#the overly honest all-cards-on-the-table thing is some good shit
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holiday insanity asks (now I've got Virtual Insanity stuck in my head :'D )
what are your thoughts on chess? are you any good?
what about american football - does it tickle your fancy?
when brushing your teeth, do you start with the top row or the bottom row?
carrots: are there any meals they elevate for you, or do they just fill out the roster?
have you ever hugged someone and wanted to never let go?
thoughts on paper? (be it paper-so-thick-it's-almost-card, glossy paper, old-book-paper, freshly-opened-ream-of-printer-paper, tissue paper, fancy-notebook-paper). Have you ever used special paper as part of a specialist role like idk what paper architects use to draw out building diagrams on but I feel like that stuff's gotta be pretty fancy
do you especially like candles?
are there any interactions with birds you especially appreciate, either recently or when you were younger?
any resolutions for 2024?
have you noticed how the clouds at night seem to be lighter than the sky on one side, and darker than the sky on the other side? like a criss-crossing of two gradients.
secret handshakes - are they all their cracked up to be?
when was the last time you smelt the smell of lavender?
do you have a cooking oil of choice?
[ID:
Jonathan Frakes on the set of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction, looking into the camera inquisitively, while sat at a table full of household objects. The dark and vaguely gothic set behind him is washed out by bright floor lights pointing up at the camera.
/end ID]
started typing a buncha questions & then it started to feel like Jonathan Frakes Asks You Things so I reformatted some of the early questions :D feel free to ignore as many as you like - including all of them if you feel so inclined - hope you have a restful next few days <3
i can always count on you to send asks lol <3
thoughts on chess? hey it's fun, it's a cool game, but holy shit there are some overly competitive people out there. i love creative chess set designs tho.
american football? let me be clear: i grew up in the american south - american football was all anyone talked about. do i understand any of it? no. do i enjoy it? also no. will i take any opportunity to get free food? yes, and so i ended up going to a lot of superbowl parties. i don't like the sport however.
brushing teeth? i actually got up and went to brush my teeth so i could answer this question. turns out i start on the bottom left.
carrots? okay i gotta be honest i have a hard time getting behind the texture of carrots. i think it's because of that thing where a the force to bite through a carrot is similar to how much you need to bite through a finger? anyway the only thing i can really eat them in is something where they match the shape of the food around them (like long strips of them in soba noodles or shavings of them in rice are two things i can get behind)
have you ever hugged someone and never wanted to let go? literally any time anyone genuinely hugs me. (not those silly family greeting hugs - i hate those). but like if someone gives me a hug goodbye, or just out of affection, i physically have to be removed from the hug because i wont let go on my own. (im so goddamn touch starved but we're not gonna talk about it)
paper? christ dude i fucking cherish paper. it's such a mentally ill english major thing to say, but i love the texture of rough paper. i've never used special paper for anything (aside from maybe fancy paper in art class) but i absolutely love homemade paper. it's got such Texture and it's so nice to smell and touch and write in. any paper that isn't perfectly smooth, or has texture is so so good imo
candles? i love candles!! fire is so rad, and i love to use smells as a sensory transition from one project/task to the next. candles, diffusers, gum, and cooking are some of my personal favourite ways to do that.
birds? one of my only memories from when i was younger was talking to a bird outside my window. i just imitated it and it would respond, and this happened all the time. i love birds (as long as they aren't big. fuck that one bird in particular at the zoo) also i fucking love crows.
2024 resolutions? i want to find people to care for. (heads up: deep personal shit) i'm finally in a position socially where im able to be authentic and caring with myself, and now i can turn that care outwards. i've spent the last ~4 years extremely closed off, and im around new people now and want to change that. i don't know if this goal will manifest in a romantic relationship or just deep friendships, but i want to take care of people and make them feel loved in a way i never had.
clouds? YES. dont even get me started on clouds, i love them so much and i find this fascinating.
secret handshakes? i feel like a major part of the handshake is that you show it off to other people, and therefore it's not really secret. i've had my fair share though, so i can't hate on them too much.
last time you smelled lavender? literally right now. like i said, very smell-sensory-oriented, and i have a candle burning right now that has lavender in it.
do you have a cooking oil of choice? i don't use a lot of things that require oil as a major ingredient specifically, so if i just need to have something in the pan i'll actually try to use butter if the food is okay with that. otherwise, i'll kind of just use whatever i have.
#you've always got the best questions i swear#tysm <3#literally i so bad needed the distraction#holidays are wild atm#ask#asks
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Mistakes? Well, let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you're doing all kinds of crazy. Those aren't mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!
8x06 - Southern Comfort
#mmm i do love me some supernaturally induced brother conflict tho#remember the siren? and the asylum ghost in s1?#the overly honest all-cards-on-the-table thing is some good shit#spnedit#Sam Winchester#Dean Winchester#Supernatural#gif: dean#gif: sam#gif: spn#foxgifs#one post per episode#spn 8.06#s08#adam glass#sam and dean#brother conflict
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—lost stars, part 2 (m.)
⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader
⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers
⟶ word count: 20k
⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.
⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.
✔ read part one here!
a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!
Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.
Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.
He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.
“What do you suggest we should do then?”
The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.
He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.
Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass.
“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”
“What do you think, Jungkook?”
It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.
It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.
Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck.
He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”
Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.
Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.
“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.
Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.
Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.
“Does it really matter?”
Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.
“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”
He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.
“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”
Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.
Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.
“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.
“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.
Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”
“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”
“Deal.”
Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.
You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.
In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.
He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.
“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.
Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.
He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.
Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.
He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.
“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.
Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”
If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.
Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.
You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.
He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.
You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.
It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.
From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.
Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.
It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.
And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.
Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.
Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.
You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).
Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.
Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.
“Need some help?”
Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”
You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.
“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.
“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”
“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.
To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”
Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”
His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.
“Are you okay?”
For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.
You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.
They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.
It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.
Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.
A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up.
[1:23pm] jungkook:
i need you
It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.
[1:24pm] jungkook:
please
He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.
He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.
He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.
“Hello, doll.”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.
It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.
It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.
But you accept your fate the way it is.
“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.
Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.
You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.
You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.
“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.
“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”
Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”
There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.
“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.
Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”
‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”
“I know. He told me about you.”
Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.
“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”
You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”
It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.
It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.
The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.
Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.
Jungkook.
Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.
Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.
You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?
Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.
“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”
At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.
Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”
“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.
“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”
You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.
“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.
“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.
You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”
“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”
Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.
“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”
You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.
The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”
You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”
He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.
“You can get a driving license then finally.”
You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”
Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.
“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”
Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.
“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.
You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.
“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”
Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”
It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back. “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.
“And what is that?”
“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”
Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.
The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”
“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”
“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.
Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.
“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.
“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.
He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.
A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.
Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.
Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.
You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.
You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.
Three missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:11pm] jungkook:
I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice
Please call me back. I’m worried
Two missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:36pm] jungkook:
At least text me if you’re okay
Please
[11:39pm] me:
I’m fine
[11:39pm] jungkook:
Thank God
You sure you don’t wanna talk?
[11:41pm] me:
Maybe next time
[11:41pm] jungkook:
Okay
Night, miss grumpy
You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.
Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.
[10:45am] jungkook:
Do you have time now?
I need to tell you sth
It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was.
With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response.
[10:46am] me:
I guess
[10:46am] jungkook:
Great. I’m gonna call you now
Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.
“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”
“You called me to ask how am I doing?”
Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.
“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”
“Should I be scared?”
”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”
You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”
“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”
You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.
It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.
Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”
Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.
“Okay. I agree.”
Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”
“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”
You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.
Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.
“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”
That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.
When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.
Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.
“What’s that for?” you mumble.
“Just missed you.”
He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.
It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.
You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.
He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”
You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.
He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”
Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”
“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.
He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”
“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”
You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.
Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers.
The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.
“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.
“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.
“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”
You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”
That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.
You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.
You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”
“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.
You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”
“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”
“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.
Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”
“Taehyung.”
Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”
“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.
“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.
“Is somebody jealous?”
Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”
Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.
No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.
Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.
Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.
“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.
He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”
You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.
Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides behind the horizon.
“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”
“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”
You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”
Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.
Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”
Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.
“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.
“What is it?”
“You’re invited to a party.”
“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.
‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.
Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?”
Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”
You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.
The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.
(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)
But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.
“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.
“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.
“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.
He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”
The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.
You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.
But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.
You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.
Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)
After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.
You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.
Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.
(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)
“What are you thinking about?”
You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.
“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”
Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”
“Oppa?”
You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.
Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”
Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.
“Oh, I will be over the moon.”
“Good.”
“Amazing, even.”
You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.
You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features.
It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.
You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.
There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.
It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.
You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.
It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.
And then, you looked up and saw him.
A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.
You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.
“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.
Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.
When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.
You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.
“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”
“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.
“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.
Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.
And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.
You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.
Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.
You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.
The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.
And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.
“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.
Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”
You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”
He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.
She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”
She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.
“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”
At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.
Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.
“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.
Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.
The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.
‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.
From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.
(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)
“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.
Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.
It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.
When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.
It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.
It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.
Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.
It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life.
When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.
Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.
He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.
This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.
“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.
It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.
“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”
You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”
Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.
You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”
Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.
From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”
Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”
Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.
Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.
You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.
It’s Jungkook who speaks first.
“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”
“I do.” you whisper truthfully.
He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”
You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.
There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.
But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.
The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.
He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.
The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.
“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.
“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.
Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.
Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.
“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”
Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.
“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.
“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.
“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.
Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.
“Tell me about it.”
She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.
Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.
Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.
“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”
Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.
As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.
And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.
You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.
“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.
For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.
“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.
“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.
Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.
“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.
You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.
“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.
Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”
“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.
Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.
“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.
Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”
“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.
Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”
You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.
“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”
Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.
That your little infatuation had a sequel.
Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”
Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.
“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”
“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”
Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”
The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.
Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.
What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls. You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.
“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”
To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.
Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”
Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.
But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?
The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away.
Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.
By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.
Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.
Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.
“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”
Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.
Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.
And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.
“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.
“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.
“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.
Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.
“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”
“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”
You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”
Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”
You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”
“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”
Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.
(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)
You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.
“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.
Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”
Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.
“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”
Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.
“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.
Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.
Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.
“Want to get out of here for a while?”
Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.
“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”
“But–”
He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.
Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”
“Ladies first.”
“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”
You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.
“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.
You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”
He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”
“Exactly!”
You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.
“So you did get rid of him after all.”
Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.
Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”
“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”
Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.
Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.
“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.
“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”
It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.
Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.
It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”
You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.
“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”
You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”
It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.
“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.
It’s longing.
“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.
“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”
He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”
He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.
“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”
And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.
And you need to hear him say it.
“Promise?”
Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.
For now, it has to be enough.
Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.
But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.
“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”
“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”
He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”
Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”
Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”
You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”
He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.
You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.
“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.
He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.
There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes.
Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.
You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.
“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.
Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”
“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.
Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.
“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.
He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing. You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”
‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.
He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening.
“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.
“So good,” you mewl.
“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.
“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”
“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.
His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.
“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”
He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”
Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.
Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.
He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.
You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.
“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.
Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.
You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”
He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh.
‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.
“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”
“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”
He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.
It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).
He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,” You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”
Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”
“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”
You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.
You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.
He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.
“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.
Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss.
He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”
Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”
By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.
When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”
Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.
Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.
“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.
You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.
“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.
“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”
“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.
You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”
He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.
“Always.”
You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.
[4 months later]
“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”
You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.
The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.
Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.
The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.
He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.
You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.
[5:55pm] jungkook:
We’re departing in 20 minutes
I’m missing you already so much:(
You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.
[6:01pm] me:
Miss u too!!
And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.
The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.
You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.
However long it takes.
#jungkook smut#btswritingcafe#ksmutclub#bangtanarmynet#smutcentralnet#maknaesmutsociety#bangtanhq#btsbookclub#btswriterscollective#jungkook angst#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#my writing#lost stars
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“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″
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"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters
Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings
Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire
Rise up even higher
So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"
Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"
Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.
The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.
The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.
It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.
Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.
The boy was bad.
Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?
Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.
"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.
"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.
Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.
"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"
"Erik? No, I don't believe so."
"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."
Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.
"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.
"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."
"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."
Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.
"I liked how you closed out your set."
"People liked it, yeah?"
"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."
Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.
"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."
Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.
Erik ran up to her breathless.
"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"
Disa patted his arm.
"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"
She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.
"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.
Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.
"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.
"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"
Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.
Disa held out a trembling hand to him.
"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.
Disa burst into tears.
"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.
Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.
She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.
"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.
"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."
A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.
"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."
Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.
"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.
"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."
Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.
"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"
The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.
"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.
Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.
Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.
Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.
Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.
"Damn, what was that for?" he said.
"Being here," she said.
He wiped his lips and smiled.
"Erik…"
Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.
###
Her night was a dreamy success.
Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand.
"Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.
He took the drink from her and sipped it down.
