofa so she can sit beside him. As he grumpily adjusts his position to give her room, an equally grumpy Alpine jumps off his lap and aims a gaze of sheer contempt at Nat, before sauntering towards her plate of food in the kitchen.  
“Well… Show must go on, right?” Bucky answers while his saddened gaze fixes on the tv again.
Nat just stares at him for a moment, her heart twisting in sorrow at his miserable demeanor, “Listen…” she says, with a softer tone, “I checked, she really is on a mission.” At that, she spots the twitch on his jaw, but he doesn’t look back at her, “Apparently it was some last-minute thing about Thor and earthly technology.” Nat frowns and shrugs, “That’s probably the reason why she’s not picking up your calls or mine for the last couple of days. She’s just busy. You can talk to her when she comes back.”
“Why?” He puts the pints of ice cream aside as his face snaps at her.
Despite the initial harshness on his tone, there’s no trace of anger there on his expression. Just… sadness… and, honestly, Nat would deal better with the anger. She’s never seen Bucky like this… not after he came back from Wakanda.
Bucky breathes in a shuddering breath, like it’s painful for him to even do that before he continues speaking, “The guy is back to her place, Nat… all his fucking boxes and clothes and shit next to hers. They’re back together. That’s it. I honestly don’t wanna listen to her telling me how much that guy matters to her…” His voice cracks, but he goes on talking, “That she and I was fun, I was a good fuck and all but not good enough compared to ten years with that…” He huffs, “That douchebag. I don’t wanna hear her saying he’s the real deal and not me.” He bites on his cheek, looking at Nat with eyes becoming glossy, “I just don’t think I can.”
“Bucky…”
“Ugh, no, seriously Nat, fuck,” he growls while he narrows his eyes and his jaw tightens, “Seriously, that guy… if he only… shit… he doesn’t deserve her.” Indignance pours out of his voice, which comes out through his teeth while his hands clench into fists, “He doesn’t appreciate what he has… ugh…” He groans, and lets himself fall back into the sofa, “But…” He sighs, and nods, licking his lips, “If that’s what she wants… I’m not gonna try and take it away from her. I won’t.”  He shrugs.
Like she’s sensing the distress in her human, Alpine materializes on the sofa, between Nat and Bucky, and lets out a meow before curling herself against his thigh. Bucky absentmindedly starts petting her neck, staring up to the ceiling.
Nat could hear the pain of his heart shattering through his words. As for her… regret creeps up inside her. Regret for starting this between Bucky and you. She had a feeling that things could go south, but in all the scenarios she pictured for that, Bucky being the one heartbroken definitely wasn’t one of them. And yet, there he is. Devastated. Completely fucked. In a way she never thought she would see him for… love.
Damn… 
“Are you guys ready?”
The three of them turn towards the voice, spotting Steve there, in his full gear and his signature worried and yet soft look that belongs to Bucky.
“Yup,” Bucky taps on his thighs and grabs Alpine in one hand, who meows loudly, and two suitcases, one bigger and one smaller with the other one.
“Are you seriously taking her with us?” Nat checks, following him towards the door.
“Wherever I go, she goes,” he answers, his voice as down as his face.
“Buck,” Steve puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder, stopping him at the door, “Are you sure you’re ok to go on the mission, I can-“
“I’m fine, punk,” Bucky cuts him off, “I’m a grown ass man, I can handle my feelings.” 
As Bucky walks past his friend and moves to the elevator, Nat exchanges looks with Steve. She’s heard Bucky saying that exact sentence numerous times lately, after he acknowledged the way he feels for you.
The difference is that the usual confidence is just not there anymore.
~~~
You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses. 
You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.
He leans into your touch.
You make a decision.
 Your heart and mind are finally set together in what you now know you want. Hell… you think you know this for a while, but now… with Eddie bringing all those memories and telling you all of that, it did help you get through the split in your heart and mend it back into one. A whole new heart.
One that is all his.
His.
“Eddie,” your voice is soft, while he smiles up at you, “I remember all of that.” You smile, too, referring to the box of memories next you, “Every single memory… everything we shared… those ten years… they helped me mold me into what I am. There’s no me, there’s no what I am today without them,” you state, while, with your thumb, you caress his cheek.
Eddie nods, “There’s no me without you, either, that’s why I’m here.”
“But, Eddie…” you sigh and lick you lips, “Remember how you’ve told me a couple of times I seem different?”
The smile on Eddie's face slowly drops.
“That’s because I am… I’m not just… I’m not just that anymore.” You nod towards the box, “I found out there’s more in me, and honestly, I think there’s more in you, too, that just doesn’t fit to what we used to be anymore.”
He blinks repeated times, staring up at you, and you lean even closer and cup both sides of his face. 
“I’m sorry. This is all part of who I am. You’re part of who I am. But I can’t go back.” You shake your head, “I can’t.”  
He keeps his stare on you and, after a moment, like he’s been processing what you said to him, he lets out a huff, “Are you serious?” he harshly pulls your hands away from his face and gets up, “Are you fucking serious? Is this because you’re fucking that guy?” He raises his voice, gesturing away.
“Eddie…” You tilt your head as a warning sign.
“No, seriously, you’re trading me, you’re trading us for what?” He spits and points to his chest while his face contorts into something ugly you’ve never seen on him before, “A player who will throw you in the trash for the next nicer piece of ass he sees? For what? A good fuck? An eight pack? A few more inches of dick? Come on…”
“Hey,” you snap, rushing up from your seat to level him, “What the fuck, Eddie?” You curse, as he stares back at you defiantly, “First of all you don’t get to talk to me like that, you lower you goddamn tone.” You point a finger at him, “And, honestly? Bucky is not just “that guy” to me. He’s not a player. You don’t know him, and you don’t know who I am with him, you could never know.”
Through the anger bringing red blurs to your vision, you see when his Adam bone bobs, but he keeps an insolent chin lifted up and he has struck something in you by talking about Bucky and your feelings for him in such a belittling way.  
“I didn’t want things to end like that,” you continue, shaking your head, “I really didn’t, but if you’re talking shit you don’t know the first thing about… ugh… fuck that,” you let out a harsh breath, “In one month or so Bucky respected and appreciated me more than you did in ten years. With him I don’t have to pretend I like or don’t like things just not to upset him or whatever, I learned I can be fun and honest… and…  and he fucking eats my pussy, for God’s sake,” you burst out in a rush of spite.
Eddie takes a step back, completely stunned by your words and outburst, while a dead silence settles in the room.
“Wow,” he mumbles nodding his head and looking away from you.
You shut your eyes and breathe in deeply, letting your head drop for a moment, while reason starts to come back to your senses, “Shit… shit…” You curse under your breath, looking up at him again, “This is not about that, Eddie…” you say, being honest with him and yourself, “I loved you, I really did, you are so important… I appreciate our time together so much… but now…” You press your lips in a taut line and shrugs, “It’s over…And, yeah… Bucky may be in my life now, but-“
He snorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. There’s pure scorn in his gaze for you, but you decide to ignore that. Eddie really matters a lot to you and you don’t want to end it in such a bad note. You want closure for the two of you, so both of you can accept what you had is over and move on with your lives. 
“But this is not about him. Not completely, at least,” you continue, “It’s us Eddie.” You plead, taking a step closer to him, “Our relationship meant the world, but… but I think we outgrew it-”
“You speak for yourself,” he spits.
You sigh at the anger that is still there, spilling through his voice, but you nod, and speaks softly, “Ok, then… I outgrew our relationship, but even if you think you haven’t, that doesn’t mean it would be good for you to insist on something you realized at some point it wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You can’t deny that.”  
You gasp and try to keep your balance when he drops on his knees and latches himself at you, hugging your waist tightly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I caused all this, but please don’t leave me, don’t give up on us,” he begs, his voice breaking, pressing his cheek on you, “Please… please.”
“Eddie… Eddie…” You try catching his attention, as he keeps his chant of remorseful and begging words,  “Stop... stop, Eddie, come here.”
You reach down for his forearms, adding some force to pull him up, to which he lets you. 
When his weeping face levels yours, you gently wipe the tears falling down with your fingers, “You ended this because you weren’t happy, either, and it’s ok. It’s ok to let go,” you say, gently, before cupping his face and fixing your gaze on his, “Let go, Eddie. Let go.”
He exhales, his eyes shutting. While you keep gentle hands on his face, he brings his forehead to yours.
“We’re gonna be ok,” you whisper, wishing that he would understand that moving on is the best thing for the two of you.
At that, he harshly parts himself from you. Hurt and rejection plastered all over his face while he averts his gaze from you.
“Eddie… I don’t know what else to say,” you heave a sigh.   
Before he gives you the comeback he’s about to give you, which you know it wasn’t gonna be a nice one, your phone rings. Nick Fury’s ringtone.
“Shit,” you curse, “I’m sorry, I need to pick that.” You rush and reach out for your phone on the center table, “Yes, Sir… of course… absolutely. I’ll gather my team and will be there in one hour, tops. Alright.”
“It’s work…” you tell Eddie, looking down as you turn off your phone.
“On a fucking Saturday night?” Eddie scoffs, not looking at you.
“Thor is on a solo mission and needs assistance from my team. Fury asked me to lead it. I…” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back at you, “I need to go change,” you say, defeated by his refusal to engage with you or with what you’ve been trying to tell him so far.
Once you come back from your bedroom in a hurry and ready to leave, Eddie is there in the living room, now sitting on the sofa.
“Are you sure?” He asks once you walked over the sofa and met his dull gaze.
“Yes.”
He nods slowly, biting his cheek.
“I’m gonna need to go now, Eddie,” you tentatively say. You step closer to him, but he turns his face to the other side and you take the hint. Stopping on your track.
“What of this place?” He gestures around.
You look around the place you two got together and as from that moment, you don’t see yourself in it anymore. Satisfied with your decision, you walk towards the key hook on the wall and he watches as you come closer to him again and take his hand from his lap, putting the keys in his palm.
“This place is not mine anymore,” you give him a tight smile.
You hold his hand a little longer while his gaze lingers at where you’re touching him.
“Goodbye, Eddie,” you say.
When he doesn’t give you an answer or even spares a look your way, you sigh, deeply. If that’s how he wants it to go, so be it. Letting go of his hand you walk to the door.
As soon as you step aside from your now former home, you realize you’re also walking towards a new phase of your life and you take in a big and refreshing breath before a loose smile forms in your lips. There’s only one thing in your mind, now. Or better, one person.
Bucky.  
~~~
1K notes · View notes
jjkpls · 3 years
Text
the wishlist (m) - 2
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“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”
> genre : light angst, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> words : 5k
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo
previous - next
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It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.
When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart. 
You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong. 
Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.
He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends. 
And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table. 
The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided). 