"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"
She snatched it away from his lips.
"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.
"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"
"Yep."
"Happy Birthday, Erik!"
She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.
"Enjoy," she said.
"What room are we in?" Jace asked.
Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.
"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.
Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.
"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.
"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."
"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."
"Good to know."
"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."
"Glad to make your dream come true."
His eyes penetrated hers.
"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.
"You're drunk," he teased.
"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.
Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.
Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.
"Is Erik up?" she asked.
Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.
"You were so good," he yelped.
"Thank you… um… Erik?"
"He's not here."
"Not here? Did he go out?"
"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.
"Thanks," she said.
Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.
"Hey," she said.
"Um… Hi. 'sup?"
"Birthday drink. A proper one."
She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.
"I can't come in?"
"I have someone here," he said.
Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.
"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.
Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.
"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"
She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.
"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"
"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."
She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.
"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."
"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."
"How many?"
"Fifteen—"
"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."
"The cost alone will be crazy—"
"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"
Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.
"I love your Confit de Canard,"
"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."
"It's gonna be hella expensive."
"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."
His eyes lit up.
"I'll let my people know."
"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."
Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.
"Thank you," he said.
"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."
She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.
###
Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.
"What did she want?"
"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.
He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.
"Why is your dick like that already?"
Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.
"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.
Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.
"You're attracted to her."
"Disa? That's my homegirl—"
"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."
Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.
"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"
"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."
He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.
"Wanna play rough?" he said.
"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"
"What?"
"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"
"No. She fine as fuck though."
"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"
There was disgust on her face.
Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.
"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"
"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."
"That ass was amazing."
"I can't believe you're serious!"
"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."
"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."
"Like what?"
"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"
"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."
Chloe stared down at her hands.
"I'm glad to hear that, actually."
"Yeah? Why?"
Her eyes welled up.
"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."
"Guys like me?"
"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."
Her eyes met his.
"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."
"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."
She slapped his hand and smiled.
"But you do like Disa. Right?"
"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"
"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."
He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.
Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.
###
The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.
He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.
"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."
Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.
Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.
He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.
"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.
She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.
"These are my father's journals," he whispered.
Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.
"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice
Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.
His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.
His family birthright.
Now his.
Chapter 10 HERE
###
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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First#Volume 3#Killmonger Fanfiction#Killmonger Fanfic#Black Panther Fanfiction#Uzumaki Rebellion#N'Jobu
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the matsunos reaction to knowing their s/o have a kid and meeting them?
YES PLS
Also if u want I can do hcs for these specific kids and the matsus bc god . I have ideas
Gender neutral reader
“Wait.. you have a kid?! How?!” Osomatsu asks, bewildered. How hasn’t he known about this? Why hasn’t he met the kid yet? He’s a bit disappointed at first, not that he hates kids he just.. it means there’s another parent in the equation right? So he kinda asks you about that whole thing, are they just dead? Or like were they a dick? Or? Is your kid just adopted?
However, he’s very excited to meet your kid! He wishes you told him about your little girl sooner. He’s not worried he’ll mess up at all, (he probably should be). He doesn’t even ask any questions, he just wants to meet the kid.
You were a bit worried.. and for good reason. Your daughter didn’t exactly .. like people. She was anti social. Besides.. things had been kinda difficult for the both of you upon having to take care of her on her own. She’s been waiting for you to introduce her to Osomatsu, the man you’ve been dating for months now.
Your daughter tended to be a bit judgmental, especially when it came to your relationships. D/n may only be twelve, but she has a knack for being able to sniff out unsuitable future dads/moms/parents. The thing about your daughter was.. she was Osomatsus complete opposite. She’s serious, hardworking, an over achiever type of gal. She knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. Point is, you were a little worried about how she would take you dating a literal neet.
As you walked into your house, your daughter was reading on the floor. As per usual. She looked up, he eyes widening a little to see the male next to you. Red hoodie. She stood up, walking up to osomatsu, and he smiled, taking his hand out for her to shake wordlessly, and she takes it, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Osomatsu!” “So I’ve heard. My name is d/n.” She said, her face more deadpan, in contrast to his smile. He didn’t seem to mind though, like he didn’t care, which made her raise a brow. Your past lovers tended to be intimidated by her seriousness.
Seeing how well behaved your kid was, how serious she was. He didn’t even think she was real, she’s literally the perfect child. Seeing how sweet you were being with her as well. God you were a great parent that raised such a well behaved child and he couldn’t help but sigh out of pure love..
Maybe that’s what won her over, and actually be willing to be nice and have a conversation with him.
“Wait so you’re a neet?” “Yes.” “Are you looking for a job?” “Nope.” She lets out a loud sigh as he smirks. “
They talked for a bit, and honestly? Your daughter couldn’t help but sigh at some of the things he said, only making him laugh more. You are surprised she hasn’t blown up in his face yet.. but.. is she… laughing? At a joke he made? That’s so… unlike her..
You can’t help but smile at the two.
Karamatsu is extremely surprised, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t ask about the other parent, it’s personal and he understands if you don’t wanna talk about it. Very excited about meeting the child as well honestly. Tries to keep that cool guy act and pretend he’s not overly excited but it couldn’t be more obvious, he always brings it up whenever you see eachother as well. “So.. heh.. how are s/n and d/n.. hm??” Trying to act cool about it. You simply deadpan, “do you want to meet them karamatsu?” “YES!” He then coughs suddenly, “ahem, yes..”
You wondered if he was excited because they were identical twins. Yes, you had two kids. A son and a daughter, absolute monsters. They’re teens though, so it’s to be expected. Being age fifteen was not easy! But.. you often found yourself scolding the two of them for something new.
You weren’t too nervous about him meeting them, it would certainly be an… interesting night. He seemed rather nervous though. You gave him a reassuring smile before walking in…
Only to find a mess before you, as you expected. You sigh, “d/n!! s/n!! Get down here and clean your mess!!” You yell in a tone karamatsu has never heard you yell. Such a motherly tone with strictness to it. He heard loud stomping, only to see the two rush down the stairs. They originally would just rush, and get back upstairs but the two of them stop upon seeing a man beside you.
“Who is that?” s/n cocks a brow, and before you could answer, your daughter interrupts, hitting his arm. “Ow!” “It’s the new daddy right?! Right? I’m right! Right..?” She smiled excitedly, and he couldn’t help but blush a bit. Dad..dy.. maybe one day? You couldn’t help but blush yourself, “this is my boyfriend karamatsu. Karamatsu this is s/n and d/n. Okay you two, clean up and make it quick.” You say as they both quickly nod, yelling a “nice to meet you!” Before cleaning up all the chip bags, clothes, and wires on the floor.
Karamatsu was having a trouble time acting cool in front of these teens. They were oozing with confidence, and that is intimidating. No matter HOW young they are. They are definitely your kids. They have your confidence, your talkative and mischievous personality, your teasing, everything. “Wait so what’s your job?” “Do you live by yourself?” “Do you have any siblings?”
“Kids..!” You looked at them with that stern look, and they quickly shut up. “Sorry!” S/n grins, “maybe we’re being a bit much..” he laughs sheepishly, as so does his sister. “We’re just excited!” She whines, and karamatsu only chuckles, saying that it was fine.. “I understand you have a lot of questions about dear old me..” he adjusts his shades, “I am a sextuplet.. I love with my brothers..” “woaaah!!” “Seriously?! You love them that much?”
“What about the job?” D/n pressed, and he sweats. “As for a job.. heh.. I..” he pauses. Oh god here it comes.
“I have no plans..!”
“Jeez you paused just for that?!” Your daughter says in annoyance, as your son laughs. “Hahahah! This guy is awesome!”
“Really? Awesome?” He asks, trying not to sound hopeful.
“Yeah!” They both say at the same time, smiling.
He had to stop himself from letting out a loud sigh of relief.
Choromatsu spits out his drink, gaping at you. “You have a WHAT?!” He just can’t believe it to be honest, but at least he won’t ever have to have a talk with you about having kids with you (a talk he was terrified of having) so he’s actually thankful you have children already. He was a bit nervous about meeting the two little girls, they were age 10 but they were little demons.
As you walked in the house, you yelled, “girls! I’m home!” and he saw two little girls run up to hug you “mommy/daddy!” You hugged them back, “hey girls.. you gonna say hi?” You gesture to the man behind you, and they back up from the both of you and they wave “hello!” “Hi!” The twins say at the same time. For some reason, he felt like he was in the same room as Todomatsu. Fake cuteness and kindness to it.. god you were so right, these two were gonna be absolute monsters weren’t they?
He was a lot more scared now rather than just plain nervous, however your girls were good at conversing with him despite their younger age, asking him what he likes to watch and stuff. Not really the .. adult stuff. Which he was thankful for, it’s not like they need to know he does nothing… right?
Well, that was until the younger twin said something. It’s always the youngest isn’t it?
“Oh… I… uhm… I don’t really have a job” he rubs the back of his neck, “oh! Why?” She asks, “uhm… because I.. don’t want to..?” He says honestly, and she looks to you “can I not work because I don’t feel like it?” she looks innocently, but you know her better than that, shaking your head no. “Awww!” She pouts, but smiles. “Well, that’s okay! You can just work at home or something, like .. uhm..” she thinks for a moment, the elder twin pops in “like a malewife!”
He felt his face grow red, malewife?
“Okay girls go set up the table for dinner!” You butt in, smiling.
“Okay!” They say in unison, running off, and you notice them giggling mischievously. You roll your eyes.
These two were gonna be a lot, he knew it. But instead of feeling scared, he felt happy, relieved even.
He was a part of a new family now.
Ichimatsu is surprised as well, a kid? Well it’s not like he minds it exactly, he secretly likes kids a lot.. besides this means he can technically have one of his own if he plays his cards right with you. Which hes much more determined to do. A young 12 year old boy, a 16 year old girl. He can’t wait to meet the two of them.
The younger one was… much more energetic, mischievous even. However, he will hand it to him for digging the color purple, as it was obvious from his dyed purple hair, black and purple striped skirt, (yes, your young boy was wearing a cute skirt), a stylish young boy full of confidence. Despite his smirk though, something about him had a similar aura to his own. Then there’s your daughter, complete opposite. Pink clothing to contrast her brother. With a permanent grumpy frown on her face, he assumed that was normal for her, which he wasn’t wrong about.
As he conversed with them for a bit, it seemed like he had a lot in common with the little boy. “Hehe~ I love cats! Big sis likes em too.. she likes to act all tough and like she doesn’t tho!” He said in a teasing tone as for once looks up from her phone and stops texting. “Not true!” She blushes a bit, and he laughs.
He can’t help but smile himself, making your son smirk with a bit of pride at making your intimidating boyfriend smile. He’s definitely been trying to show a good impression this whole time. Unlike your daughter who doesn’t care either way, she’s definitely like Ichimatsu in many ways.
Though by the end of the day, when he didn’t try conversing with her as much as your son she started putting in effort.
“I didn’t take you for an anime nerd.” Ichimatsu admits, “maybe you should meet my brother.” He says, referring to Choromatsu in particular. “Oh shit you have a brother?” “Yeah. Your mother/father didn’t tell you? I have like five brothers.” “Holy shit that’s horrible” your sister looks in disgust, as her younger brother just laughs at her dramatics.
Your daughter showed much more of her true personality upon the shock of him being a sextuplet, and he ended up chuckling at her ridiculousness.
He already loved the hell outta your kids.
“Cool! When do I get to meet them?!” Jyushimatsu asks rather excitedly, and it’s hard for you to be too surprised by that kinda reaction. Of course he didn’t care you had kids.. three, to be exact. Triplets, all three girls. Yeah.. all three. Originally, you had two girls and one boy, but things have changed, and that was just fine by you, who was once your eldest child and only son, was now your eldest daughter.
Jyushimatsu was eager to meet all three, they’re all 16 years old. The eldest, was the “chill” one of the three. She often likes to just relax and can be seen as overly patient and calm. The second, often with a bored or deadpan look, she reminded Jyushimatsu of Ichimatsu. And the third, who honestly was a spoiled brat, she was grumpy at times and she always got what she wanted.
He ended up talking to the girls a lot, talking about being a sextuplet, being a neet, and of course baseball. Your eldest listened, “oh that’s cool! I love baseball!” She went to get a picture showing him pictures she’s taken with famous baseball players, as the youngest rolls her eyes. The second eldest was as quiet as ever as your boyfriend and your eldest conversed about their similar interests, the youngest complaining, Jyushimatsu laughing it off.
He had lots in common with the youngest too, and was able to eventually gain her approval. He eventually talked with the second daughter about things, which was also nice. She seemed to like him. Your second eldest tended to be the shyer nervous type despite the cold exterior that she puts on, so she really liked such a friendly dude.
He seemed to really like them. And he was really good with them. You couldn’t help but think how sweet he was being, he’s always sweet but it’s different. He’s being different with them. It’s nice.. it’s good. He would be such a good dad.
You smile at the thought.
Todomatsu is certainly surprised that you have children. He’s curious to learn more about them too. “So when do I get to meet em!” He’ll excitedly ask, “whenever you wanna totty” you smile, “though, I must admit.. they can be a bit much sometimes” you rub the back of your neck and he gives you a deadpan look. “Have you met my brothers?”
Good point.
And that’s why he’s here now, talking to the three of your kids. Three identical twins!
Technically your son is the eldest, he’s a grumpy guy though. Always yelling or cursing at something, you think to yourself that maybe it’ll go away, he’s only 16. The other twin, your daughter, is much more outgoing and hyper, his complete opposite. And finally your youngest child. They were more of the silent, mysterious type, even shy.
The eldest was nonchalant with him and honestly you could tell your boyfriend was a bit nervous with him. You smack your son at the back of his head whenever he gave a backhanded comment. He didn’t like your boyfriend at first, but he kinda gave in. Only reason was when he noticed how he looked at you when you were helping your youngest with something, it was like that stupid I’m in love with my s/o look.
He got along with the second the most, she’s easy to get along with given her friendly personality. Besides, she is always in on the newest internet drama, she was bound to get along with him the most. She adores him. And of course, the youngest. The youngest got along with him quickly, actually thinking he was pretty cool. They liked his style, his being more pastel and pink, a huge contrast to their emo style. They weren’t as kept with drama but they definitely were in on clothing trends which they both conversed about. They warmed up to him and got out of their shell, even calling him totty by the end of the night along with your daughter, your son refusing to do that.
Seeing how each one of your kids interacted with totty, it was obvious they all liked him.
He was gonna fit in great with this family.
#choromatsu x reader#ichimatsu x reader#jyushimatsu x reader#karamatsu x reader#osomatsu x reader#todomatsu x reader#osomatsu san x reader#osomatsusan x reader
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Monopoly Ask Meme Eyeshield 21 Edition
Send me a fandom and a number and I’ll tell you
1. Who is the banker?
Mamori is the only one everyone trusts enough not to cheat or play favourites so she ends up being the banker. She never minds though. She can only imagine what would happen if anyone else was the banker
2. Who is overly protective of a certain game token and refuses to play until they get that token?
Oddly enough, it’s Kid and that top hat. He must play as the hat or he won’t play at all. Of course, given the amount of work it took to get him to play in the first place, despite some grumbling, he always gets his way.
3. Who is the person that everybody always suspects of cheating even though “OH MY GOD IT WAS ONE TIME”
Taki hates the game. Loathes it. Wants it to be over quicker than it is. And so he might have cheated just once. Just a little. Not even badly. But he was caught (he’s a very obvious and flashy cheater) and he has never lived it down. Why he still plays is a mystery to him.
4. Who is the person who cheats and gets away with it because no one suspects them?
Suzuna. She looks cute and innocent and nobody would ever figure her for someone who would cheat but don’t let her fool you. She plays dirty and she plays to win.
5. Who buys everything they land on with a YOLO approach and no strategy?
Shin. To be honest, he just doesn’t understand the game.
6. Who suggests that they liven it up with alcohol?
Agon. Yamabushi. The Ha-Ha Brothers. Kid. Hell, even Kakei has been okay with the suggestion if only to forget the torture that is Monopoly.
7. Who has a very stringent strategy and is willing to do strange requests and weird dares in exchange for the properties they want?
Akaba. He’s definitely playing some kind of strategy and plays it hard. It’s just that no one really understands his strategy and it really doesn’t help him win. It’s just nonsensical and everyone just kind of likes making him do such outlandish things with his typical straight face.
8. Who INSISTS that they play by the rulebook TO THE LETTER?
Definitely Unsui. He’s a big fan of following the rules of a game and tries to keep the game to the rules instead of letting it fall into chaos.
9. Who throws the rulebook in the other person’s face and makes up new rules to make it better?
Is it any surprise that it’s Hiruma. Hell, he even goes back and changes his own made up rules sometimes just to make the game more interesting. Well, more interesting for him, at least.
10. Who has ridiculously good luck with the chance cards to the point of suspicion?
Okay, but is Riku storing all those really great chance cards up his sleeve and just pulling them out when he needs to? If it wasn’t for the fact that everyone knows he’s too aboveboard to cheat, they would honestly accuse him of it for how lucky he gets.
11. Who lands on all the taxes and as a result vows to vote for a different candidate in the next election?
Panther has terrible luck with board games. While he has natural luck in almost everything else, the man should never, ever touch a token or a set of dice because he will be guaranteed to lose.
12. Who goes bankrupt first?
Monta. He’s just really, really terrible at managing his money.
13, Which two people get into a screaming match?
With these people, who isn’t screaming at each other? Aside from the more stoic members of the teams, tempers tend to flare up, especially when any kind of game is involved and Monopoly tends to bring out the cut-throat attitude in everyone.
14. Which two people are secretly collaborating for a joint victory?
Agon and Hiruma have teamed up to win. They work really well together and secretly have plans to double cross each other anyway.
15. which two people are openly collaborating for a joint victory?
Everyone knows the Ha-Ha Brothers are all helping each other out and are a solid, united front.
16. Who flips the table?
Mizumachi does but not on purpose. He just is so rambunctious and gets so fidgety and flighty because he gets bored within ten minutes of playing that he starts goofing around and either flips the table or knocks the board over or something along those lines.
17. Who is the sore winner who in any other circumstance would be the one flipping the table?
Clifford does not lose gracefully. He hates losing and if he could, he would flip that table to keep from being defeated.
18. Who anonymously calls in a bomb threat to end the game early?
Marco. He does it both to keep from losing and because he really does not want to do this anymore. There’s a couple people who have cottoned on to what he’s doing but appreciate what he’s doing too much to call him out on it at all.
19. Who is the smart person who refuses to play in the first place?
The second Monopoly is mentioned, you would swear Musashi was aiming to beat Sena’s speed record. He’s having none of that shit.
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Won’t You Stay (Part 2)
Summary: Jensen starts his first day of work and learns who the reader is...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader
Word Count: 2,400ish
Warnings: language
A/N: There is no taglist for this series. Check out the masterlist to see how to be notified of new parts. Please enjoy!
______
“Ella,” you said into your phone the next morning as you walked out of your budget meeting, ready to dive into filming. “It was an accident. I’m sure the girl on the other team knows that.”
“I know. I broke her nose though. I felt so bad,” she said.
“She’ll live. Talk to your coach. Maybe she knows the other one and you can send a get well card or something,” you said.
“Yeah, I think maybe I’ll do that,” she said. “How’s the movie going? I didn’t hear dad come home last night.”
“There was a slight problem yesterday but hopefully it’s settled now,” you said, hearing the phone get shuffled around. “No, Anthony, I’m not getting you Gil Nicholas’ autograph. Guy isn’t even going to be in the movie.”
“Really?” asked your brother.
“Really. He’s kind of a douche. I gotta go and you guys have school. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said.
“Wait!” said Anthony. “The Nolan situation. You said you’d help.”
“Help what? You two are dating,” you said.
“Mom and dad, genius,” he said.
“Anthony,” groaned Ella in the background. “Mom and dad will not care that you like boys. Y/N and I like boys and they don’t.”
“Yeah but I’m the only boy and our dad literally plays a badass on TV and in movies, El,” he said.
“Anthony. Our dad also was a single father to me for years. He played dress up and princesses and he gave me the puberty talk. He loves you no matter what. So does mom. Trust me,” you said.
“Yeah, but you’re like, his favorite,” he said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “You know what I mean. You’re special.”
“I didn’t meet mom until I was ten years old, Anthony. Dad and I were on our own. I’m not his favorite. There’s no favorite,” you said. “Dad is just overly protective of me is all. We’ll talk about your cute little boyfriend later, okay? I promise.”
“Alright. See ya,” he said. You shook your head as you hung up and headed onto the set, stopping by the breakfast line to grab some coffee.
An hour later you were at the Hale’s house location, everything looking like it was running smoothly. You popped inside and saw your dad rehearsing with Jensen, giving them both a smile.
“How’s it going?” you asked.
“Good,” said your dad. “We gonna start soon?”
“Five or so minutes,” you said, Jensen staring at you.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were a PA on the movie,” he said. Your dad chuckled along with a few other people in the room.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, holding out a hand and watching the color drain from Jensen’s face. “I’m your director and the author of The Dark Woods.”
“Well fuck me,” he said, shaking your hand as you smirked. “Oh my...I am so sorry for being late last night and assuming you were a PA and you’re Ethan Y/L/N’s daughter and you wrote my favorite book ever which I was totally fanboying out over last night and I’m going to shut up now.”
“Don’t do that. You’re getting paid to talk after all,” you said with a smile. “Walk with me for a second.”
He followed you out to the back porch and across the yard, swallowing loudly when you came to a stop by a tree.
“Sorry about not mentioning it earlier. I didn’t want you to be nervous in your audition if I was there and I figured it wasn’t a huge deal if you found out this morning,” you said.
“No, no mam. It’s-”
“Please, no mam or boss or that crap. Y/N, that’s it,” you said. “I’m not even your boss.”
“I’m mostly embarrassed about how I gushed last night about the book to the freakin author,” he said, some blush crossing his cheeks.
“As the freakin author, we live for that shit,” you laughed. Jensen relaxed and let out a small one of his own. “I watched your audition. You knew Lyle inside and out.”
“I’ve read the book more than a few times. I…” he trailed off, face going red.
“Yes?”
“I should quit while I’m ahead,” he said.
“Maybe you can tell me why you like it so much over that drink,” you said, giving him a smile. He looked around and raised an eyebrow.
“You still want to do that?” he asked.
“I’m in charge. It doesn’t mean I’m your boss. That’s casting’s job. I would still expect a drink,” you said.
“Is that such a good idea?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I sort of asked as...not friends,” he said. “You being...you and the director…”
“Oh,” you said.
“Your dad is kind of terrifying too,” he said.
“Yeah. He has scared off more than a few guys. Or they’re more interested in him,” you said, forcing a smile. You’d never in a million years want him to feel uncomfortable so if he wanted to keep things professional, that was okay with you. “I guess I’ll be drinking alone on Saturday then.”
“I mean, I didn’t say…” he trailed off. “Maybe someday-“
“It’s cool, Jensen. Let’s get started for the day, hm?” you said. He nodded and you headed back inside the house, finding your chair in a back room. “We ready to go?”
“Mhm,” said your assistant director AJ as he took a seat beside you. You sat back and pulled on your headphones as various departments started shouting off, the camera lining up its first shot.
“Action!” you called. Your dad walked into the kitchen, pointing for Jensen to take a seat. He begrudgingly did so, your dad going to the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.
“You live here?” asked Jensen.
“No. I pay the mortgage on this place for fun. Of course I live here, kid,” he said. “Now keep your mouth shut.”
“You’re not a very pleasant person,” mumbled Jensen. Your dad spun around and grabbed the fork off the table, holding it up to Jensen’s neck. He froze, not even letting a breath escape.
“I am still not positive if I’m letting you live yet so be quiet if you want to increase your odds,” he said. Jensen swallowed and your dad pulled away, going back to the eggs. “I hope you like fried eggs.”
“Actually I don’t,” said Jensen. Your dad spun around again but this time Jensen stared him down.
“Fried eggs it is,” he said with a smirk. Jensen rolled his eyes and you called cut.
“Do it again,” you said. “Jensen, can you pause when you walk in and take a look around this time? Notice the house a bit.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Reset,” you said, waiting for them to get out of view of the camera. “Action!”
“Hey, Jensen,” you said, catching him in the parking lot for the actors near the production office that evening. He spun around with a smile, fixing his backpack on his shoulders.
“Hi, Y/N. What’s up?” he asked.
“I uh, just wanted to say you did really good today. I’m really happy you’re playing Lyle,” you said.
“Oh. Thanks. I’m nowhere near as good as your dad,” he said. “He’s kind of insanely good at this.”
“He’s had more practice,” you said. “Honestly though, I’m glad Gil dropped out. He wouldn’t have done what you were doing today.”
“Why’d he drop out anyways? He’s in freaking Marvel movies. He’s huge,” said Jensen.
“I think he got an offer to do some serious drama. He doesn’t need a breakthrough role. He’s already had that. To be honest I never liked the choice,” you said.
“Well, Lyle’s smart. Gil isn’t exactly known for playing intelligent characters,” said Jensen. You smirked and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably shouldn’t trash talk him. I’ve never met him.”