But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is. 
And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you. 
There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it. 
The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it. 
And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.
The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf. 
It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open. 
Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.
But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.
It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.
A bit scared.
Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?
Doesn’t make any sense. 
But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood. 
Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?
Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.
You are infuriated.
How dares he? You are mortified.  How dares he?
What does this fucking mean? 
A joke?
Is it a joke?
If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that. 
And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?
Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear. 
“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you. 
“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses. 
“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone. 
“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”
Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you. 
“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”
The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.
When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet. 
You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.
You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.
You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.
For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.
He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake. 
The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot. 
Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you. 
“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.
He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one. 
“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.
What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?
Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?
“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?” 
“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“
“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt. 
“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”
Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.
Ugh.
You’re such a bitch. 
“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination. 
Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious. 
“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”
The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.
The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar. 
“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“ 
He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure. 
There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes. 
It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere. 
“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?
He can’t take it in his hands.
You’ll die if he takes it in his hands. 
Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back. 
“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.
Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.
“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.
It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?
Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.
Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment. 
“Why are you so butthurt?”
His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp. 
“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him. 
“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?” 
“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”
“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”
Hardly makes sense. 
“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”
“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“
Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.
“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).
The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”
“Is it? What is?”
“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”
“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”
“Well, I would. I am.”
“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been. 
“But what if I need girl advice-“
“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”
“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”
“Jungkook-“
“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“
“Jungkook!” 
He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.
With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth. 
“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”
Horror.
How the fuck-
“How the fuck do you know about that?”
“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.
What happened indeed? 
Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those. 
“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming. 
“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”
“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too. 
“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it. 
“Back in your old days.”
“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?” 
“Something like that.”
“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.” 
Is he really going to make you do that?
As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything. 
“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”
“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it. 
“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”
“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.” 
“Great. I don’t care.” 
He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”
The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you. 
Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.
They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.
He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”. 
And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it. 
At the moment, anyway, you meant it.
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A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.
tag list: @moon-asia​ @btstrasht​ @jkbangtan7​ @taehugger​ @kaepjjangiya​ @daggerbeneathmygown​ @cuteipat​  @jinsalpaca​
PLEASE ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE COMMENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! TY <3
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kstewdeux · 3 years
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For a span of a minute that felt like an eternity, the entire world focused in on one singular point. A small painting. It’s edges well worn. Finer details faded and lost due to the passage of time but otherwise, in shockingly good condition.
But for all it’s antiquity, there was no mistaking the young woman who had been depicted. Whoever wrote the small exhibition label had simply labeled it:
Unidentified Artist, Japanese
Late Tokugawa Shogunate, Edo Period, 1853-1867
Young Woman
Painting on Parchment
H. Nakamura Trust, 88.251
According to the small blurb beneath the exhibition label, this tiny piece of parchment, clearly kept over the past century with meticulous care, had - at some point - apparently been studied by scholars to prove it was genuine. A fact that had been in dispute because the style diverged so greatly from art styles of the period but Kagome knew what the artist had been trying to do.
A photograph. He’d tried to mimic a photograph. Not perfect by any means but as close as someone in that time period could get. Which was shocking given (a) she had no idea he could draw and (b) that he would’ve taken the time to draw her.
Jaw trembling, Kagome had to remind herself to breathe. A task made more difficult as her friends joined her and began commenting on how the girl in the drawing resembled her.
Of course it did. It was her.
Her blurry vision flicked to the date and what registered felt like something cold was crushing her heart. If this ‘unidentified artist’ was him, Inuyasha had survived their quest and lived hundreds of years clearly hoping to see her again. At some point, he must have realized he simply wasn’t going to make it and…
Exhaling shakily, Kagome swallowed and decided it would be easier to simply leave. She was getting worked up over nothing. It was entirely possible that all of this was a coincidence. That she was reading too much into it. After all, Inuyasha wasn’t an artist by any means and most certainly would not have spent hundreds of years thinking about her. They were friends. Just friends. Unless something changed, which seemed unlikely, he had no interest in being with her that way. Besides, surely there were other women who looked like her throughout history. Everyone had a doppelgänger, right? Hers just happened to be some random woman in 19th century Japan.
It was just a painting of her doppelgänger.
Hopefully. Hopefully that’s all that it was.
“I have to go,” Kagome mumbled hoarsely as she took a step back and tore her eyes away from the painting, “I need to go.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Yuka asked worriedly, “Do…”
Unable to hear anything over the ringing in her ears, Kagome’s eyes wavered as they flicked back to the blurb that, upon closer inspection, described the other sketches and accompanying notes that detailed the artist’s ‘love’ for the young woman depicted. Various photographs of said notes had been attached slightly below said blurb and one of them had her shaking her head in mild horror.
‘I will not know your name next time we meet…’
“I need to go,” Kagome repeated breathlessly before turning on her heel and damn near running for the entrance. After that, she wouldn’t’ve been able to tell you how long or far or even which direction she ran from the mental image of an elderly Inuyasha writing out those notes he had to believe she’d never read. It might not even be him. Couldn’t be him. He didn’t draw. Couldn’t say something poetic much less write it. It had to be a coincidence. Just a coincidence but the image continued playing in her mind until she was blinded by tears. He died alone. Even…even if she did end up with him, she would’ve been dead by the time he wrote that. Long before he even picked up that brush. It…it…
It was all becoming too painful to even imagine.
Coming to an abrupt halt, Kagome clutched at her chest and used the side of a cement building for support. Inuyasha died over a hundred years ago and while that made sense, the realization that all her friends had died sometime in the past five hundred years hit her with all the force of a Mack truck.
Whimpering softly, her legs gave out and she slid down to the cold sidewalk. It was a coincidence. Just a coincidence. The probability of it all…
Well it just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. It just…
“There you are,” came a hoarse, relieved whisper from far too close before two strong arms scooped her up and pulled her off the ground, “What happened? I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“Inuyasha?” Kagome mumbled stupidly before she whined and pressed her face into the corner of his neck - a gesture which had him stopping and doing something strange. His face turned slightly and buried his nose into her hair.
“What happened? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what happened,” he chided anxiously as he gave her a light squeeze, “You hurt?”
Opening her eyes, Kagome glanced around the dimly lit streets and realized how late it was. No wonder he’d come after her.
“M’fine. Got lost is all,” she lied lamely and she felt him inhale deeply then sigh.
“Bullshit. What happened?” he asked again before adding in a clear attempt to get her to smile, “I don’t mind killing people ya know. If someone hurt you, I’ll make them pay, ya know, if you want.”
“Nothing happened. Just got lost on my way home,” she mumbled and with a somewhat exasperated grunt, Inuyasha continued walking again.
“You’re a terrible liar and an idiot,” Inuyasha opined firmly - adjusting his hold on her and shaking his head, “You could’ve gotten hurt out here by yourself, stupid. Anything could’ve happened.”
“I was…”
“Sometimes I swear you’re trying to get yourself killed,” he continued chiding as some of his anger began bubbling to the surface, “What would’ve happened if I didn’t come looking, huh?”
“I said I’m sorry,” she protested weakly - her nose subtly nuzzling the flesh at the base of his neck, “I…”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. You need to do better,” Inuyasha snapped angrily before pausing mid-stride and sighing, “I swore to protect you but you make it so…so hard sometimes. And you don’t even care. You just…just go around getting kidnapped or disappearing and…and getting hurt when I’m not looking.”
It was strange but hearing his voice berate her and feeling his irritated breaths actually improved her mood considerably.
“I waited. Like an idiot I waited for you to come back from that school thing of yours instead of coming to get you like normal but…but then the sun went down and…” Inuyasha continued to huffed and grunt while his arms held her slightly tighter, “I can’t be there all the time dammit. I can’t. I’d like to be but…but I just can’t so…so you just have to fucking do better.”
Lifting her head slightly at this strange command, Kagome studied his face for a moment before leaning forward and absently placing a kiss on his tense neck. Inuyasha went stock still and then rigid but she couldn’t find it in her to care.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll do better,” she promised tiredly as she pressed another lazy kiss on his shoulder. At least in this moment, he was alive and loved. Right now, he wasn’t alone drawing paintings and writing notes to someone who was either dead or hadn’t been born yet. And while true that the ‘unidentified artist’ was probably anyone else, that mental image of it being him continued to haunt her.
Taking a deep breath, Kagome stubbornly told herself that the ‘unidentified artist’ couldn’t be him. It simply wasn’t possible. For so many reasons.
“You kissed me,” Inuyasha finally blurted and mercifully distracted from her inner turmoil, Kagome hummed in the affirmative. A second passed then two and he forced out a strangled, “W-why?”
“I wanted to,” Kagome offered tiredly as she focused on the feel of him and the knowledge that, as of this moment, he was very much alive. And yes, now that she was a little calmer, it was fairly obvious that the ‘unidentified artist’ wasn’t Inuyasha. He didn’t think of her in that way. Never had. Never would. They were friends. Best friends. But he loved someone else and had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in her that way.
As Kagome continued talking herself down, Inuyasha remained motionless for a long time before he finally began walking back towards the shrine. Slowly. Every so often he’d pause and take a few short breaths like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.
“Why did you want to?” he finally asked hesitantly as he turned a corner, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Because you’re you,” she mumbled as her consciousness began ebbing. With a soft sigh, she relaxed more fully against his warm chest and offered up an additional explanation, “It made me happy.”
This response clearly bothered him judging by the increased tension in his muscles.
“Why did kissing me make you happy?” he pressed after another long moment of silence.
“Dunno. Why do you think it…” Kagome trailed off into a yawn and Inuyasha let out a small groan.
“I don’t know. That’s why I was asking,” Inuyasha interrupted with a huff of frustration, “You always make things hard. For no reason.”
Instead of getting angry, Kagome simply cooed and snuggled into him which seemed to both bother and calm him.
“You’re so stupid,” he continued to grumble as he adjusted his hold, “Ask a simple question and you just…act like you.”
“How else am I supposed to act?” Kagome hummed with mild amusement and Inuyasha grunted.
“Whatever. You need to sleep,” he changed the subject miserably as he finally made it to the shrine and began climbing the steps, “But don’t think I’m gunna take it easy on you. I’m serious. You can’t do shit like that again. You could’ve gotten…”
“Will you stay here tonight?” Kagome interrupted tiredly and Inuyasha once again stopped mid-step. His hands flexed against the flesh they were gripping as he licked his lips and averted his eyes.
“Only if you tell me why you really kissed me,” he repeated his earlier question - before continuing with an unease tinged with hope which surprised her, “I think I deserve some answers after the stupid stunt you just pulled and if you’re trying…if you did that to just…just distract me, it won’t work. Won’t change nothing. You still gotta be less stupid.”