“I have. Trust me. He deserves it. You know your Lyle Sullivan,” you said.
“I started rereading today during a few breaks. Never hurts to have the source material in your head,” he said.
“Not sure Gil can read so you’re already winning,” you said. Jensen laughed and nodded. “You don’t have to reread though Jensen. I kept the script the same as the book.”
“Oh, I know. I could tell there weren’t really any changes between them. I just like rereading it,” he said.
“I like to read it every once in a while too,” you said. “I’d say if you ever had any questions on how to play a scene or how Lyle would act feel free to ask but I have a feeling you won’t need help in that department.”
“You had plenty of notes for me today,” he said, ducking his head down.
“I’m sorry,” you said, his head instantly popping up.
“No, no. They were good. It’s kind of why I’m reading it again. Take the kitchen scene today. It’s very clear in the book how Lyle looks around the space,” he said. You stared at him and smiled.
“Jensen, you don’t have to memorize the thing. It’s why I give you notes, so you don’t have to. I know I went a bit overboard today. I’ll try to ease up some.”
“No, it’s good. Keep doing it. It makes it better,” he said. “I want to make it look as good as possible. I can’t imagine being in charge of everything.”
“Well I only get called kid in every meeting I’m in which is lovely,” you said. “I mean my dad is the other lead. I get the whole people thinking this is nepotism thing.”
“Didn’t you use a pen name during publishing though, at least to get someone to choose it on it’s own merits, not your name? I thought I read that,” he said.
“Yeah. I did. Once I got the deal I gave my real name. I mean, people can think whatever they want. I wanted it published because it was good enough though, not because some chick in an office thinks my dad is attractive or something,” you said.
“I can understand that,” he said. “Hey, can I ask question about the book?”
“Shoot,” you said as he leaned back against his car.
“Why does the cover have a picture of the woods on a bright day if it’s the Dark Woods? I always wondered that,” he said.
“Oh boy,” you laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been asked that. If you can believe it, there was a printing error where they forgot to add a filter but it was too late to go back and fix it. I ended up liking it.”
“Here I thought it was because Lyle’s a good guy, Hale too, despite all the reasons they have to be bad,” he said. “You know, light in dark. Symbolism or whatever.”
“Nah,” you laughed, Jensen letting out one of his own. “I do like that interpretation though. I uh, I’m sorry for keeping you. I’m sure you want to get home. I have to go do some more work. I won’t keep you anymore.”
“No, it’s cool. I like talking to you,” he said. “I’ll catch you around tomorrow, Y/N.”
“You too, Jensen.”
You headed into the building, heading upstairs to where your movie had a few rooms to use. You popped into your small office and pulled out your laptop from your backpack, stretching before you grabbed your binder and sat down.
You skimmed through it and made some notes, hopping back and forth between it and your email for a while. You yawned and put your head in your hand, scrolling through a few things and making a choice on a few costume choices for Jensen and your dad.
“Kiddo,” said your dad, shaking your shoulder all of a sudden. You popped your head up from your production office desk, your dad giving you a smile. “You missed mom’s calls earlier. She had me come check on you since you never answered. I think you conked out at some point.”
“What time is it?” you yawned.
“About three in the morning. I checked your apartment first,” he said. “Come on, up and at ‘em.”
“I got to be here at six for prep, might as well stay,” you said, stretching in your seat.
“You’ll burn yourself out if you pull all-nighters all the time,” he said. “It’s only day three.”
“And it took a lot longer to film yesterday’s scenes than I thought it would,” you said. “Everything was good but the location hopping took way longer than I thought it would.”
“Follow me,” he said. You groaned and he pulled you to your feet, guiding you down the hall and outside to the night air. You walked for a few minutes until you were at his trailer door, your dad opening it up and flipping on the light switch.
“Your trailers have gotten nicer over the years,” you said as you stepped up inside
“And what was your favorite part of my trailers ever since you were a little girl?” he asked, walking you back to the bedroom. “The big ass bed.”
“They were awesome for jumping on,” you said.
“Well next time you skip dinner at our place, text mom so she doesn’t worry and the next time you need to stay late, crash here, sweetie,” he said. “Now sleep, kiddo. I’ll be out on the pullout.”
“Thanks dad,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead before you plopped down on the bed.
“Rest up. Tomorrow’s a big stunt day.”
______
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
#supernatural#spn#jensen x reader#jensen ackles#supernatural series#supernatural reader insert#jensen ackles x reader#spn reader insert#jensen reader insert#jensen x#jensen ackles x you
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This is the Story of How They Met
Neeeeext request! From the lovely @canyousevmyheavydirtysoul off the prompt liiiiist.
I had thought, at the time of changing jobs, that becoming a server at weddings would be fun. A nice change of pace from the standard restaurant, slightly higher pay for it being a little bit fancier, people there for a good time instead of people working desk jobs on their rushed lunch break - it seemed like a sweet gig. But, as it so turned out, it was just busy. There would be huge breaks of no work at a time, but on the days where you had a job? Oh, boy. It was insane. So much prep work, constant running around, long shifts. No wonder there was a higher pay, this shit was difficult. And where I had thought that the clientele would be nicer given that they were all at a seemingly happy event, no. That was not the case at all. There were the disgruntled distant relatives (in contrast to the often overly jovial immediate family members), the jealous friends, the lonely singles, and the stragglers that were never really sure why they’d been invited in the first place. It was, in fact, an often shitty crowd to deal with.
But I didn’t have a huge amount of time to dwell on that as I was handed the first tray of appetizers to give out. It was go time, time to break out the customer service smile. The reception was already pretty well underway, most people already taking advantage of the generous free bar that was set up. I was doing my first round of the room when a guy stopped me, clearly wanting to have a chat.
“Having a good evening?” He asked with a smile as he grabbed one of the meatballs off of the tray.
“It looks like a nice wedding.” I replied, deflecting the question instead of giving an honest answer.
“It’s okay, I guess, uh…” He shrugged before pausing and glancing at my shirt in an effort to spot a name. “No name tag?” He asked with a confused frown.
“This isn’t a diner, it’s a wedding.” I said with a short laugh. “People are meant to be paying attention to the happy couple, they don’t need to know who’s serving them.”
“But I’d like to.” He shot back smoothly, adjusting his tie slightly.
I eyed the name on the printed card in front of his plate: Pete Wentz. The two empty beer glasses in front of him also caught my attention. “Well, Pete-” He seemed surprised at my knowledge of his name. “maybe another time when I’m not in the middle of a shift.” I said, brushing past his chair and continuing to hand out these ridiculously overpriced meatballs.
“Is that a promise?” He called after me.
After that, every time I went near his table, he made a point to try and speak with me. I shouldn’t have humoured him, should’ve just left it. But he seemed charismatic and interesting and honestly something entertaining at this dull wedding was sorely needed. The couple were acting like this was an arranged marriage for how lively they were being at their own wedding reception. This man, Pete, appeared to have been relegated to the table of people they felt guilty enough to invite but didn’t really want to be here, shoved in the back corner of the room.
“You should sit for a while.” Pete said as I came by with the first course. He was beginning to get a slight slur in his voice, which was unsurprising given the number of free drinks I’d seen him grab throughout the evening.
“Even if I wasn’t at work right now,” I sighed as I set his plate down, “there is nowhere to sit. There’s literally a seating plan.” I was surprised that nobody at his table had said anything about his antics.
“I’m sure I could make some space on my chair.” He said slyly as he pushed it out and patted his lap. I couldn’t help but snort with laughter.
“Nice try.”
“Worth a shot.” He winked.
“On the note of shots, want to have a shot with me?” He offered, face lighting up at the idea.
“I’m working.” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Nobody has to know.” He whispered overly loudly.
“I’d know.” I chuckled.
“Come ooooonnnn.”
“I can get you a shot.” I compromised.
He let out a reluctant groan. “I guess I’ll have to settle for that.”
“Tequila?” I suggested.
“It’s like you already know me so well.” He said wistfully as I wandered off.
Pete didn’t seem to be that bad of a guy. A ridiculously brazen guy who was getting himself really drunk at this wedding, but not a bad one. It looked like he was a fairly well-groomed sorta person, his suit was neatly pressed, his black hair cut and styled nicely. Through passing conversation, it was revealed that he had gone to high school with the groom and that they were best friends back in the day, but hadn’t spoken in over five years. As a result, he really had no idea why he was here tonight. Or why he had even RSVP’d. He was entertaining, but was also doing a good job at preventing me from working.
“If you’re not gonna sit, or drink, then dance with me?” Pete pouted at me as I cleared his dessert plate. He was truly drunk now. I’d seen him get up a few times and stumble over his own feet on the way to the bathroom.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Why?” He whined. His table was mostly empty now, people having either gotten up to dance or gone home.
“Still at work.” I reminded him.
“When are you not at work?” He asked, leaning his head on his hand and staring up at me.
“When the wedding is finished?” I replied in confusion.
“Well, what are you doing then?” He questioned.
“What?” I asked, watching as his head slipped off his hand and nearly hit the table. I reached my hand out to help him, but he quickly recomposed himself.
“When the wedding is finished? Are you busy?” He continued, acting like that didn’t just happen.
“Fuck me…” I mumbled under my breath. It was gonna be harder to get away from him now that dessert was finished - I didn’t have as much work to use as an excuse at this point in the evening. It was mostly just washing up.
“Really?” He grinned smugly.
“No, absolutely not.” I said quickly, eyes wide in surprise.
“You sure?” He teased. “I’d be down for that.”
“I’m certain you would.” I nodded.
I went to walk off, but he caught my arm before I could.
“Seriously, though,” Pete started, “would you wanna meet up sometime?” He suggested, all air of cockiness gone. I met his gaze, trying to judge whether he was in his right mind to be making such offers. For how much I had seen him drink, he should be pretty fucking wasted, but he seemed pretty lucid in this moment.
“I suppose it would have to be more interesting than what this wedding has been.” I resigned quietly.
He instantly broke out into a bright grin. “Are you free Thursday?” He asked as he scrawled his number down onto his napkin.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Great! I’ll come grab you at six?” He suddenly seemed like a kid in a candy store, so ridiculously eager.
“Sure.” I smiled.
“Okay.” He said decisively, before standing up. “I promise I’ll be more sober then, but for now I’m gonna go throw up.” He was entirely straight faced as he said it, and then began stumbling to the bathroom. I watched in bewildered amusement, before deciding it would probably be a nice thing to do to make sure that he had a glass of water to come back to at his table to try and sober him up some.
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Boston Boys [Part Seventeen]
Summary: After being visited by detectives, Elsa asks for some truth from Aurelie. Chris gets unsolicited advice from John, prompting him to make a hard decision.
Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC
Word Count: 2370
Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity, language, pregnancy, angst.
A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Three more parts after this. You’ve been warned.
Boston Boys Masterlist
The next morning, Elsa’s temples were throbbing. That one glass of wine had turned into a bottle and a half, plus a lot of crying. She forced herself out of bed and through a steamy, somewhat refreshing shower, then went to the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen while the hot water brewed for her morning tea.
She was contemplating some toast when the tea and medicine seemed to help her hangover, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. The detectives who had questioned her in the hospital after the bank robbery were standing at her apartment door. Elsa pulled her robe tighter around her and welcomed them inside.
“I’m sorry for my appearance, I’ve only been up for a little while, and I wasn’t expecting company.” She told them to make themselves comfortable, then went to her room to grab her phone off the charger. “Although, I see now that you called to tell me you’d be by. I’m sorry I missed that.”
“No apology necessary, Ms. Chapman,” Detective Mullins assured. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we have some leads in the investigation.”
“Really? It’s been a while since I heard anything, I assumed it was lost in the files or something.”
Detective Rose gave her a kind smile. “We try not to let these cases go if we don’t absolutely have to. As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was another significant bank hit recently.”
Elsa nodded, remembered the surveillance video on the news and the panic attack the images had induced. “I saw the report.”
“We at first thought that one or the other robbery had been a copycat of others which have taken place -- after all, your case is the only instance in which a hostage has been taken,” Detective Mullins explained. “But our forensics team has been analyzing a lot of evidence, and it seems that the same crew hit both banks. We have some suspects we’d like you to look at.”
“I don’t understand,” Elsa frowned. “I told you, they had masks on. I couldn’t see an inch of skin.”
The detectives encouraged her to take a look anyway. They placed four pictures in front of her -- four pictures of faces that were all too familiar. One in particular. Her face must have read shock because Detective Mullins was asking if she was all right.