“I did it because I wanted to,” Kagome repeated before gasping when he suddenly set her down and glared.
“Well what if I didn’t want you to?” Inuyasha huffed - something strangely hurt behind his expressive amber eyes, “You’ve never tried to mess with me before. Never. And…and do you have any idea how scared I was when you didn’t come home? I searched for you, Kagome. From the…the 6 to the 9. Do you know how hard it is to track scents here? To listen for you? It’s a literal miracle that I…”
“I said I’m sorry,” Kagome insisted and Inuyasha looked even more hurt. Breathing heavily, he visibly tried to control whatever reaction was brewing under the surface but unfortunately, his confusion and hurt bubbled over.
“I DON’T WANT AN APOLOGY!” Inuyasha bellowed - his hurt escalating into full blown anger with such speed it nearly gave her whiplash, “YOU COULD’VE DIED. YOU COULD’VE BEEN HURT! AND I’M NOT SO DESPERATE THAT A STUPID KISS IS GUNNA MAKE ME FORGET THAT! WHY DID YOU KISS ME?!”
“I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you!” Kagome snapped and Inuyasha looked a hair away from strangling her.
“THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER! YOU’RE JUST TRYING TO COVER YOUR ASS AND…” Inuyasha began to rail against her once more and it was at that point Kagome’s mind officially hit It’s breaking point. He wanted answers, huh? He wanted to know why she ran and why she kissed him and why she was so upset?!
“FINE! KNOW WHY I DID THAT?! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Kagome screamed bitterly and Inuyasha froze like a deer in the headlights, “I KISSED YOU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! THERE! HAPPY?!”
When Inuyasha continued gaping at her with a shell-shocked expression, the full ramifications of what she’d just admitted hit her like a ton of bricks.
“Forget it,” she breathed miserably as she turned and unsteadily began climbing the stairs with her arms curled tightly around her stomach, “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do…any of that again. Just forget what I said.”
“Wait. Wait,” Inuyasha’s strangely panicked voice called out - a single clawed hand gripping her shoulder to force her to stop, “I don’t think I heard that right. W-why did you…”
“Let me go Inuyasha,” Kagome hissed but the hand didn’t release her.
“C-can I tell you w-what I heard?” he asked with a mixture of fear and desperation, “A-and I could be wrong but I just…”
“You hear everything Inuyasha,” Kagome huffed acidly as she pushed away his hand with all her might, “You heard what I said…”
Even as she climbed the stairs, she could hear his harsh rapid breaths which honestly had her moving a little faster. Everything was ruined now. All because of some stupid little painting that she’d just…
“You…you said you…you loved me,” he repeated barely above a whisper, “Right?”
Closing her eyes, Kagome let out a long sigh before squaring her shoulders and deciding to face her mistake head on.
“I do love you but I don’t…” she began as she turned to face him before being cut off when a pair of lips captured her own. Two strong arms snaked around her waist for but a moment before his calloused hands suddenly cupped her face in an effort to force her to respond.
When she finally did and when he finally pulled back, his slightly euphoric expression faded into mild horror and panic.
“Y-you said you l-loved me back, r-right?” he asked worriedly as he released and took an involuntary step back, “That’s…that’s what you said. Two, no, three times. You said that…”
“That I loved you…back,” Kagome repeated slowly and Inuyasha gave a jerky nod in response.
“That’s what you said,” he insisted miserably - his amber eyes flicking in the direction of the well, “So…and I mean, you did start the…the kissing so I…and you were an idiot. Scared me half to…”
“Know what? That is what I said,” Kagome hummed in a resigned fashion as she reached out and gestured for him to take her hand, “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s late.”
Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha eyed the beckoning hand with weary apprehension before accepting the gesture and allowing her to lead him into the house. And up the stairs. And into her bedroom. And then onto her bed. A bed upon which he found himself awkwardly waiting while Kagome proceeded to change and get ready for the night.
“Where are you gunna sleep…” he began nervously when it finally dawned on him that she seemed to be intending for him to sleep on the bed. That’s where she led him and where she told him to stay after all. Which was strange but it had been a strange night. Maybe she was trying to make him feel better. Do him a favor?
“In the bed,” Kagome hummed as she ran a brush through her hair and gave him a warm smile. A smile that faded when he stood up and began nervously glancing around with a marked blush.
“Inuyasha, where are you going?”
“You’re gunna sleep on the bed,” he muttered as he prepared to sleep in his normal position on the floor, “And you…well I was gunna…”
“If you want, you can sleep in the bed with me…”
Amber eyes widened as a single impulsive ‘oh’ left his lips but instead of sitting back down on the bed, he remained standing and staring at her with that same shell-shocked expression.
“Is that…okay?” Kagome asked nervously.
Seeming to come back to himself, Inuyasha nodded fervently and quickly sat down atop the mattress.
“Y-yeah thats…that’s…yeah. Yeah. We can do that…”
That night was the first of many nights he spent cuddled up against the woman of his dreams. Letting the warmth of her body span the length of his own as he relished in the knowledge that somehow this woman loved him. How, when or even why didn’t matter. She loved him back and that first night, as he held her small frame against him, he very nearly cried in relief. Honestly, before that night, he had already decided he was going to let her go rather than say anything. There was no way she’d ever love him back, he’d reasoned. No one would ever want to be with a half-breed, right? He’d never been so happy to be wrong.
Weeks went by after that and the funny thing was, when Kagome absently mentioned the painting from the museum to her friends over lunch, none of them had the faintest clue what she was talking about. All they remembered was her leaving in a rush. While Kagome chalked this up to the art not being memorable to anyone else, the truth was that no one else would ever remember this art because it simply never existed.
The second she’d admitted her feelings - emotions he fully reciprocated but had suppressed - all those drawings and notes faded from the annuals of time because that painting- which had been loaned to the museum by a well meaning unrelated widow who thought the unique artwork would make for an interesting exhibit - turned out to be a butterfly which was inadvertently crushed. As the years rolled on, Inuyasha never needed to paint something to bring him comfort in the midst of crushing regret and loneliness.
Why would he?
Thanks to a merciful series of events, he woke up to his favorite smiling face every day for the rest of his life.
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v-hope · 4 years
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Comfort, 7:48PM — Tiger Flower
“You’re feeling better?” you wondered, placing your phone down on the couch the two of you were sitting down on. “Or did you only smile for the picture?”
Jeongguk snorted, shaking his head in amusement. After only a few minutes in your company, it was fair to say he was no longer feeling miserable like he had been the night before and a good part of that same day. It was funny, actually, how your presence alone could have such effect on him and his mood.
“I’m better”.
Staring at him for a few seconds to try and see whether he was lying or not, you finally gave it up, nodding your head as you decided to just believe him.
“May I ask what were you so upset about though?” you asked softly, afraid of bringing up a touchy topic.
And just like that, his semblance became serious once again, remaining silent and answering your question with a simple shrug before he leaned his back against the couch.
What else was he supposed to do? Open his mouth and go ‘I was just heartbroken at the idea of you and my hyung being together for real?’. Yeah, that was most definitely not happening.
“So… how did things go yesterday?” he questioned a couple of seconds later, not needing to mention Taehyung for you to understand what he was talking about.
“It was fun” you kept it simple. “Why? You wanna know the details?”
Although you had said that in a cheery, teasing tone, Jeongguk didn’t seem as eager when he shook his head no — being conflicted still between wanting to know and not wanting to at all.
“Was it a date?” he managed to ask anyway, voice barely audible and eyes fixing somewhere else.
“Huh?”
“Yesterday… with hyung” he elaborated, this time speaking louder, trying his best for his voice not to betray him and show just how scared he was of your possible answer to what he wanted to ask. “And now today as well…” his eyes focused on you. “Are you guys together?”
There it was again. That same feeling you had felt the day before when he asked about you and Taehyung going on a date. Guilt.
“N-No… we’re not” although your answer sounded nervous, it was enough for him to feel like he could breathe again. “And about the date, I mean… I don’t, I don’t know…” you lowered your head, looking to your hands on your lap as you fidgeted whilst trying to find the right words. “He would’ve called it a date if it was, right?”
“He would?” Jeongguk wondered.
“Isn’t that what people do?” you answered with another question. “When you’ve asked girls out on dates you’ve called them that, haven’t you?”
“Wouldn’t know” he shrugged.
Your eyes fixed on him attentively. “What do you mean you wouldn’t know?”
He shrugged once more, like it didn’t really matter. “I’ve never asked anyone on a date... or even been on one for that matter”.
You froze. “You’re joking, right?”
“Is it really that hard to believe?” he let out a small, breathy laugh.
“Yeah” you answered in a heartbeat — the confidence you had expressed yourself with causing his cheeks to flush.
“I haven’t” he confirmed.
“Why not?” you couldn’t help but pry, at which he just shrugged once again in response.
In all honesty, you couldn’t believe he had never gone on a date. Sure, he had never mentioned anything regarding the topic to you, but he was a quiet person to begin with, you thought he just wasn’t the type to talk about his love life. Never would it have crossed your mind that a guy as great as him had nothing really going on there.
Silence had suddenly filled the room, and although for some reason your heart felt kind of uneasy at what you were about to propose, you went on.
“There’s so many girls on campus I know for a fact would love going out with you, maybe if you—”
“I’m not interested in any of them, petal” he cut you off, fixing his eyes on yours — both of you missing the way they were begging for you to understand.
To please understand he was not interested in anyone who wasn’t you.
“Oh…” you frowned, this time feeling a small twinge in your heart at the thought that had just invaded your mind. “You’re… interested in someone else already then?”
He shrugged. “There’s kinda only one person who’s ever managed to really catch my attention, so...”
You lowered your head, nodding faintly before you, almost inaudibly, mumbled. “Mhm… Sooyeon”
“What?” his head snapped in your direction when he did not get what you had said right then.
“Sucks,” you spoke louder this time, correcting yourself and hoping he’d fall for it. “It must really suck… not having anyone else catch your eye anymore” the corners of your mouth curved slightly up in a rather weak smile. “She must’ve been really great to manage to cause such an impression”.
A breathy laugh escaped his throat, staring down to his fidgeting fingers. “Yeah… she is”.
“You could still try and throw yourself out there, though…” you shrugged. “Who knows, you could end up falling for someone else eventually”.
And it was at that exact moment, when your own advice left your mouth and you could no longer ignore that annoying uneasy feeling you got in your chest every time you brought up the idea of Guk with someone else, that you realised it might not have been only irrational guilt what you had felt the day before when you went out with Taehyung.
Unaware of what was going through your mind, Jeongguk shrugged. The problem to your proposition was, he didn’t want to fall for someone else, he just wanted you.
“Going on dates is not really my thing” he stated, looking for an excuse yet also speaking what to him was the truth. “I’m too quiet most of the time and also awkward as h—”
“Yah, stop that” you cut him off before he could even begin.
“Stop what?” he pouted out of confusion.
“Putting yourself down” you explained. “You’re always doing that and I hate it”.
“It’s true though…”
Letting out a heavy sigh, you turned to him, sitting cross-legged on the couch so you could properly look at him. “Okay, yes. You are quiet as hell most of the time, yes. You can be a little awkward sometimes, yes. So what. That only makes you so fucking endearing” your words made his face burn — eyes searching in yours for any kind of a joke being displayed on them. “Seriously, Guk,” you reassured him once you got what he was doing. “You are so amazing. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, how can you not see it?”
“You only think that because you know me too well by now...”
“Exactly! It’s exactly because I know you that I’m saying this” you pointed out rather exasperatedly, cupping his face in your hands when his eyes travelled somewhere else not to meet yours. “No, you look at me when I say this because I mean it,” that had him looking at you in a second. “Bun, you truly have it all. You are funny, sweet, smart, talented as hell, cute and hot at the same time, which is really hard to find may I add, and it fucking sucks so much to hear you put yourself down all the time, when you have literally nothing to worry about because you could really get anyone you want if you were just confident enough to go for it”.
Silence filled the room once again, for you had ran out of words and Jeongguk was too busy trying both to process all the compliments you had just given him and calm his eager heart that was beating in such a way he couldn’t recall having ever felt before in his life.
“You think I’m hot?”
That question alone coming from his pouty lips was enough to have you throwing your head back as a loud laugh escaped your throat. “Of course out of everything I said that was the only thing you heard”.
Jeongguk laughed as well, nervously, breathily, as he couldn’t help but get shy at that particular trait having been indeed the only thing his mind had apparently registered right then.
Feeling your hands loosen their hold on his face, he was quick to prevent it — his hands gently grabbing your wrists to keep them in place, earning a smile from you as his thumbs started tenderly drawing circles on your skin.
“You mean it then?” his voice came out low.
“That you’re hot?” you couldn’t help but tease, with a light laugh following right after.
He shook his head in amusement, another chuckle leaving his mouth. “Everything you said,” he clarified. “And that if I was confident enough… you know…”
You nodded in a heartbeat. “I do mean everything I said,” he smiled at the way you had ever so sweetly said those words, enjoying the way your thumbs were gently caressing the sides of his face. “You could really get anyone you want, bun”.
Then again, he only wanted you. But he wouldn’t dare to tell you that. Not right then.
However, although he didn’t find himself capable of telling you so, his instincts told him otherwise. Without even realizing, his face started leaning in —much to his surprise, right as you started leaning in as well—, until your breathings mixed and your lips faintly brushed; eyes staring at them for a couple of seconds, as a part of you both was still hesitant to close the short space between your mouths.
And although neither of you really wanted to stop yourselves, it was that brief moment of hesitation the one that ended up turning out against you.
For had you not hesitated, you would’ve managed to feel each other’s lips for at least five seconds before the front door opened.
Jeongguk and you jolted up, nervously pulling away and trying to ignore what had almost just happened, as Namjoon and Areum, the girl he had been going out with for the last month, stood there staring at you.
“Hey” Namjoon greeted quite absently, still trying to process what he had just walked in —or almost walked in— on.
“H-Hey,” you were the one to nervously greet back, standing up and rushedly looking for your phone. “I was just about to leave”.
“Yeah,” Jeongguk rushed up as well. “I’m walking her home” he announced; just like you, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Jeongguk-ah” Areum raised one of her eyebrows teasingly.
“Noona,” he greeted her with a polite bow before he went to your side. “I, I don’t. I mean, we’re not—”
A couple.
“Yeah,” you reassured her as well once you grabbed your phone. “We’re just—”
Friends.
Yet, for some reason, neither of you were able to bring yourselves to finish those sentences.
Not wanting to deal with that anymore, you just walked over the door Namjoon was still holding open, being followed by Jeongguk right after he grabbed the jacket you were forgetting on the couch.
Standing in front of them both for a second, you gave them a small smile to say goodbye. “I’ll just—”
“Here,” Jeongguk blurted out as he placed your jacket on your shoulders, keeping his warm hands on them as he helped you out. “I’ll be right back” he informed Joon.
Watching the two of you rush out of the apartment and down the hallway, Namjoon sighed, finally closing the door behind him.
“Are they sure they’re not a couple?” Areum asked in disbelief at the scene she had just presenced.
He shrugged, not really knowing what to believe at this point. “I’m not sure anymore”.
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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years
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12. Draco's clever boyfriend
Prompt used - pushing hair behind others ear | Draco is flustered by Harry's affection|
When Draco became friends with harry after the war, harry had changed a lot, the days where they used to call each other prat had long gone, their conversations had become so civilized that if you asked a stranger if they seemed like they used to be arch nemesis once, they’d laugh at your face. 
However with Draco discovering his sexual orientation it wasn’t easy being around harry, since harry was Draco's gay awakening. He realized it after staying around harry how much he was interested in men. And it definitely didn’t help when harry was simply very affectionate in behavior, maybe it came from not having enough affection growing up or it was the aftermath of the war, Draco didn’t know and as much as he appreciated it, he sometimes hated harry for showing affection in ways that caused Draco's heart to flutter.
“ if it annoys you so much just tell him to stop doing that” pansy suggested him one day when they went out for tea 
“ but that would just crush his heart “ draco replied calmly sipping his tea 
“ no it won’t draco, he’s harry, he’s the most understanding man in the world” pansy stated as if it was the most obvious thing
" but that doesn't mean it won't hurt him that I don't want him doing affectionate thing's to me and then him understanding would be a problem " Draco sighed.
" honey, if it bothers you then just explain it to him. I am sure it's a little thing, he won't be that hurt if you explain him properly " pansy said sweetly.
" no pansy you don't understand-"
" what do I not understand Draco, you're clearly bothered by him showing affection that way and I know it's a bit awkward for you. Just tell him maybe tone down a bit " pansy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion of why Draco was Rolling his eyes
" i- I nevermind, I'll tell him to tone down a bit" Draco cut back
" no what is it, tell me ?" She leaned forward on the table, pushing her tea aside " this is clearly troubling you and I want to help you Draco "
" it's not troubling me pansy. I- If I tell him to tone down I know he'll completely back off " Draco explained
" and that is a problem because ?" Pansy asked raising her eyebrows.
Looking forward while exhaling Draco confessed " i- because I think then he'll do those things to Someone else and -"
" and you don't want that ?" Pansy asked smirking as she leaned back in understanding the troubling part
" yeah " Draco exhaled.
" so you want him to tone down or maybe stop being annoying but if Harry does it someone else, it would bother " Draco nodded " honey you've got some serious problems " pansy chuckled.
" thanks pansy for this enlightening information that I haven't figured out myself" Draco sarcastically replied. Laughing pansy shook her head " you like him, Draco, that's what the problem is. I must say I'm not surprised "
" I'm not in love with him " Draco defend
" I never said you're in love, but now I think you might be " pansy smirked
" fuck you pans" Draco rolled his eyes. For the rest of the conversation pansy kept teasing Draco about it.
As it turned out Draco was in fact jealous of Harry showing the affection the way he showed him to someone else. He only discovered it in a party when Harry was standing talking to some guy,Colin from work. He had not only bought the guy a drink but also slightly kept touching his arms every once in awhile.
" you'll crush the glass Draco" Pansy Smugly said when she noticed Draco. It wasn't a big deal but the way Harry kept touching the guy, stirred something in him. He tried hard to avoid the fact that Harry had been touching the guy but failed miserably because when he came back to talk to them, Draco Only interested him in one word answers which obviously was weird for harry.
Draco assumed that it was only matter of one day but when he walked in on Harry with some guy from work again talking while almost holding hands, like they had just shook hands, Draco couldn't resist the roll of eyes. He had gone back to his office without even talking to harry and when asked upon why he came, he Only told him he forgot.
His jealousy started to tone down when one day while harry and Draco were out shopping for Ron's birthday when Harry noticed something.
" you for your ears pierced ?" He asked with an amused smile. Smiling back Draco nodded. He didn't thought Harry would've actually wanted to take a good look on it until he realised he did.
" looks nice " Harry complimented pushing Draco's hair behind his ear. He almost stopped looking for a moment when Harry did it, Harry had been so close to his ears that he could almost feel his breath down on his neck.
" you have nice ears by the way " Harry complimented
" thanks " Draco awkwardly replied and then Harry moved away resuming to look for gifts.
It was soon Harry developed a habit of pushing Draco's attractively slightly Long hair behind his ear each time he got a chance like he did it while he was reading on the couch in Harry's place while the rest of his friends were invested in conversation. Harry had done it so absent Mindedly that Draco couldn't even smile. Once he did while they were out on a lunch outside office, Draco had almost blushed , while harry smiled fondly at him. He also did it while harry and Draco were standing next to each other for a meeting in the conference hall, Draco assumed Harry wasn't paying much attention to meeting but it was Only for a miniscule of second that Harry had taken to do it and resumed listening to the meeting attentively. And the most recent time was at Hermione's party for work while they were standing next to each other admiring the event when Harry had did it purposely and Draco could only smile. He enjoyed Harry doing this so much that he purposely covered his ears with his hair so that Harry would push it behind and harry did.
It was all fun and games until he noticed Harry doing the same with Ginny. It was as if someone had taken Draco's heart out of his heart, squeezed it and put it back inside. He hated this feeling, until now he didn't believe that Pansy was right or he didn't wanted to but now when he saw Harry holding Ginny by her arms, looking in her eyes while talking to her, leaning in towards her every once in a while, pushing her hair out of her face, Draco was beyond pissed that whenever Harry tried to approach him for the rest of the event, he simply walked away. When Ron's birthday party ended, Draco had simply wanted to go quietly but Harry had unfortunately caught up.
" hey listen, I left my wand at your place when I stopped by. Mind if I tag along ?" Apparently Draco couldn't ignore anymore so he simply nodded and they both side along apparated to Draco's place.
" it was a nice party right " Harry spoke while Draco was taking out keys from his pocket.
" yeah" Draco gave a short reply and opened the door, allowing Harry inside.
Frowning Harry walked in with Draco.
" it must be around the kitchen table " Draco said as he immediately walked into the kitchen and looked for Harry's wand.
" found it ?" Harry asked while absentmindedly looking for his wand in the living room.
" not here " Draco replied as he even checked the drawers. Deciding that the wand wasn't in the kitchen he joined Harry in the living room.
" my god, why didn't I thought of it. We could just accio it " Draco suddenly said. Harry stared at Draco dim witted
" o- oh yeah or we can look for it just like this. I mean I might've even left at Ron's place-"
" accio wand " and the wand flew out of from Harry's jacket into Draco's hands.