Elsa swallowed and pointed to the picture of Chris. “I don’t recognize any of them for the robbery, but I’ve been dating this man for several months. We ran into each other at the grocery store and he -- I was crying, having a weak moment after the robbery. He was nice to me.”
Detective Rose jotted something down on a small notepad. “The Evans family has a longstanding history with the Boston legal system. Do you know about Chris’s father?”
Her throat was too dry to speak, so she nodded. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Chris’s mugshot.
“We believe that Chris took over for his father after Robbie Evans went to jail -- not only the barber shop, but the family crime business, as well. Between forensics and piecing some other things together, Ms. Chapman, we believe that Chris Evans and his crew are responsible for the robbery at your bank, the most recent hit, and several others throughout the city.”
The detectives seemed so sure, Elsa felt sick to her stomach. She dismissed it as nerves on top of the wine she’d had the night before, but less than a minute later, she was heaving into the kitchen sink. The men sat by, awkwardly waiting for her to compose herself.
“What do you need from me?” she asked, quietly.
They rose from the table; Mullins answered her. “Right now, only your willingness to cooperate, if and when necessary. We’ll keep you up to date as much as possible. I understand you have family in New York?”
Elsa nodded.
Detective Rose pressed his lips into a thin line. “For the time being, we need you in the state -- in the city, if possible. If you feel the need to leave for any reason, if you could let us know, we would appreciate it. For your own safety.”
Elsa nodded again and showed them to the door. Detective Mullins’s business card was still stuck under a magnet on her refrigerator, so she had their contact information if she needed it.
What she needed right now were answers. Honest, clear answers. She didn’t trust Chris to answer her, let alone tell her the truth, and she didn’t know the rest of his friends well enough to contact any of them. There had to be someone she could contact, someone close to Chris who would tell her what in the hell was really going on.
“Aurelie,” Elsa said out loud, going back to the table for her phone.
The diner in Attleboro seemed busier than normal for this time of morning. Maybe it was, maybe Aurelie only felt that way because she had been hoping for some semblance of privacy. She ordered a cup of coffee and sipped at it, waiting patiently until Elsa came through the door.
“Elsa,” she called, waving.
The blonde woman gave a small wave in return. She stopped at the counter to order a tea and some toast, then dropped to the bench across from Aurelie. “Morning. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure. Thanks for coming out here, especially at this hour.” Aurelie sipped her coffee.
Elsa nodded, thanking the waitress for her order. She sipped her tea and took a bite of toast. “I don’t mean to put you in the middle of any drama. I want to be very clear about that, up front. I know you have -- you have a lot going on, on your own.”
Aurelie pursed her lips. “Chris told you about the baby.”
“He did. Congratulations, by the way. I know Chris is struggling with it, but I do hope you’re happy.”
“Thank you,” Aurelie replied, giving a small smile. “Speaking of Chris, that’s what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes,” Elsa said, sipping down more tea and taking another bite of toast. She wasn’t really hungry, but it gave her a chance to gather her thoughts. “The police came to my house last night. They were asking about the people who robbed the bank -- the ones who kidnapped me.”
Aurelie frowned. “Did they find them?”
“They think maybe they did.” Elsa took another sip of tea. “They showed me pictures, even though I didn’t think I would recognize anyone.”
She stopped to gauge Aurelie’s reaction. That woman was still sipping her coffee, looking concerned, but not overly so. Elsa continued.
“The pictures they showed me were of Chris, Scott, Seb, and Scarlett. They’ve got some kind of forensic evidence from the most recent hit, they think that it’s them.”
Rolling her eyes, Aurelie pushed her coffee mug to the side. “Elsa, you’re getting caught in the middle of some bad shit. Chris’s dad is in prison -- I know you know about that. He was in some deep stuff, but Chris isn’t. Seb, Scotty, Scar -- none of them are involved with any of it. When Robbie went to prison, Chris went legitimate, with everything. It’s the barber shop, smart investments. My brother is a good businessman. He’s a good man.”
“I don’t understand. Then why are they trying to pin this on them?”
“Those hits were big hits. They can’t let them go unsolved. Chris and them are an easy pin, because of the bad choices Robbie made. His fucking mistakes are going to haunt our family the rest of forever.” The waitress came and dropped the checks on the table; Aurelie took both of them and laid out a few bills. “Chris loves you, Elsa, and from what I can tell, I think you love him, too. Loving my brother, dating him -- it unfortunately comes with some baggage.”
Elsa took a deep breath as she processed everything Aurelie was saying. It all made sense, except for one thing. “If Chris and the others are legitimate, why do you distance yourself?”
“For their sake,” Aurelie answered, without missing a beat. “I started losing my hearing when I was fairly young, and it went slowly. For a while, hearing aids did the trick. My right ear isn’t the worst, if I can look at the person and they’re speaking clearly and looking at me. The left one was always worse than the right. Sometime in middle school, I mouthed off to Robbie, and he popped me on the side of the head. I deserved it, but my left ear dropped out almost completely after that. A year or so later, I got the cochlear. Robbie always blamed himself for that, but it wasn’t his fault. His daughters think that when everything went down, I turned Robbie in out of spite or revenge. They stopped talking to me, my mother stopped speaking to me. Scotty was always on the fence. So, for their sake, to make things easier, I stayed away. I stay away.”
Elsa nodded and finished her tea. It made sense. It all made sense. It was nothing she ever wanted to be a part of, but here she was. She loved Chris. He had stood her up, but that was something she hoped they could work through.
“I’ve got to get home and get some sleep,” Aurelie sighed, pushing out of the booth. “Give Chris the benefit of the doubt, Elsa. He deserves it.”
Elsa nodded and waved as Aurelie pulled on a jacket and left the diner. She finished her toast, had another cup of tea, and then went home to get some rest. She thought about calling Chris, but decided to wait it out. He would talk to her when he was ready, she hoped.
After a long night of no sleep, Chris was finally heading home. He had let Scotty know that he and Seb weren’t going to be in until the afternoon, so at least he could catch a few hours of sleep before he needed to go to the shop.
He stopped at the corner store for a small coffee, just to keep him from sleeping all day. When he spotted John Krasinski already at the coffee station, he sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit this morning.
“Morning,” John greeted.
“Morning,” Chris returned, selecting a cup from the stack and choosing his brew. He pushed the button on the machine to fill the cup, waiting for John to say something else. But, the other man said nothing, only finished doctoring his own coffee and went to the register to pay.
Chris frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation, but he had expected more than a one-word greeting to be exchanged between the two of them. He secured the lid on his coffee, paid, and hurried out of the corner store.
“John!” he called to the other man, jogging to catch up with him down the sidewalk. The other man stopped and turned but didn’t look any more keen on the idea of speaking to Chris than Chris had been to speak with John only a few minutes ago. “Hey, have you talked to Aurelie?”
“Oh, you mean since you crashed her whole world last night?” John snorted. “Yeah. She’s -- she’s not fine, but she’s safe. How could you keep that from her? Do you have any idea how much she trusted you?”
Chris licked his lips and let out a deep breath. “I know. I know she did, and I know we may never get that back. I’m stuck, man. I don’t know what’s going on in my life and now all this shit is coming to light. I don’t want Aurelie to get caught in the middle of me working my shit out.”
John shook his head and scoffed. “It’s too late for that. Don’t you get it? She got caught in the middle of your shit the moment you decided to lie for your father about how her father died. She’s your sister, Chris. Blood, step, whatever. She looks at you as her brother -- her only brother. Her mother won’t even talk to her, but she always had you. Now she doesn’t even have that.”
Shaking his head, Chris held both hands up before letting his free hand slap back down against his leg. “I don’t know what to say to that. You’re right, she’s always been in the middle of it. When she decided to distance, I should have left her alone, too. I had to come clean, I guess.”
“Right,” John said, looking down at his coffee before looking back to Chris. “Speaking of coming clean, you know where she was up until about ten minutes ago? As much as she hates you and maybe never wants to see you again, she was at the diner in Attleboro with Elsa. She’s lying for you so that Elsa doesn’t believe what the cops told her about you and the rest of them being responsible for the bank hits and the kidnapping. Aurelie is still protecting you, as hurt and angry as she is.”
“That’s all I wanted,” Chris sighed, shaking his head, “for Aurelie to be protected. Guess I ruined that. Now she won’t speak to me and she’s got no one. And that’s on me.”
John tilted his head side to side. “You’re partially right. She won’t speak to you, and you’re the one who did that. But she does have someone -- she has me. I’m gonna protect her, I’m gonna take care of her. And our baby.” Shrugging, he took a drink of his coffee. “Family feud bullshit aside -- I’m telling you this man to man. Get your shit together, Chris, before it ruins anyone else.”
John took off towards his bar then, leaving Chris to walk the long mile home. Chris let what John had said sink in; the other man was right, of course. There were a lot of things Chris had messed up recently. The ripple effect of his decisions and actions was only beginning to show.
Chris decided then and there, he had to stop this before it went any further.
AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl
Boston Boys: @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @becs-bunker @shield-agent78 @patzammit @crazyandanonymous4u @ntlmundy @jennmurawski13 @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too
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Maybe the quarantine is getting to me and I’m touch starved, but I wanna know what the BoB knuckleheads are like as boyfriends/husbands. I’m craving some romance.
ohhhh my god. okay. i can do this. i’m leaving out Welsh in this, just because i don’t think i could interfere with him and Kitty. I couldn’t. I, uh, also kinda wrote a few as fathers too cause i can’t get enough of that domestic shit.
Winters: Winters, to no surprise, is a very serious husband. He’s serious about the way he loves you in that he will quite literally do almost anything for you. He does not hesitate to show you off, but not in the way you might think. It’s “yeah, my wife is so much better than me at almost everything” and “my wife loves to do (insert niche thing here)” and he’s just really a “my wife” kind of guy. It’s adorable as fuck. You two have a daughter named Ginger (it’s still funny to you). She looks mostly like you, but she definitely has Dick’s eyes.
Nixon: Lew is insanely happy when he’s around you. You brought so much light into his life after the war — and you two own three dogs! Major Murray, Captain Colin and Lieutenant Larry. You have a son named Merriwether, and Lew always has him on his shoulders in the backyard. You’ll look out the window and Lew and Merri are pointing and waving at you and begging for you to come outside and play, and you always accept the offer.
Lipton: Lipton is easily the most loving husband. There is not a second where he doesn’t have a hand on you if he can help it. It’s not because he’s overly protective or jealous in any way, he just needs to hold you so he can stay grounded. You’re his rock. He was a bit too excited when he became a father and may or may not have written to the rest of the guys with a picture of you, him and your son John to show that everything was in order down there.
Spiers: I’m gonna be honest, Spiers wasn’t planning on admitting that he liked you at first because he didn’t want to have to lose you. After the war, though, did the sparks fly. He’s protective because of this,he even gets a little on edge sometimes even though he knows you love him. It’s just a defense thing, but when you hold his hand after a long day? It melts it all away.
Randleman: Okay, Bull is the literal definition of a gentleman. He pays attentive detail to what you like and when, and is somehow the best gift giver. He’s also got that southern charm that you just can’t get enough of. Though, he’s all about you being your own person. During the war, you would yell at the rest of the company for being idiots and he’d stand behind you, watching you take charge, thinking, “That’s my girl.”
Malarkey: Malarkey is actually insanely scared of losing you. After Bastogne and Foy, the thought of losing you was one of the worst nightmares he had. Because of this, he’s always holding your hand, making sure that you’re actually there. You’re more than happy to give him that extra kiss on the cheek, that extra hug, that extra squeeze to let him know you’re not going anywhere. After the war, you named your son Skip and your daughter Penny after your husband’s best friends.
Guarnere: Guarnere is always checking on you (“you okay babe?” “what’s goin’ on, doll? you good?”) to make sure the rest of the men know their place around you. Alone, he’s one of the most affectionate men you have ever laid your eyes upon. Around everyone else? The most serious motherfucker you will ever meet. He’s also super into pet names, oddly enough.
Roe: This Cajun boy is the prince of sweet. He’ll do so many things for you even when you don’t ask him too. You say something about how you’re gonna do the laundry later today? You’ll walk out of the bathroom and he’ll be in the middle of folding the clothes. He doesn’t really know how to not do things for you because he thinks it’s the best thing he can do to make everything for you so much easier. You constantly have to tell him that he doesn’t need to, but he always says it’s okay because he loves you.
Luz: Luz is a total goofball of a boyfriend. He can try to be serious but it’s just. not. happening. He might not have a hand on you, but almost any time you interact he’ll give you a kiss on the cheek. You two don’t go on dates, but you do have movie night every Wednesday and Friday, where he’ll have an arm wrapped around you while you two make fun of shitty B-movies (if Austin Powers was around during the time, that would definitely be your movie). Movie nights only got more cuddlier after the addition of your daughter Harriet, would lays on both of your laps. It’s the cutest Christmas card to ever exist.