Holding the wand in his hands, Draco raised an eyebrow asking for an explanation.
" i- I didn't know it was there " Harry stupidly lied
" I'm not Ron Harry " Draco rolled his eyes
" okay fine. I had to talk to you, you kept ignoring me during the party " Harry threw his hands in the air
" I was not " Draco lied, defending himself.
" you're lying " Harry raised his eyebrows as if it so obvious.
" and how do you know that ?" Draco crossed his arms
" because your voice gets high when you're lying " Harry pressed his lips in a thin line trying hard not to break a smile.
Narrowing his eyes Draco defied " no it does not "
" Draco, I know when you lie. It does get pitchy " harry insisted
" fine even if I am lying why do you care, I'm sure you were the time of your life at the party " Draco rolled his eyes throwing Harry's wand at harry and walking into the kitchen just to walk away from Harry.
" why do I care ? What do you mean by that ? You're my friend, I wanted to talk to you but you kept dodging me off like a ball "
" alright, fine, you wanted to talk then talk " Draco slammed his hands on the table
" no I wanted to talk at the party-"
" then pretend we're still there. Just talk Harry, what you so desperately wanted to say that you had to lie to come here" Draco mocked
" wha- I'm not desperate to talk to you -"
" If you don't have anything to talk about Harry then leave " Draco pointed his hand at the door
" no I won't. I won't leave without you giving me an explanation about why you're being such a prat ?" Harry gave him an annoyed look
" look it's already late, if you really have to talk about something important then do otherwise I'm going to bed and you're welcome to do anything you like " Draco rolled his eyes backing off a little
" don't dodge off the question. It's not just today, you've recently been dodging me off whenever we're around people, what is wrong ?" Harry asked leaning over the kitchen table on the opposite end of Draco.
" If you really don't have anything to talk about that is important -"
" it is important to me Draco. I want to talk about this. I need to -"
" you want to talk about it then listen, I'm mad at you" Draco slammed his hands on the table again closing the distance between their faces
" what have I even done to make you mad at me ?" Harry asked, his British accent sounding much more British than it had ever sounded.
" i- nevermind. Can we not-"
" no we have to. I need Answers " Harry huffed
" look I'm tired-"
" so am I, so do us both a Favour and tell me why you're actually mad at me ?" Harry bobbed his head forward to make it more impactful
" i- I'm going to bed, you can leave whenever you want " Draco sighed as he started walking towards the bedroom but harry wasn't done and jerked Draco's wrist to look at him.
" you're not going anywhere without having this conversation " Harry was now more annoyed that before. And as much as it should've annoyed draco, it Only upset him that he was annoying him.
" watch me " Draco raised his eyebrows and wiggled out of his grip but it was just one second before Harry pulled him back again and slammed him against the wall, closing the distance between them.
" answer me Draco " Harry was furious at Draco's attempt to dodge him off again
" why do you even care, so I'm mad at you. I'll get over it " Draco furrowed his eyebrows at his Persistent behaviour.
" Because you're my friend and I don't want anything I do to Sabotage this thing " Harry answered
" well you already have Harry so congratulations " Draco huffed trying to creat some distance between them but harry wouldn't budge
" then at least tell me what did I do? You know I can't stand this " Harry desperately said finally creating some distance between them.
" why? Why can't you stand it ? It's not like we're best friends or something..I'm sure you have other friend you can cozy upto and they'll treat you just the same " Draco rolled his eyes taking the opportunity to walk into the living room.
" cozy upto ? What are you even on about ?" Harry asked turning Draco around once again to face him. Caught in the act Draco couldn't defend himself anymore, in his anger he had slipped the only crucial information he should not be slipped.
Sighing Draco ran his hands through his hair and harry immediately pushing his hair behind his ear " this " Draco suddenly said
" what?"
" this, you pushing my hair behind my ear! Giving me a coaster when I don't even ask for it , changing the songs on the radio while I'm reading for me, sending me memos before lunch to go outside, leaning on me, resting your head on my shoulder, touching my arms, noticing me, complimenting me. Everything you do for me or I thought you did but you do this for Everyone, call me stupid, Merlin I am stupid thinking I'm the only one who you did this for but I'm not. You do this for everyone, so there you go. Thought I was special but clearly I was stupid, idiot to even think that Harry potter would ever be slightly interested in me " Draco finally breathed out after the rant. Harry looked at him awestruck As if he hadn't really expected Draco to actually tell the truth.
" so you're mad because you think I do this with everyone !" Harry asked quizzically
" Merlin I sound stupid. Let's just pretend this conversation never happen-nmph " Draco was cut off by Harry pressing his lips on his. Surprised Draco took a step back for a moment to see any signs of hesitation or reluctance but when received with none, he kissed harry back. His hands automatically pulling Harry closer by his waist. Harry losing his hands in Draco's hair, pulling his head down a bit to close any distance left. Draco hadn't ever not thought about not kissing harry and now when he was finally kissing him, he poured all the desperation and desire in that sweet moment of passion. The more they spent time kissing the more they realised how much they had been missing out on and figured they could do this if it only hadn't been for breathing.
When they separated to take a breath, flustered Harry said " never knew you could be the jealous one but I guess it worked "
" you planned this ?" Draco asked shocked
" some times yeah. I had to know if you felt the same" Harry mumbled
" you're a bastard " Draco chuckled and kissed him again .
_____________________
" so that clever bastard knew what he was doing?" Pansy asked with a smug Look on her face
" I have to say my boyfriend is a clever man" Draco chuckled.
" what are you guys talking about ?" Harry suddenly joined, wrapping his hands around Draco's waist from behind and kissing his shoulder
" your Ill structured plan to get me to kiss you " Draco smirked as he leaned back into Harry.
" it worked " harry shrugged
" and I think it worked for much more " Harry Whispered in Draco's ear. His eyes widened at the Meaning of Harry's word
" at this point I pretend I don't hear Harry whispering Draco something about sex, suggest you get used to it too pans " Ron said as he passed by then eating his Sandwich to pansy who was standing their slightly embarrassed.
And they all laughed. everyone loved Harry and Draco together, he'll they'd been Betting that they would get together. It took time but it did. At the end it worked out for everyone's best.
Requests open
Day 11- hottest couple in Britain | Day 13-love is a choice
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extravaguk · 3 years
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santa&prada
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part of my opposites attract! series. 
ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk
pairing: rich!jimin x reader
summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.
wordcount: 5k
genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me
rated: m 
warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.
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The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.
You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.
Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)
To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones. 
The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.
You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.
"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.
"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"
Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.
Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.
You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.
If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.
Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.
"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"
"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.
In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.
So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks? 
But apparently, you did. 
You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.
Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.
Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.
And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone. 
Except you.
Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve. 
"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat. 
"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin)  falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."
Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.
"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.
Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.
But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.
Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.
"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"
"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."
In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.
So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.
Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.
With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now.  Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence. 
Knock knock.
The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question.  Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.
"_____, I would like to-"
"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"
The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.
This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.
But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.
Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.
"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."
Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.
And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.
"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips. 
"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."
He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall. 
"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby." 
With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.
You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.
"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."
His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.
Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes. 
"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you. 
"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.
"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck. 
"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace.  It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."
And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.
"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.
Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing. 
"Let me take you on a date." 
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Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week. 
It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away. 
And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right. 
He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be. 
But that damn dress.
After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.
That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes. 
"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.
"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony. 
"N-no!" 
Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.
"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.
"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out. 
"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."
Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed. 
But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.
"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"
"Do it again."
And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful. 
"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one. 
"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance. 
Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.
"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."
Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."
"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"
Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible. 
But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth. 
"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future. 
And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you. 
It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.
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kpop-zone · 3 years
Text
Selfish | Jihyo
Hogwarts AU | Enemies to Lovers | “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. Fuck.”
Wordcount: 3,890
A/N: Sorry if the formatting is weird, but Tumblr won’t let me post anything on my computer, so I had to post this from my phone 😬
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“Y/N!”
When Jihyo saw you running through the hallway, she could immediately feel anger seething within her, and she called your name with a sharp tone.
“Oh Jihyo, fancy meeting you here.”
After hearing her voice, you had stopped running abruptly and were now grinning at her sheepishly, pretending like you didn’t know why she was staring you down.
“Stop feigning innocence, Y/N. You’re late. Again! Snape will for sure deduct some points from Gryffindor.”
Jihyo felt like ripping your head off. Of all the Gryffindors you were by far the most reckless one and usually involved when your house lost some points in one way or another. Your favorite activity was to prank Slytherins which always led to particularly hard punishments for your house by Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin. But you just didn’t seem to learn from your mistakes.
“You’re late too though...”
You smirked cheekily, causing her to get even angrier.
“Yeah but I have this opposing to you.”
With her right hand, she pulled out McGonagall’s letter that allowed her to be late for classes if her position as prefect required it and waved it in front of your face.
“That’s unfair.”
You pouted and Jihyo had to suppress her laughter. It was a little unfair indeed. She had simply overslept this morning, but as a prefect, she rarely got punished for anything. But she always told herself that she deserved those benefits. After all, she had to deal with you and your shenanigans almost every day.
“It’s not. I had some...important stuff to do this morning. And now go before we’re even later!”
She lied and you rolled your eyes before starting to run again.
Like expected, both of you arrived late to class and Snape gave you a lecture about the unreliability of Gryffindors for almost fifteen minutes. At the end, he took away some points from Gryffindor with a smug grin tugging on his lips, causing Jihyo to curse you silently. She was sure that Gryffindor had only lost the house cup championships to Slytherin because of you the past years. This year, she had to put a stop to it. Talking with you, however, wasn’t useful. The two of you were in your fifth year already and not once had you listened to her. She had to find another way to keep you in check. The only question was how... The options had thinned out over the years and it seemed like she was only left with one by now. Despite hating you with a passion though, that option seemed to be a little drastic and Jihyo had shied away from pursuing it until now. A fact that changed, however, when she walked into the Gryffindor common room that night.
“That was hilarious...”
“You should have seen Sejoo’s face.”
“I would have never dared to do that.”
Agitated chatter was filling the whole room and Jihyo immediately knew that something bad must have happened; something that most likely was connected with you in some way.
“What happened?”
Jihyo huffed while plopping down next to Jeongyeon on the couch.
“I don’t think you want to know...”
Her friend responded hesitantly and Jihyo buried her face in her hands in desperation.
“Y/N?”
She asked although she already knew the answer to her question.
“Yeah...Let’s just say the incident involved Y/N, Sejoo, the ‘Ossio Dispersimus’ spell and... a 200-points deduction for Gryffindor.”
Hearing the statement of Jeongyeon, Jihyo’s head snapped up and she looked at her classmate bewildered.
“200 POINTS???”
She yelled, causing the surrounding Gryffindors to look at her in shock. But Jihyo couldn’t care less about them. Enough was enough. You could be glad that you weren’t in the room right now, because she was sure that she would kill you if you were standing in front of her in this moment. You had once again ruined the championship for them with your selfishness and she was tired of it. You had to disappear. If you weren’t part of the student body anymore, Gryffindor couldn’t lose points because of you. And there was one easy way to reach that: she needed to get you suspended for the rest of the year and she already knew how.
If there was one person in this school that hated you more than she did, it was Snape. He had tried to get rid of you on several occasions, but your misdeeds had never been severe enough to make him reach his goal. But if she would help a little, she was sure that they could get you out of the way with joined forces. It was a risky scheme, but Jihyo was sure that she could come up with the perfect plan. For two weeks, she martyred her brain to find a way to set you up while protecting her own reputation simultaneously. Coincidentally and much to Jihyo’s chagrin, you didn’t get into any more trouble in those two weeks. On the contrary, you actually stood out for behaving extremely exemplary. You were the first one to appear in every class and the last one to leave because you offered your help to the teachers who often made you stay longer to clean up the classroom. You also didn’t roam around in the hallways anymore after curfew and didn’t even prank the Slytherins. In fact, there were now other Gryffindors that did more mischief than you.
Your good behavior didn’t manage to lift Jihyo’s mood though. If any, it made it worse. Now that she had finally decided to take action against you, you were playing innocent? Of course, her conscience was immediately telling her to stop her plan and to give you another chance. But her brain strongly opposed to that idea. Your good behavior wasn’t enough to erase all the trouble that you had caused the rest of the year. Therefore, she decided to follow through with her plan, even though her bad conscience heavily weighted down on her.
On the due date of her plan, Jihyo went to the library, tightly clasping a letter in her hand while nervously looking around. Being secretive definitely wasn’t her strong suit. As a prefect, she usually advocated honesty and compliance, so everything that she was doing right now went against her principles. She kept telling herself that it was for the good of Gryffindor, but the little voice in her head kept telling her that she was acting out of pure selfishness and it took all of Jihyo’s strength to muffle it. Arriving in the library, she scanned the students and soon found the perfect protagonists of her scheme. There were some first-year Slytherins roaming the aisles, apparently searching for some books to help them solve their Transfiguration homework. Their school supplies were scattered across a table next to one of the huge windows in the library and Jihyo approached it while skimming her letter one more time.
If you want to learn some curses that they don’t teach at school, come to the Forbidden Forest at midnight.
Sincerely,
Y/N L/N
Jihyo cringed at the primitivity of the letter, but she knew that it would work. Slytherins were overachievers with an affinity for illegal activities. They would be too intrigued by the offer to turn it down. After looking around one last time to make sure that no one was watching her, Jihyo dropped the letter on the table of the first years before scurrying off. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt like she was close to passing out. She didn’t know how anyone could enjoy going against the rules; she felt absolutely miserable right now. Not being able to be around people any longer, Jihyo wanted to rush off to her dormitory, but before she could leave the library, someone suddenly called her name.
“Jihyo!”
Jihyo didn’t need a second to realize who the voice belonged to and her body froze instantly. Had you caught her red-handed? For a split second, she considered running away, but before she had the chance to, she could already feel your hand on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she turned around with guilt reflecting in her eyes, ready to get yelled at by you.
“Um...I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to apologize to you.”
You mumbled sheepishly and Jihyo’s jaw dropped. That was definitely not what she had expected to hear from you.
“I know that I’m the reason for a lot of your worries and I also know that I took it too far with the incident with Sejoo two weeks back. I’m really sorry about that and I will try my best to make it up to you and the whole house. I’m proud to be a Gryffindor, so I want to make you guys proud in return too from now on.”
You continued while firmly looking into her eyes as if you wanted to convey the seriousness of your words by allowing her a glance into your soul. A glance that Jihyo didn’t want, because she could feel the complete sincerity of your apology and it made her actions even harder to bear. Why did you need to tell her all this now?
“Um...i-it’s a little late for regret now, don’t you think?”
Jihyo stuttered, trying to sound snappish, but her bad conscience forbade her to harm you even more. You didn’t seem to notice the lack of sharpness in her voice though. Instead, you looked like a beaten puppy who was painfully aware of their misdeeds.
“I know and I’m really sorry. I hope you know that this is nothing personal. I’m really grateful that you’re our prefect, no one would be better at this job than you. I’ve never meant to upset you with my actions.”
You smiled sadly, managing to break Jihyo’s heart. What had she done? You didn’t deserve to be suspended and she didn’t deserve your kind words. What person would set somebody up like this? She needed to get that letter back. Panicked, she looked over your shoulder to the table of the first years, but to her sorrow, the Slytherins were nowhere to be seen. They must have left the library already. Looking back at you, she could see that you were anxiously waiting for some kind of response and she would have loved nothing more than to give you the chance to explain yourself. Maybe the two of you had started off on the wrong foot right from the start. But there was no time to talk right now; she needed to get that letter back first.
“I need to go.”
Jihyo exclaimed breathlessly before running out of the library, leaving you behind with a confused expression on your face. Frantically, she ran down the corridor while scanning the passing people. Yellow, blue and red uniforms passed her by but not a single green one.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. FUCK! Where are those little brats??”
She cursed under her breath as she reached the stairs. She had no idea where the Slytherin common room was and even if she did follow another Slytherin student there, she would not know the passwords to enter. Desperately, Jihyo grasped her hair and turned around her own axis. What was she supposed to do now? The castle was too big to find the first years. Panicked, she walked up and down the corridor, trying to think of a way to prevent the fatal consequences of her plan from happening. Her only chance was to stop the first years from going to the Forbidden Forest tonight. If she could intercept the Slytherins on their way to the meeting point, they couldn’t get caught by a preofessor and the letter wouldn’t come into play. It was the only way to make this right.
Therefore, Jihyo reluctantly went to the Gryffindor common room where she waited on the couch in front of the chimney like on pins and needles. The hours passed painfully slow, but after a while one fellow student after the other left the common room to go to bed until Jihyo was the only one left. 11:45, the clock face read, causing her to jump off the couch and to stumble to the exit. Under no circumstances, she could let the first years slip through her fingers; she needed to stop them. Being allowed to roam the hallways after curfew as a prefect, Jihyo didn’t worry about running into any professors and headed straight to the entrance hall where she was just about to open the heavy double doors when they suddenly swung open without her help.
“Oh Ms. Park, I’m glad to meet you here. Look who I’ve found loitering outside.”
Mr. Filch croaked smugly while dragging two of the first years from the library by their robes.
Shit.
Jihyo tried to fake a smile, but on the inside she felt like dying. How was she supposed to change the course of these events now?
“What a lucky catch. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Filch. I can take them to their head of house.”
She tried to pull the first years to her side, but Mr. Filch tightly clasped their uniforms.
“It’s ok. I will accompany you. I want to propose some punishments.”
He giggled ugly before shoving the scared Slytherins forward. Reluctantly, Jihyo followed them to Professor Snape’s office while martyring her brain to find a solution for this hopeless situation. But there didn’t seem to be one. Before she knew it, Mr. Filch already knocked on the dark oak door to Snape’s office which swung open a second later to reveal the irritated-looking professor.
“What?”
He grumbled and Mr. Filch snickered silently.
“I’ve found two of your students outside. After curfew.”
Mr. Filch put exaggerated emphasis on his last sentence, causing Professor Snape to grunt angrily before motioning all of them to come inside. He looked at the two first years in disgust, making Jihyo wonder why he was the head of Slytherin in the first place.
“P-professor Snape, we can explain.”
One of the Slytherins stuttered anxiously before pulling out Jihyo’s letter from his robe, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She couldn’t just rip it out of the younger student’s hands and destroy it, right? That would be too suspicious. Instead, she had to watch how Snape took the letter and started reading it grimly before his face lit up suddenly.
“Y/N...”
He mumbled, looking happier than Jihyo had ever seen him before.
“Let’s pay Professor McGonagall a visit.”
Before anyone could disagree with him, Snape already scurried out of the room and the rest of them had to follow him wordlessly. Jihyo didn’t know who looked more miserable right now. The two first years or herself. All of them slouched their shoulders and regret was written all over their faces. Filch and Snape on the other hand resembled two Cheshire cats, especially after bolting into Professor McGonagall’s office.
“Y/N has endangered the lives of two first years. I plead for an immediate suspension.”
Professor Snape blurted out before giving the other professor the chance to process this ambush. Jihyo had never been more distressed in her life to have a plan of hers work out just like she had wanted it to.
“I beg your pardon?”
Professor McGonagall asked confused, causing Snape to snicker in amusement.
“These two students here have willfully been lured into a life-threatening situation by Y/N L/N, your student.”
He repeated himself while handing over Jihyo’s letter. Silently, the head of Gryffindor read the harmful words before sighing in desperation.
“That is a severe delinquency indeed...but I’m sure there must be an explanation for this.”
Professor McGonagall was quick to jump to your defense, causing Jihyo to draw hope that was destroyed a second later though when Snape scoffed dismissively.
“Yes, there is an explanation. Y/N L/N is a danger for this school, or have you forgotten about the incident with Sejoo only two weeks back? As a responsible head of house, I can’t tolerate such behavior.”
He narrowed his eyes and Professor McGonagall straightened up defensively.
“I haven’t forgotten about that, but if I may remind you, it was your student who used a slur about Ms. Park’s decent here that caused this whole incident.”
She bit back while pointing at Jihyo who flinched in surprise. What did Professor McGonagall mean by that?
An unsettling feeling started to form in Jihyo’s stomach, and she gulped thickly. What if everything wasn’t like it had seemed?
“That still doesn’t justify the endangerment of fellow students.”
Snape tried to distract from the misdeeds of his own student, leading to a stare down between the two heads of houses. The tension in the room increased with every second until the door of the office suddenly swung open. Inside came Filch accompanied by you, causing Jihyo’s eyes to widen. She hadn’t even noticed that the caretaker had left the room.
“I’ve taken the liberty to bring L/N in.”
He snickered before shoving you into the room.
You ended up standing next to Jihyo and looked at her nervously.
“W-what is this about?”
You stuttered, trying to sound relaxed although a slight trembling in your voice gave away that your heart had to be pounding in your chest.
“You have been caught red-handed. It’s over.”
Snape grinned while pointing at the letter in Professor McGonagall’s hand. Confused, you frowned, obviously not being able to know what he was talking about.
“Why would you lure them into the Forbidden Forest?”
The head of Gryffindor asked in disappointment and you looked at Jihyo for help.
“I did what?”
The confusion and fright in your voice was unmistakable and Jihyo hung her head in shame.