Toye: Toye was very standoffish at first. He kept to himself with how he felt about you, not doing much until one day he sat across the table from you, didn’t say anything, and slid a single flower across. You two were together by the end of the day. The reason why it took so long? He was worried as hell that when everything in Foy he thought you’d want a man who was “whole” over him. You responded to this by kissing him and telling him that he had a “whole” lot of love and that you weren’t gonna leave him for something like that. It was just simply out of the question.
Liebgott: Lieb cannot get enough of you. He is absolutely in love with the very thought of you. It’s not that he sees you as an object or anything like that, he just loves every last inch of your body. It’s the perfect combination with your personality to him and he really can’t get over it. Every time he sees you it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time, falling in love all over again. You two may or may not have gone with a ‘J’ name for each of your children. No biggy.
Perconte: Perconte is very insecure about his height. You love it because he’s just as tall as you. He loves that you love it even though he’s not the most confident in it. That’s how your relationship started. You two are very much the kind of couple who will get drunk together and have deep conversations that aren’t very deep (last week it was on if sharks had thoughts, and if so, could Webster read them?) and they’d be followed by a very sloppy make out and a hangover the morning after. It was okay, though. You make helluva good coffee for hangovers.
Martin: Martin is a perfect combination of Winters and Guarnere in his being serious and protective. He doesn’t fuck around with the other men when it comes to you. You always tell him that he’s too stressed, and you have to get Bull to make Johnny realize that you’re perfectly fine with the rest of the men (that doesn’t stop him from wanting to kill Guarnere when he makes certain comments).
Babe: You two are the kind of couple to go out and do SUPER dumb shit together. I’m talking like riding bikes and maybe going and trespassing on federal property at 2 am dumb shit. Somehow, the two of you have never been caught. This might be why everyone calls your daughter, Jeanie, Troublemaker 2.0.
Webster: The best way to describe Web is domestic. It was like the two of you were a married couple just a month into the two of you being together. This is why the rest of the men said “You guys aren’t?” when you invited them all to your wedding. He’s a real sap, though. He melts at the way you smile at him and just can’t take his eyes off you. You’re too captivating to him, especially when you’re talking about one of his passions.
#band of brothers#band of brothers headcanon#richard winters#lewis nixon#carwood lipton#ronald spiers#bull randleman#donald malarkey#bill guarnere#doc roe#eugene roe#george luz#joe toye#joseph liebgott#joe liebgott#frank perconte#johnny martin#babe heffron#david webster
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3 - actually not sorry
Jinyoung x musical critic!reader
a lil angst, kinda funny lol, fluff-ish
Warning: cursing
Masterlist
Part One Part Two
You had all your reasons to stay mad at Jinyoung for an entire week. He had called you a hypocritical bitch after all. You hated that he acted so petty about it, without even allowing you to speak and get your point across. Not that you had to justify yourself to him for doing your job anyway, but the man just couldn’t get that into his stubborn head. You could understand he was angry. Who wouldn’t get upset after reading such brutal words? But if only he’d given you a chance to speak and explain why you wrote them, maybe things wouldn’t have gone so bad. Is this karma, you thought to yourself.
You were surprisingly sad about this whole situation, because you couldn’t help but think you and Jinyoung could’ve been something. You got along really well with each other, not just sexually but also conversationally, intellectually and emotionally. You pretty much valued the same things, and you felt like you had possibly missed out on something great. The fear of permanently losing Jinyoung before even actually having him was, most probably, your motivation to get over yourself after an entire week of wanting to strangle him. Whether you liked it or not, you had him under your skin.
You came to the conclusion that a good old confrontation was the best way out of this sticky mess. You decided to talk to him once and for all and lay your cards on the table, so you could communicate like the grown and civilized adults that you were. But there was a problem: Jinyoung was acting like a child. He avoided you like plague whenever he could. And when he couldn’t – because he couldn’t act too weird in front of the clueless GOT7 members – he threw weird looks in your direction, responded dismissively to everything you’d say, and roasted you at any chance he got. The rest of the boys found it normal, thinking that Jinyoung was just comfortable enough around you to be his overly savage self. You were the only one who knew of his hatred towards you. He was making it even harder for you to find the will to talk to him.
After a concert, you heard the boys talk about going out in the city with their manager for a visit, and you heard Jinyoung say he didn’t want to go because he was too tired. This was your best chance. You immediately went and locked yourself in your room, patiently waiting, until you heard a knock on your door.
- “We’re heading out” Bambam said when you opened. “Wanna come with us?”
- “Thanks but I can’t, I’m sorry. I got tons of work to finish and then I’m going straight to bed. Maybe another time.”
- “Okay, no problem. Good luck then” he said sweetly before turning on his heels to leave.
- “Oh, wait” you stopped him. “Are all of you guys going? I have an article to finish and I was hoping I could ask one of you some questions and get it done with. Anyone would do.”
- “Ah yep, Jinyoung’s in his room. He’s too old to go out with us” Bambam joked.
- “Great then I’ll go talk to the grandpa. Have fun out there.”
- “Thanks, bye” he said and disappeared at the corner of the corridor.
Now that you had the confirmation that Jinyoung was there alone, you armed yourself with courage and determination. When you arrived in front of his door, you took a deep breath and knocked.
- “Who’s that?” he called.
- “It’s me.”
You heard him sigh from the other side of the door. For a split second, you thought he would ignore you. But apparently, he was smart enough to understand that you weren’t going to leave him alone. You heard his footsteps approaching. The second the door opened, not giving him the chance to dismiss you again, you immediately blurted out a “We need to talk” before walking past him and into his room.
- “Go ahead, make yourself at home” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You gestured him to sit down on the bed and went to stand in front of him with your arms crossed. He stared at you, looking almost bored, waiting for you to say something.
- “You want to talk, then talk. Is it about that sweet new article you uploaded?”
That new article. The one where you showcased GOT7’s qualities and achievements. You had totally forgotten about it. At this point you almost wished it had never been published, not wanting to give Jinyoung the satisfaction of reading it. You didn’t write that article for him, but something about his amused expression hinted that he was convinced you did so.
- “No, it’s not about that.”
- “Okay, then are you going to apologize?”
It’d only been one minute and you were already annoyed.
- “No, I’m not.”
Jinyoung raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised that you hadn’t come to apologize.
- “Why not?”
- “Because I’m not sorry” you simply said with a shrug.
He snorted in disbelief.
- “Then why am I even listening to you?”
You were internally boiling up, but you held on.
- “Because I can explain everything.”
- “Oh, so you can explain stuff but not apologize?”
- “Will you stop being a jerk and listen to me?” you snapped, out of patience.
Jinyoung rolled his eyes and, once again, you feared he would ask you to leave or say something mean again, but he didn’t. He urged you to speak, and so you did.
You explained everything, not omitting a single detail. You told him that you wrote that article when you weren’t close to him or GOT7 yet. You told him that you only wrote about what you saw and your opinion on it, because that was your job. You saw that JYP Entertainment had too much control over GOT7, whom let that happen without protesting, which made them look like children under their company’s influence, at least from your point of view. You were paid to be honest, not to please the artists you were writing about. Yes, it was unfortunate that it took so long for things to reveal themselves as they truly were, but there was nothing you could do about it. You explained to Jinyoung that he had the right to be upset about it, but he also had to try and understand. You also made it clear that you didn’t write the second, more flattering article to seek forgiveness for him, but because it was the truth and it needed to come out.
The entire time you spoke, Jinyoung had his arms resting on his thighs, hands intertwined, nodding his head every now and then. He seemed to listen carefully, but you just weren’t sure anymore. You never knew what to expect from this man: one minute he’s acting all petty and condescending, the other he’s serious and attentive. He kept you on your toes, and your heart was pounding in your chest the entire time.
Once you’re finished, he doesn’t say anything, looking down, as if processing all the information you’d given. You sigh in relief, feeling a heavy weight being taken off your shoulders.
- “... I see” Jinyoung murmurs after a minute of silence.
- “Yeah, so that’s why” you say, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants.
- “Cool” he says, a sweet smile on his face. “I guess you can go now.”
Your jaw dropped.
- “Is that it? Is that all you have to say?”
- “What were you expecting? Make up sex?”
- “No, you idiot” you said, fuming. “Don’t you have anything you wanna tell me? Something around the lines of ‘I’m Sorry’?”
- “Why should I apologize when you refuse to?”
- “Because you called me a bitch, Jinyoung.”
- “And you called me a puppet.”
- “I just told you I was only doing my job!” you practically screamed.
- “You hurt my pride!” he deadpanned, just as loud.
A fake, irritated laugh escaped you.
- “That’s a ridiculous excuse.”
- “Your ‘I was doing my job’ shit is just as funny to me” he pointed out.
- “Well I’m not going to apologize, Jinyoung” you said stubbornly, crossing your arms on your chest with a little huff.
- “Me neither” he replied, imitating your position.
After a duel of looks that seemed to last forever, Jinyoung finally spoke out.
- “Fine. Let’s settle on common ground: we both fucked up real bad, and we’re even now.”
You wanted to voice out your disagreement and tell him that wasn’t fair, but you stopped yourself. It probably took him a lot to admit that he even fucked up. There was an effort from him. It wasn’t enough, but it was quite a progress, Also, you were tired of fighting. You just wanted him back in your life, somehow, anyhow.
- “Okay. So are we good now?”
- “We’re good” he nodded. “Now if you don’t mind, I want to sleep.”
He stood up from the bed and proceeded in walking you out of his room. You sighed, highly doubting the sincerity of his words. He was dismissing you again, and you’d have done all of that for nothing. You followed him, confused and disappointed. Were you about to lose him for good this time? You really couldn’t tell anymore. You were ready to surrender and apologize right now if it meant he would stop being mad at you, but before you could speak, he stopped in his track and turned to you.
- “It must’ve been stressful. Having all of that in your mind, enduring my vengeful behavior and then arguing and stuff.”
You blinked, not seeing where he was trying to get.
- “Yeah, it was... I guess. Why?”
- “I don’t know” he shrugged. “I was thinking maybe we should go to the bar downstairs and have a drink before we sleep. So you can, you know, unwind.”
You stared blankly at him for a second, puzzled. But then, something clicked in your brain and you smiled teasingly.
- “Is this your own roundabout way of saying sorry? Is this a date?”
- “Absolutely not, dear. You’re paying for your own drink” he said, walking back to put on his shoes.
He had his back turned on you so you couldn’t see his face, but you could swear you saw his ears redden.
- “Are you coming or not, before I tie these?” he asked, feigning impatience and gesturing towards his shoelaces.
You shook your head. Jinyoung was literally hopeless. But oh well, that would only be another challenge for you. After making him beg, next step would be making him apologize. And with that, you followed him downstairs, reminding yourself to always refer to this night as your first date just to piss him off.
a/n: hello and thanks for reading the Not Sorry mini-series hehe 🖤 i hope you enjoyed the story, don’t hesitate to give me feedback, i appreciate it a lot! a special thanks to the person who requested this story, i enjoyed writing it so much. 🖤
#got7#got7 imagines#got7 imagine#got7 x reader#got7 scenario#got7 scenarios#got7 fanfic#got7 fanfics#got7 fluff#got7 angst#jinyoung#jinyoung imagine#hinyoung imagines#jinyoung scenario#jinyoung scenarios#jinyoung fanfic#jinyoung fanfics#jinyoung fluff#jinyoung x reader#jinyoung angst#got7 jinyoung#got7 jinyoung imagine#got7 jinyoung imagines#got7 jinyoung scenario#got7 jinyoung scenarios#got7 jinyoung fanfic#got7 jinyoung fanfics#got7 jinyoung fluff#got7 jinyoung angst#got7 jinyoung x reader
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Kombat Krew Summertime Headcanons;
For one brief moment, the UK had some sunshine, now it’s gone back to raining and being windy. I blame Brexit. So, I wrote these whilst it was hot and finished them when it was pissing them down. The price I pay for living in the North and having beautiful landscapes, nice water and friendly locals; is that the weather will always be shit. I also went overboard for Kabal. As per.
Warnings; Little NSFW, 18+ so it’s under the cut. Kano. But it’s a shitpost. Swearing, fluff, angst, all the usual shit.
GIFS do not belong to me.
Kabal;
· Just like his mom used to say, ‘Suns out, guns out’ He will literally wear little to nothing. The littlest bit of sun, and he’s already stripped down to shorts and a vest. He’s used to the heat and fucking loves it.