“Quit playing innocent Y/N. We have all the proof we need!”
Snape yelled causing you to flinch in shock. In reflex, Jihyo immediately grabbed your hand and you squeezed it tightly.
“You’re going down for this! You lured two first years into the Forbidden Forest. They could have died if Mr. Filch wouldn’t have found them in time. I will not let this go until you are suspended for the rest of the year.”
With every word more tears started to pool in your eyes and Jihyo couldn’t manage to avert her gaze from you. You looked so helpless right now and all she wanted to do was to save you from this horrible place.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I have never seen this letter before. Why would I Iure first years into the Forbidden Forest??”
Your voice cracked in desperation, but Snape just kept on accusing you aggressively. After all, you had a history of pranking Slytherins. Jihyo couldn’t imagine how wronged you had to feel right now, and she gently rubbed your hand with her thumb, not knowing whether she was trying to calm you or herself down by doing so. She knew that she could end all this by admitting that it had been her who had left the letter, but despite being a Gryffindor, she wasn’t brave enough to do that. How was she supposed to explain it? How would she be supposed to ever look into your eyes again?
“That’s enough. We’ve understood your point, Professor.”
Professor McGonagall eventually ended Snape’s rant before looking at you with a sad face.
“I see how this incident is out of character for you, Y/N. Nevertheless, I have to agree with Professor Snape, the evidence is overwhelming. Therefore...you are hereby suspended until we can prove your innocence.”
Your jaw dropped, hearing these words from the head of Gryffindor and you looked at Jihyo as if she was your last hope. But she wasn’t strong enough to save you. Instead, she flung her arms around your neck and pulled you against her body.
“I’m so sorry.”
She sobbed, not being able to hold back her own tears anymore. Suddenly, however, she could feel how you started to stroke her back soothingly.
“Hey, it’s ok. This is not your fault.”
You tried to calm her, apparently not suspecting her betrayal in the slightest.
“Y/N, let’s go to your dormitory to get your belongings.”
Professor McGonagall asked you and you pulled away. With a light smile tugging on your lips, you reached out and gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down Jihyo’s cheeks.
“Don’t be sad, your job is actually going to be a lot easier from now on. Although I really would have loved to celebrate our victory in the championship together at the end of the year.”
You chuckled sadly to cheer her up before trying to turn around to leave but Jihyo held on to you and crashed you into her body again. She couldn’t bear to see you cheering her up any longer. Not after what she had done.
“It was me. I wrote the letter.”
She whispered into your ear while new tears streamed down her cheeks.
In disbelief, you separated your bodies and stared at her with betrayal written all over your face, causing her to avert her gaze. Her guilt was squeezing all air out of her lungs and she waited impatiently for you to expose her. This charade was unbearable.
“And here I was thinking that you were starting to like me back... What a foolish thought.”
You chuckled, causing Jihyo’s head to snap up. Slowly, you started to back away from her while grabbing your forehead in disbelief and Jihyo shakily reached out for you.
“Y/N...”
The words in Jihyo’s mind were all jumbled and the only thing she could utter was your name. Why weren’t you yelling at her? Why weren’t you standing up for your innocence? Your calmness and the disappointed look in your face was slowly killing her. She needed you to punish her for her betrayal, but you didn’t show the slightest inclination to do so.
“No, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”
You mumbled, still seeming to be dazed due to her confession.
“Y/N, what are you doing? You should expose me...”
Jihyo shook your shoulder lightly, but you only smiled at her.
“Yeah you’re probably right. But I won’t. I could never hurt you like that.”
You shrugged while trying to remove her hand from her shoulder but Jihyo only tightened her grasp.
“What are you talking about, Y/N?”
She furrowed her brow in confusion although the blurry picture in her head was slowly starting to get clearer, revealing a truth that she would have preferred to keep ignoring.
“I genuinely hope that you’re happy now, Jihyo. That’s all I ever wanted. You should look out for Sejoo and his gang though. They don’t like to see a muggle-born in such a powerful position and I don’t know what they will do now that I’m not going to be there anymore.”
With that, you removed her hand from your shoulder and walked up to Professor McGonagall who looked at you apologetically before giving you a sign to leave the room. One last time, you turned around and nothing hurt Jihyo more than to see that the sadness in your eyes still couldn’t manage to erase the affection that reflected in them. She had been so blind all this time...
Who would have thought that she had been the selfish one all along?
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amberwild420 · 3 years
Text
one step back, two steps forward (pt. 1)
Masterlist
Paris, the city of love
 Since the return of Lila the liar, Marinette has been feeling the downhill ride of the life at its fullest. Sure she threatened her to take away her friends and to make her life as miserable as possible but Marinette knew that there is no way that her friends who had known her longer can believe such ridiculous lies.
  Well…….that’s what she thought.
  She overestimated her friends or rather her ex-friends.
  They not only left her behind, but she also become a bully, thief, a cheater and an overall bad person.
  Like what?
 Now not only is she alone sitting in the last but she has to be bullied and humiliated because apparently she is bullying and making fun of the sweet innocent Lila.
  Like what?
  And Adrien. Oh sweet naïve Adrian just let her keep quiet. He said he had her back but when she realized how coward and spineless he was, her crush on him was gone like wind. And to add insult to injury, she may or may not have accidently found out that he was also chat noir.
  Like what?
  And not to forget miss bustier. Oh sweet miss bustier, she seriously need to take lessons on how to deal with bullies or she should choose a better profession. Because if she preached about setting a good example one more time she will do something that future Marinette would  regret.
  And Alya her supposed best friend just left her as soon as her blog rating went up because of a certain liar. Well and that she has always been brash but became quite temperamental after Lila trapped her in her web of lies. She tried, he really tried but she had no chance. Nino and Kim who knew her from childhood took the word from a liar. And max. Oh the smart max who made an AI with emotions had believed that a napkin can gouge his eyes out even when he was wearing glasses.
  Like what?!
  Thankfully she didn’t had to deal with Chloe these days. Well she was rather quieter these days. Not talking or taunting to anyone. Well a good thing that came from all this. She didn’t think she could actually bear two ways trouble right now.
  She had to deal with the akuma at 4 am and chat was nowhere as always. But she was thankful that he didn’t came. It was not like he was being helpful anyway.
 Miss bustier was late and Lila was spinning another tale of her adventure. She wanted to tune out the chatter but the door opened and miss bustier walked in with a girl. She was wearing a pink crop top with blue jeans and white sneakers.
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Pale skin, long black hair that framed her face and yellow green eyes that looked at them with such an intensity that Marinette felt her hand twitching towards her sketchpad. She had so many ideas all of the sudden, she need to jolt it down.
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Class meet Kaylan. She will be joining us for the rest of the year. Make her feel welcomed.
Irritating and incompetent.
The only words that echoed her mind when she met her teacher. Caline Bustier has no control over class. Like how the hell she can tame students with this idealistic temperament. Kayla knew she was right when she entered the class. When her teacher turned to her expectedly, she decided to be polite and introduced herself.
My name is Kaylan fox. I moved from New York City recently. It’s nice to meet you. 
It was just then a girl with sausage hair talking loudly.
Oh New York! It reminds me when I met Tylor swift last summer. She even gave me her new album with her autograph because she felt I deserve it when I accidently gave her the idea for her song.
 Is she serious? That is just an outrageous claim. There’s no way anyone would believe that.
 That’s so cool Lila.
 Yeah! You have to give me all the deeds.
 I wish I could meet her one time.
 The hell? They actually believed that?!
 Are you kidding? You’re actually believing that?
 She couldn’t help but speak up. There is no way like no way anyone even the most stupid person could believe that.
 The girl with sausage then suddenly burst into tears.
 Why do you say that? Are you that jealous?
Excuse moi?
 The effect was immediate. The class apart from the girl in the pig tails started consoling the girl.
 How could you be so mean?
 You made Lila cry.
 You’re so horrible like that Mari trash.
 Kaylan felt her eye twitching. Like what is actually going on? Did she cross the time space and came to a new universe that had people stupider than her expected level?
She looked at the teacher but was even more surprised when she was giving a look to the girl in the pigtails that said “stop them”.
 So incompetent. So fucking incompetent!
The class glared at the new girl who dare to talk but shivered at her bone chilling return glare. Like hell she would let some brats push her around. She trained, tired herself to bones to be stronger than that scum, there is no way she can let some skinny kids take her down.
I actually don’t care about what people are talking about but I do care when they name drop the celebrities.
The silence broke when a dark skinned girl with glasses stood up showing her fiery temper.
 How can you be so sure? Where is your proof?
 Raising her eyebrow, Kaylan pulled her phone from the pocket and typed. Then she started reading out loud.
(it’s a fake news, I just winged it myself so no need to correct it. it’s fanfiction.)
Tylor Swift seen in Hawaii this summer. Many fans have been theorizing she may be here for her new album. But the claims haven’t stand corrected still since then haven’t seen anyone from our usual cast. It seems like that Tylor is on a vacation. Sorry fans.’
And this is the news article from the last year summer. You were saying.
  She deadpanned at the girls who looked lost.
The sausage haired girl looked livid. With a cold smirk she leaned into the sausage haired girl.
 Hon. You’re so fake that even china would deny they ever made you. But to have some people follow you, I’ll give that much of a credit.
 Saying so she made her way to the last where the girl with pig tails was sitting. On the bench beside was a blond who looked at her from the corner of the eye but looked forward when miss bustier started her lesson, a bit flustered.
 Hi! I’m Marinette. Class representative.
Kaylan.
  I must say that was nice. You know, to see that someone can actually look through her lies.
 You know she was lying and didn’t tell them?
 Before she could stop, words pour out of her mouth. Marinette winced, so did she.
 Sorry, that came out rude.
 No it’s not a problem. They just don’t believe me at all.
 I can see why.
  Before they could talk anymore, miss Bustier interrupted them.
Kaylan, please focus in the class.
 I do have my focus in the class. But it seems like you don’t, considering that the sausage hair and  miss tabloid is still talking rather loudly and you just pointed me out instead.
A certain glint passed her eyes before a smirk made her way to her lips. The expression on her face made several people shiver.
 We don’t want some extra nasty rumor spreading in the school about what happens in the class. Now do we.
  The way Kaylan said that made many people shiver.
Marinette sighed in relief. she suddenly felt like having a safety amulet. 
Marinette felt badly for thinking like this but from the time her friends had left her she felt unsafe all the time. So this was a good feeling.
maybe she should treat her with best pastries. she really had a good feeling about today.
Its definitely a good day.
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Good Help - chapter 3 - ao3 link
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Everyone was required to come to the Nightless City to pay homage to the Emperor, no matter their status, and any number of sects had chosen to pay another visit during the Emperor’s absence – whether in search of profit or merely credit for fulfilling their duties, preferably without the risk of incurring their volatile Emperor’s attention.