· He will take you on cute dates. Walks in the park, late night walks through the city, him driving an hour to get to the best places that sells shakes and ice cream. He’s down for it all.
· He loves that it doesn’t get dark till later on, it means if he’s working a late shift, he can still spend a fair bit of time with you.
· Summer means his bike comes out of the garage. He loves nothing more than to go for a long bike ride on a Sunday. He’ll sometimes go a bit quicker, just to make you wrap your arms around his waist tighter. But your safety is his priority.
· Cute. Fucking. Picnics. He can sort of cook, but he’ll love to just lounge about with you… then turn into making out with you.
· He’s deeply into PDA, he just thinks the world needs to know of your love for each other. So, he’ll always have an arm around you, taking selfies with you and just generally being cute as fuck.
· Will rock up and take you to lunch. You can go wherever you want.
· Swimming is on the table. He’s more into teasing in the water.
· At night you’ll have to forsake cuddling for hand holding. If it’s too warm to cuddle.
· He’ll let you play with the AC. He’s easy.
· Most of the above is Pre-Burn. Post-Burn is a lot different.
· He hates his body and doesn’t want to overly show it off in Public. It’s different on Missions but in terms of casual wear. He’s going to suffer through the heat.
· So, for the sake of him, you stick to cool places or stay at home.
· He prefers winter now. And at first, he won’t take as many selfies with you, but that will change once he feels more confident.
· The body thing won’t change, people can be cruel, and he doesn’t want to put himself or you through that.
· He’ll still sit half naked at home once his confidence has returned.
· His skin is also much more sensitive and can burn very easily. So, he has to stay in if it’s too warm. Or else it will feel like he’s on fire again.
· So cold baths and cold showers are on the table. With a little bit of teasing and a whole lot of body worship.
Sub Zero (Kuai Liang);
· What. Is. This. Fresh. Fucking. Hell?
· He hates this. He fucking hates it. It’s why he doesn’t visit Hanzo a lot. Or leave Arktika. Because he hates it.
· He won’t let on how much he hates it. No. He tries to suffer in silence, but you can tell by how uncomfortable he looks.
· Whilst he doesn’t melt or feel the heat overly, he is affected by it a fair bit. If it’s majorly warm, then he’s going to mildly be uncomfortable. That, and he has hay fever.
· When he wakes up with scratchy eyes, his throat on fire and he looks like he’s just been punched. He knows summer is here.
· He does like that you wear cute clothes in summer though. It does bring a smile to his face, and if you’re happy then he can live with the uncomfortableness.
· He grew up with the cold most of his life. So, he never really got experience summer. He never really got to experience much outside training to be honest.
· So, you’ll get to introduce him to fun summer things to do. All whilst he’s worrying about the Clan because Bi-Han is in charge.
· He has a sweet-tooth, so the fact you can both divulge in that pleasure is great. He’ll love to share his ice-cream with you.
· He also likes how cuddly you get in summer. How you cuddle up to him at night, press his hands against your face, neck, back, stomach etc. He is now your personal air conditioner. And he now understands Jonny’s joke.
· He doesn’t mind. He just wants to be close to you and feel close to you. So, he feels content with this. He’ll only feel comfortable doing it in private however. PDA is not his thing.
· At night, he loves that he finally gets to spoon you. His once cold hands that woke you up, becoming a relieving comfort. He wants to be close to you. He’s so touch starved and now he gets all the touch he wants. Even deep within the night.
· Kissing him as more refreshing than all the lemonade in the world. His mouth feels cold, and breathing him in, is like breathing in cold air.
· He’ll also be more inclined to lounge around with you with his shirt off, so you can lay on his chest, back pressed firmly against him. He’s getting to keep you cool and be close to you, and you’re getting the same. He sees this as a win, win situation.
· He knows summer makes him uncomfortable, not so much so its unbearable, he still has a human side. But you make it all better for him.
Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi);
· Summertime, unlike Sub, does not bother him in the slightest. In fact, the Shira Ryu Fire garden is in full bloom. Everything looks scenic and majestic as fuck. He has to admit he’s low-key relaxed.
· Training and meditation outside happen more so for him. He detests the cold. He’ll stand with a big coat on in winter. But Summer, he can relax, and everything feels so much calmer.
· He’ll love to take you on walks through the garden. Pointing out various flora and fauna. Telling you the Japanese names of all the flowers.
· He’ll also be more inclined to take his food outside and sit with you. The both of you sat in peace, enjoying each other’s company.
· The cool summer breeze will occasionally blow hairs from his man-bun, letting them cascade and frame his face. Which makes him seem less gruff and stubborn and softer.
· Night times with him consist of a lot of tossing and turning on your part. He’s warmer than average. Which means when it comes time to cuddle, he’s making you warmer. He feels bad, but he also likes to hold you in your sleep. Like Kabal, you compromise and fall asleep holding hands, or back to back. As long as he can feel you’re close he can rest easy.
· He likes tea, but he knows this weather is not the best for a searing hot cup (Unless you’re British, then there is always time for tea), so he’ll bring you ice tea.
· He relaxes a little more in summer, his guard is ever so slightly down, and you swear you can see him smile. He has a bad experience with ice and snow, so it is understandable.
· When it’s just the two of you, he will let you make and put a flower crown on him… only if he can put one on you first.
· He’ll also be more inclined to sleep butt ass naked. So, you get that view to wake up to. Which is always a bonus.
Cassie Cage;
· Summer time is her jam.
· Lots of cute drives out with her, getting cold drinks and generally bumming about.
· It’s not often she gets free time, but when she does, she wants to spend it with you. Especially in summer.
· Swimming in the Special Forces pool. She’s sure you’re meant to swim laps in it. But you know, it is too fucking warm for that shit.
· She lives for shopping in summer. Picking out cute outfits. Not matching but co-ordinated.
· She still likes to exercise in summer. She is a fucking machine. She doesn’t expect you to wake up and run with her… but maybe if you’re awake when she gets back, you can go for a walk.
· In terms of walks, nice scenic woods and forests. Something more of a gentle walk and more relaxing than a hard-core hike.
· She is the type of person to take surprise selfies of you. Ones she prints off and hangs on the wall, with those little LED clips.
· She’ll love to sit out on your balcony or porch, talking shit over a bottle of wine and relaxing.
· Fruity fucking cocktails are the devils work and she will get wasted on them. You both will.
· Johnny always throws a BBQ. He doesn’t cook, but Cassie will always invite you around. So, you can enjoy some good food with her.
· Lots of cute photos.
· If it’s way too warm, just sat around catching up on TV and drinking some sangria.
· Theme parks are also on the cards, she loves going out and experiencing life as much as she can! And she loves the adrenaline that comes from riding rides!
· Long night drives, in which you wake up at the coast or the lakes for a surprise weekend. Consisting of walks, lounging, fishing, quad biking, swimming.
· And of course, Cassie splashing you in the sea and running away.
· A summer with Cassie is memorable and always an adventure to conclude!
Erron Black;
· He loves warm weather. Texas was warm and so is Outworld. He’s used to this weather and it’s normal for him.
· Where he is will depend on where and what you are going to be doing.
· Outworld will consist of lots of banquets, lounging around and horse riding.
· He wants to show you everything Outworld has to offer. Whether you be exploring the sprawling markets, or if you’re bathing in one of it’s not so secret waterfalls.
· You’re going to be going out at the crack of dawn and returning with the fireflies.
· He’ll love to take you to the parties and banquets that Kotal throws.
· He’ll be all over bringing you a drink over and having an arm around you.
· Dancing the fucking night away, not caring if you both suck ass at it, he will not be opposed to dancing with you.
· If he’s still in the Black Dragon, then expect lots of days out. Shopping, grabbing lunch, grabbing a bite to eat. All the usual.
· Also expect for him to cook some old recipes for you, for the both of you to enjoy out in the garden.
· At night he’ll still want to hold you, but he understands how warm it can get. He’ll also not sleep with covers or clothes on. So, what a sight for you in the morning.
· The warm weather makes him a little hornier than usual. So, there is that.
· He’s not corny or cheesy, okay maybe a little at times, but he will love to watch the sun set slowly with you. Doesn’t matter where you are, he will want to watch the sun set with you. Whisky In hand and your favourite drink. Just enjoying the comfortable silence.
· Watching the sunset turns into stargazing and him telling you all the stories of the stars and making up new ones for the ones he cannot remember.
Fujin;
· He is not a fan of warm weather. He can keep himself and you warm if you so please however! He is the god of wind after all!
· He’s not sure how to spend ‘summer’ since he’s not really ever had the chance to enjoy himself. So, he is down to follow your lead.
· He only asks for one thing. Please help him braid and keep his hair off his back. He hates warm sticky days, because it causes his hair to stick to his back. And it is his pet peeve.
· He is less versed in Mortal customs than Raiden. His time on Earth has been White Lotus based. So, he’s in for a fucking treat.
· He would love to go to something like a museum or an aquarium. If it’s warm and sunny outside, he wants to go out and experience all there is!
· He’d love to visit a museum and look at all the art, historical artefacts and immerse himself more in Earth’s culture. His eyes go really wide as he examines everything.
· Aquariums are on the list, as the ocean has always fascinated him. He just hasn’t had the time to visit. When he tells you that he’s never really been to the beach. You’ll plan a day trip there. Since looking at fish is one thing, but him actually visiting the sea is another.
· When you go to the beach with him for the first time, he’s like over the fucking moon. He loves the ocean. The sound is so relaxing, and it fills him with peace. He kind of wants to meditate but then you ask if he fancies a swim.
· He can swim but not well… so you stick to shallow waters at first, before swimming a little further out. Nothing above waist height. He’s loving it.
· Whilst he is a Demi-God, nobody else seemingly notices. So, he will sneak a few kisses here and there.
· He’ll love exploring the city with you, trying new food and sitting on rooftop terraces. He will ask lots of questions and also compliment you a lot.
· Loves camping and will always take you camping when he can in summer. He’ll tell you all the stories he knows, you’re unsure which are made up and which are true. You don’t want to know because the excitement is in the guessing.
· He’s lived a long time, and can you tell you anything you want to know.
· At night if you cannot sleep, he will maybe, just maybe, if you bat your eyelids enough, conjure up a breeze to keep you cool. Not so much you’re cold but more of a comfortable breeze. Now you can both cuddle when you fall asleep.
· Whilst he doesn’t need a lot of sleep, he does rest and sleep more than Raiden. So, prepare for falling asleep around your little campfire under the stars with him.
· Fujin needs more love and more screen time.
Kano;
· Land Down Under starts playing.
· He’s butt ass naked, parading around.
· Smells worse than usual.
· Can cook a mean BBQ.
· But nobody wants to eat his food, because of his hygiene.
#mortal kombat#mk#mk11#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat 11#kabal#cassie cage#sub zero#sub zero x reader#kuai liang#hanzo hasashi#scorpion#kano#fujin#erron black#kuai liang x reader#hanzo hasashi x reader#erron black x reader#scorpion x reader#kano x reader#fujin x reader
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Boston Boys [Part Seventeen]
Summary: After being visited by detectives, Elsa asks for some truth from Aurelie. Chris gets unsolicited advice from John, prompting him to make a hard decision.
Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC
Word Count: 2370
Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity, language, pregnancy, angst.
A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Three more parts after this. You’ve been warned.
Boston Boys Masterlist
The next morning, Elsa’s temples were throbbing. That one glass of wine had turned into a bottle and a half, plus a lot of crying. She forced herself out of bed and through a steamy, somewhat refreshing shower, then went to the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen while the hot water brewed for her morning tea.
She was contemplating some toast when the tea and medicine seemed to help her hangover, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. The detectives who had questioned her in the hospital after the bank robbery were standing at her apartment door. Elsa pulled her robe tighter around her and welcomed them inside.
“I’m sorry for my appearance, I’ve only been up for a little while, and I wasn’t expecting company.” She told them to make themselves comfortable, then went to her room to grab her phone off the charger. “Although, I see now that you called to tell me you’d be by. I’m sorry I missed that.”
“No apology necessary, Ms. Chapman,” Detective Mullins assured. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we have some leads in the investigation.”
“Really? It’s been a while since I heard anything, I assumed it was lost in the files or something.”
Detective Rose gave her a kind smile. “We try not to let these cases go if we don’t absolutely have to. As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was another significant bank hit recently.”
Elsa nodded, remembered the surveillance video on the news and the panic attack the images had induced. “I saw the report.”
“We at first thought that one or the other robbery had been a copycat of others which have taken place -- after all, your case is the only instance in which a hostage has been taken,” Detective Mullins explained. “But our forensics team has been analyzing a lot of evidence, and it seems that the same crew hit both banks. We have some suspects we’d like you to look at.”