One of those sects was Lanling Jin.
Meng Yao felt both disappointment and relief when he learned that Jin Guangshan would not be coming himself, declining on the grounds that it was just too miserable to go without his good friend the Emperor there, though it was far more likely that he didn’t want to have to acknowledge the presence of Meng Yao, standing there in the Emperor’s place. Instead, his father sent his one legitimate son and heir, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Zixuan brought his wives.
The rumors of friendship between Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan were exaggerated for effect, in Meng Yao’s opinion, but there must be some basis to it. Otherwise, there was no way Jin Zixuan would have been allowed to hold such a treasure in his hands: he had married the last survivors of the Jiang clan, Jiang Yanli and her younger brother Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Yanli, at least, was considered a prize, given that she brought with her the bloodline and legitimacy of a former Great Sect and had at least a technical claim to a frankly eye-popping dowry, should the Emperor ever decide to allow her to reclaim the ownership of the Lotus Pier, even if in practice the place had been rapidly converted into a pleasure palace by his second son.
Jin Zixuan had managed to win that race, having had the advantage of being already engaged to Jiang Yanli since birth, his mother having apparently been friends with the former Madame Jiang, known better as Madame Yu. Given Jin Zixuan’s character – not known to be especially good at either politics or finance – Meng Yao was of the belief, as were many people, that he had only taken Jiang Cheng as a bride in order to please his wife by saving the life of her younger brother after the Jiang sect was destroyed, since Jiang Cheng, the son of a fallen clan, represented little more than a gigantic target on the back of anyone who might claim him.
Of course, rather than admit it, Jin Zixuan denied all such rumors and maintained consistently that he had been in love with both of them, desperately, and that had been the reason he’d petitioned for the right of marriage.
(Meng Yao also heard rumors that Wen Ruohan had found his insistence funny and agreed to the match on the condition that their marriage bed be witnessed, which sounded very much in line with what he knew of Wen Ruohan’s character – he would have enjoyed forcing them to consummate their fake marriage, luxuriated in their humiliation, and laughed when they failed to look each other in the eye later. Still, what wasn’t worth doing to preserve a life?)
At any rate, regardless of anything else, Jin Zixuan was still the Emperor’s subject, and therefore he had to come pay homage the same as anyone else. Meng Yao’s brother by blood (although frustratingly not by law) had trouble looking directly at Meng Yao during the ceremony, but he managed to conduct the ritual of swearing loyalty moderately well regardless, with no indications of disrespect and perfect etiquette. It was only after, when Meng Yao had maliciously invited him to share a cup of tea to extend the duration of the awkwardness, that something broke – and it wasn’t Jin Zixuan at all.
“Is it true?” Jiang Cheng asked abruptly, the first words he’d said in this visit, and Meng Yao turned to look at him even as Jin Zixuan’s face turned pale. “That the Emperor started fucking Huaisang?”
Huaisang, Meng Yao thought, rolling the name around in his mouth – was A-Sang originally a Jiang, then?
But no, if he was, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have that look of desperation on his face, of longing and despair; whoever this Huaisang had been in his previous life, before he’d become an Imperial Consort, he’d been someone that Jiang Cheng had been close to. Maybe someone he had even lost his heart to.
Interesting.
Or, well – interesting, but ultimately irrelevant.
“I have no insight into the Emperor’s personal affairs,” Meng Yao said, calm and placid as ever. “Especially while he is far away on a long voyage.”
Jiang Cheng scowled at him, but his sister put her hand on his shoulder and he subsided, still looking upset.
Meng Yao decided to show pity as a stratagem to put Jin Zixuan into his debt, and said, affecting a tone of mild sympathy, “I have no reason to think that he is based on his conduct before leaving, and I understand that his travels were motivated by a search for a spiritual item capable of improving cultivation. It may be that he took Imperial Consort A-Sang with him on account of the Consort’s reputed scholarly achievements.”
To the extent A-Sang had any scholarly achievements other than carting around a scholar’s fan, anyway.
Jiang Cheng still scowled, but his shoulders relaxed a little, and Jiang Yanli sent Meng Yao a grateful look.
Jin Zixuan seemed only a little moved, picking up his tea cup and continuing the former conversation without a hitch, but when everything was done he unexpectedly reached out and caught Meng Yao’s arm.
Meng Yao tensed, but Jin Zixuan took no movement against him, only looked at him. “It was an unexpected pleasure to meet you,” he said, nothing he couldn’t have said without touching, but then his hand shifted and Meng Yao felt the prickle of paper beneath his palm.
Meng Yao put a smile on his face and said some pleasantries, and as soon as Jin Zixuan left he looked at the note he’d been smuggled.
You are being targeted, it said, which – was rather unhelpful, actually.
“He couldn’t have included more details of who, what, or when?” Meng Yao complained to A-Jue later, making sure to look piteous out of habit even though he knew A-Jue didn’t believe him at all. Or at least, he shouldn’t by this point, or else Meng Yao’s lessons on how to detect a liar were all going to waste. “I don’t know if it’s because it’s me that he didn’t want to commit to saying too much, there is that awkwardness there, but it’s not like I don’t know people are trying to kill me. I’m the Emperor’s viceroy! I’ve been making changes left and right in his absence, some of them extremely unpopular –”
And yet others that were extremely popular. He’d known the Watchtower idea would win him acclaim among the common people, and that even if the smaller sects complained about the encroachment at first they would soon – or at least, eventually – realize that it was in their own best interest.
“ – and really. He left a note! Why be ominous and vague in a note?”
“Perhaps he meant something more general,” A-Jue said.
Meng Yao looked at him, and A-Jue shrugged, averting his eyes. The action – so obviously indicating that he had something to say and wasn’t saying it for whatever reason – should have irritated Meng Yao, but by now he’d grown to find A-Jue’s thorough inability to dissemble directly rather adorable. Such a big man, older than Meng Yao, and he still blushed when he tried to lie to your face.
“You can go on,” Meng Yao coaxed. “I’m not going to be angry.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m five.”
“Who’s a big boy who knows something he’s not saying? You are, yes, you are!”
A-Jue tried to look disapproving but ended up having to hide his sniggering into his sleeve. “That’s more like you’d treat a dog, viceroy Meng. Not that you’d know, given how much you hate them.”
“I don’t hate dogs,” Meng Yao said. “I gave Jin Zixuan’s eldest a spiritual dog just last year, a husky. It’s gigantic man-eaters I object to.”
“Northern mountain dogs are a bit large,” A-Jue conceded, a little reluctantly, but in fairness at his size the mountain dogs were probably proportional in size to regular dogs. Actually, A-Jue’s accent, however blurred by time and assimilation, suggested he was from somewhere to north of the Nightless City – maybe he’d drunk the same water as the dogs growing up, explaining how he reached his current heights. “And aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you only keep things from people that they don’t need to know?”
“I like being the person to decide who needs to know what,” Meng Yao said. “Now, you clearly want to tell me, so tell me already.”
A-Jue sighed. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the job is supposed to kill you?”
Meng Yao frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the Emperor’s viceroy,” A-Jue said. “He appointed you, and then he immediately left you alone to more or less run the entirety of his domain – he gave you the power of authority, to speak with his voice. That’s a pretty big promotion from chief torturer, wouldn’t you say?”
Meng Yao would not describe being the deputy in charge of the Fire Palace as ‘chief torturer’ – prisons required a great deal of management, he wasn’t just torturing people anymore – but he couldn’t exactly say that A-Jue was wrong.
He’d enjoyed his success, but he’d been startled by it, too. He’d had to fight and scheme for every last thing that he’d ever wanted, before this, and while he’d had to do more than a bit of tussling to keep this role over the overtures of the other deputies, it did sometimes feel as though this promotion came a little too easily, too suddenly.
“What do you think, then?” he asked, folding his hands together under his sleeves so no one could see how his nails dug into his flesh. If there was one thing he truly hated, it was the scorn of others, of those who thought they were better than him.
Being schemed against was a very close second.
“Some of your policies are in fact very unpopular,” A-Jue said. “Even though we both know that they’re necessary…the Emperor would know that they were necessary, too.”
“You think he wants me as what? A scapegoat?”
Wen Ruohan didn’t pay attention to things like popularity, officially taking the position that strength was all that mattered, and yet only a fool ignored such things entirely, and Wen Ruohan was no fool.
“The Emperor is friends with Jin Guangshan,” A-Jue said quietly. “Not merely for show, and although Jin Guangshan does exaggerate it somewhat, it’s not as much as people think. Before he became Emperor, back when they were peers, they would often spend time together, do things together…and your existence offends Jin Guangshan. People laugh at him for not having accepted you back then.”
That was as Meng Yao wanted. He’d wanted to rub into his father’s face how stupid he’d been – and Jin Guangshan had done nothing, had just taken it, and in retrospect that seemed rather uncharacteristic of someone of his reputation.
“So, what?” he asked, ignoring the blood on his nails from where his flesh could no longer take the pressure. “You think he’s pressing the Emperor to have me executed for failing to live up to his expectations?”
“Maybe,” A-Jue said. “And perhaps the Emperor has incentivized others to try to make you fail.”
Having people try to kill a stand-in would be a very effective way to see how those same people would try to kill you. It wasn’t a bad plan, not really, but Meng Yao really didn’t appreciate it when it was aimed at him.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Meng Yao said. “I will not fail. I will succeed, and so thoroughly that even the Emperor will be unable to deny my success – he enjoys being thought of as someone who rewards merit, and killing me would just be seen as petty. He won’t do it. I have my brain, my talent, my competence – I won’t let him.”
Assuming, of course, that he survived until Wen Ruohan’s return.
“You have me, too,” A-Jue said.
It was a nice sentiment, Meng Yao thought, and patted A-Jue on the shoulder, and A-Jue didn’t even flinch this time. He didn’t expect that A-Jue really meant it, of course – A-Jue was a guard of the inner hall, and to get that sort of position he had to be loyal to Wen Ruohan first and foremost – but it was nice of him to say it regardless.
Meng Yao wondered, briefly, if now was a good time to let his hand linger on A-Jue’s shoulder, to turn the contact into a caress. He didn’t think he’d even need to order A-Jue to his bed at this point, although he’d be more than willing to do so if A-Jue liked things like that – he was moderately sure that A-Jue sincerely liked him, and that there was more to that liking than mere friendliness or even the stirrings of loyalty. If he asked, or even just indicated interest, A-Jue would probably come to him entirely of his own volition.
And yet…
Meng Yao removed his hand, turning the conversation forcefully to some other subject, much to A-Jue’s evident relief. He was too busy, he told himself. There was no time to spend on dalliances.
And anyway –
He’d had his fill of sharing with Wen Ruohan.
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