“I don’t understand,” Elsa frowned. “I told you, they had masks on. I couldn’t see an inch of skin.”
The detectives encouraged her to take a look anyway. They placed four pictures in front of her -- four pictures of faces that were all too familiar. One in particular. Her face must have read shock because Detective Mullins was asking if she was all right.
Elsa swallowed and pointed to the picture of Chris. “I don’t recognize any of them for the robbery, but I’ve been dating this man for several months. We ran into each other at the grocery store and he -- I was crying, having a weak moment after the robbery. He was nice to me.”
Detective Rose jotted something down on a small notepad. “The Evans family has a longstanding history with the Boston legal system. Do you know about Chris’s father?”
Her throat was too dry to speak, so she nodded. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Chris’s mugshot.
“We believe that Chris took over for his father after Robbie Evans went to jail -- not only the barber shop, but the family crime business, as well. Between forensics and piecing some other things together, Ms. Chapman, we believe that Chris Evans and his crew are responsible for the robbery at your bank, the most recent hit, and several others throughout the city.”
The detectives seemed so sure, Elsa felt sick to her stomach. She dismissed it as nerves on top of the wine she’d had the night before, but less than a minute later, she was heaving into the kitchen sink. The men sat by, awkwardly waiting for her to compose herself.
“What do you need from me?” she asked, quietly.
They rose from the table; Mullins answered her. “Right now, only your willingness to cooperate, if and when necessary. We’ll keep you up to date as much as possible. I understand you have family in New York?”
Elsa nodded.
Detective Rose pressed his lips into a thin line. “For the time being, we need you in the state -- in the city, if possible. If you feel the need to leave for any reason, if you could let us know, we would appreciate it. For your own safety.”
Elsa nodded again and showed them to the door. Detective Mullins’s business card was still stuck under a magnet on her refrigerator, so she had their contact information if she needed it.
What she needed right now were answers. Honest, clear answers. She didn’t trust Chris to answer her, let alone tell her the truth, and she didn’t know the rest of his friends well enough to contact any of them. There had to be someone she could contact, someone close to Chris who would tell her what in the hell was really going on.
“Aurelie,” Elsa said out loud, going back to the table for her phone.
The diner in Attleboro seemed busier than normal for this time of morning. Maybe it was, maybe Aurelie only felt that way because she had been hoping for some semblance of privacy. She ordered a cup of coffee and sipped at it, waiting patiently until Elsa came through the door.
“Elsa,” she called, waving.
The blonde woman gave a small wave in return. She stopped at the counter to order a tea and some toast, then dropped to the bench across from Aurelie. “Morning. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure. Thanks for coming out here, especially at this hour.” Aurelie sipped her coffee.
Elsa nodded, thanking the waitress for her order. She sipped her tea and took a bite of toast. “I don’t mean to put you in the middle of any drama. I want to be very clear about that, up front. I know you have -- you have a lot going on, on your own.”
Aurelie pursed her lips. “Chris told you about the baby.”
“He did. Congratulations, by the way. I know Chris is struggling with it, but I do hope you’re happy.”
“Thank you,” Aurelie replied, giving a small smile. “Speaking of Chris, that’s what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes,” Elsa said, sipping down more tea and taking another bite of toast. She wasn’t really hungry, but it gave her a chance to gather her thoughts. “The police came to my house last night. They were asking about the people who robbed the bank -- the ones who kidnapped me.”
Aurelie frowned. “Did they find them?”
“They think maybe they did.” Elsa took another sip of tea. “They showed me pictures, even though I didn’t think I would recognize anyone.”
She stopped to gauge Aurelie’s reaction. That woman was still sipping her coffee, looking concerned, but not overly so. Elsa continued.
“The pictures they showed me were of Chris, Scott, Seb, and Scarlett. They’ve got some kind of forensic evidence from the most recent hit, they think that it’s them.”
Rolling her eyes, Aurelie pushed her coffee mug to the side. “Elsa, you’re getting caught in the middle of some bad shit. Chris’s dad is in prison -- I know you know about that. He was in some deep stuff, but Chris isn’t. Seb, Scotty, Scar -- none of them are involved with any of it. When Robbie went to prison, Chris went legitimate, with everything. It’s the barber shop, smart investments. My brother is a good businessman. He’s a good man.”
“I don’t understand. Then why are they trying to pin this on them?”
“Those hits were big hits. They can’t let them go unsolved. Chris and them are an easy pin, because of the bad choices Robbie made. His fucking mistakes are going to haunt our family the rest of forever.” The waitress came and dropped the checks on the table; Aurelie took both of them and laid out a few bills. “Chris loves you, Elsa, and from what I can tell, I think you love him, too. Loving my brother, dating him -- it unfortunately comes with some baggage.”
Elsa took a deep breath as she processed everything Aurelie was saying. It all made sense, except for one thing. “If Chris and the others are legitimate, why do you distance yourself?”
“For their sake,” Aurelie answered, without missing a beat. “I started losing my hearing when I was fairly young, and it went slowly. For a while, hearing aids did the trick. My right ear isn’t the worst, if I can look at the person and they’re speaking clearly and looking at me. The left one was always worse than the right. Sometime in middle school, I mouthed off to Robbie, and he popped me on the side of the head. I deserved it, but my left ear dropped out almost completely after that. A year or so later, I got the cochlear. Robbie always blamed himself for that, but it wasn’t his fault. His daughters think that when everything went down, I turned Robbie in out of spite or revenge. They stopped talking to me, my mother stopped speaking to me. Scotty was always on the fence. So, for their sake, to make things easier, I stayed away. I stay away.”
Elsa nodded and finished her tea. It made sense. It all made sense. It was nothing she ever wanted to be a part of, but here she was. She loved Chris. He had stood her up, but that was something she hoped they could work through.
“I’ve got to get home and get some sleep,” Aurelie sighed, pushing out of the booth. “Give Chris the benefit of the doubt, Elsa. He deserves it.”
Elsa nodded and waved as Aurelie pulled on a jacket and left the diner. She finished her toast, had another cup of tea, and then went home to get some rest. She thought about calling Chris, but decided to wait it out. He would talk to her when he was ready, she hoped.
After a long night of no sleep, Chris was finally heading home. He had let Scotty know that he and Seb weren’t going to be in until the afternoon, so at least he could catch a few hours of sleep before he needed to go to the shop.
He stopped at the corner store for a small coffee, just to keep him from sleeping all day. When he spotted John Krasinski already at the coffee station, he sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit this morning.
“Morning,” John greeted.
“Morning,” Chris returned, selecting a cup from the stack and choosing his brew. He pushed the button on the machine to fill the cup, waiting for John to say something else. But, the other man said nothing, only finished doctoring his own coffee and went to the register to pay.
Chris frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation, but he had expected more than a one-word greeting to be exchanged between the two of them. He secured the lid on his coffee, paid, and hurried out of the corner store.
“John!” he called to the other man, jogging to catch up with him down the sidewalk. The other man stopped and turned but didn’t look any more keen on the idea of speaking to Chris than Chris had been to speak with John only a few minutes ago. “Hey, have you talked to Aurelie?”
“Oh, you mean since you crashed her whole world last night?” John snorted. “Yeah. She’s -- she’s not fine, but she’s safe. How could you keep that from her? Do you have any idea how much she trusted you?”
Chris licked his lips and let out a deep breath. “I know. I know she did, and I know we may never get that back. I’m stuck, man. I don’t know what’s going on in my life and now all this shit is coming to light. I don’t want Aurelie to get caught in the middle of me working my shit out.”
John shook his head and scoffed. “It’s too late for that. Don’t you get it? She got caught in the middle of your shit the moment you decided to lie for your father about how her father died. She’s your sister, Chris. Blood, step, whatever. She looks at you as her brother -- her only brother. Her mother won’t even talk to her, but she always had you. Now she doesn’t even have that.”
Shaking his head, Chris held both hands up before letting his free hand slap back down against his leg. “I don’t know what to say to that. You’re right, she’s always been in the middle of it. When she decided to distance, I should have left her alone, too. I had to come clean, I guess.”
“Right,” John said, looking down at his coffee before looking back to Chris. “Speaking of coming clean, you know where she was up until about ten minutes ago? As much as she hates you and maybe never wants to see you again, she was at the diner in Attleboro with Elsa. She’s lying for you so that Elsa doesn’t believe what the cops told her about you and the rest of them being responsible for the bank hits and the kidnapping. Aurelie is still protecting you, as hurt and angry as she is.”
“That’s all I wanted,” Chris sighed, shaking his head, “for Aurelie to be protected. Guess I ruined that. Now she won’t speak to me and she’s got no one. And that’s on me.”
John tilted his head side to side. “You’re partially right. She won’t speak to you, and you’re the one who did that. But she does have someone -- she has me. I’m gonna protect her, I’m gonna take care of her. And our baby.” Shrugging, he took a drink of his coffee. “Family feud bullshit aside -- I’m telling you this man to man. Get your shit together, Chris, before it ruins anyone else.”
John took off towards his bar then, leaving Chris to walk the long mile home. Chris let what John had said sink in; the other man was right, of course. There were a lot of things Chris had messed up recently. The ripple effect of his decisions and actions was only beginning to show.
Chris decided then and there, he had to stop this before it went any further.
Tags: @themtbmbgirl @keithseabrook27 @ulovemelightsout @rosie2801 @professorkrasinski
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and ALSO sry to post bs on main im mostly just talking to myself in my personal tag half the time so yolo, no need to respond to this or reassure me or whatever but these days i licherally question how much of my - sry to sound like a broken record - bs is dépression or just my shité mentality, like i rly was not designed to last, huh? physically or mentally? lol. like who gets motion sickness on swings lmao anyways. i think i give up too easily. theres a bunch of reasons y but i dont feel like saying. its a different thing to kind of kno something, and to admit / speak it (confront it). i could psychoanalyze myself all day and tell u exactly why some things are the way they are but its too unpleasant to neatly state stuff like that u kno?? like... *i kno* but im not gonna say i kno. anywho, i digress. so i give up easily and kind of have a defeatist mentality too, its so exhausting lool. actually its weird cuz duality of man, i'll be rly determined / stubborn abt doing some stuff and not care abt fear of failure with certain things but when it comes to My Life / My Future i just think i cant rly do anything? i mean that literally like i got no skillz *laugh crying emoji* not particularly good at anything, and art - the only thing im maybe arguably ok at - i dont wanna do as a career, that is art therapy for me i dont feel like commercializing it. not interested in working in my major, maybe things wouldve been different if i went to culinary or cosmetology school?? that sounds fun. or if i majored in bio cuz i was so good at that, or even if i majored in japanese language or literature or idk. but no regrets tho cuz i learned a lot abt drawing in art school which i can use for myself. and hmm i like staying home and not rly going out of my way to meet new ppl so connections what? i h8 hearing how most opportunities come through the ppl u kno cuz its true and ik like 10 ppl tops so hm very sexi of me :^) i just feel like im p much f*cked and it rly doesnt help that i have no functional dreams, goals, or aspirations nor the confidence and drive to work towards anything so ah ok cool. u kno suga's songs "the last" and "so far away" ? that p much sums up my feels minus the part abt having to deal w fame obviously LOL. its so easy being a student (for me at least) but being a good student isnt really worth a whole lot in the """""real world""""" and the current education system doesnt even rly prepare u for reality or w.e like Deep Sigh also the political climate rly lookin like shité out there like hmmmmm do i even wanna try so hard to be here anymore tho??? also going back to the self confidence thing, ya idk her LOOOOL like it doesnt very much bother me tho? i really, honest to god have no idea what my redeeming qualities even are. being nice? and my mindset re - tolerance and compassion for others, etc, ya im rly proud of that actually but besides that i mean like what can i Do tho like hm im not particularly good at anything also im hideous like uglee but thats ok too like none of this Bothers me, thats just literally how i Am so ok fine, but i feel like it makes it hard for me to exist in the world i happen to be in??? and i realize im speaking with a huge bias here cuz my brain is totally out of whack im p sure if some1 saw me / read this they would lit be like um u literally do not have it hard girl, which is fair ur kinda right actually from an objective pov, probably? its amazing how um. hard? of a time my brain is having given my relatively ok circumstances but thats just how it is ig. and if i may quote shakespeare - o full of scorpions is my mind. and its weird cuz duality of man - i actually have a lot of good times w friends and whatever i have a lot of fun, im not even very Sad or in Agony its all very a mild? sensation? but that might be because my plan b is to simply *** so nothing rly fazes me anymore lool.
its usually a v confusing emotion, im either feeling happy, or if not that, very ???? im literally that duwang quote get a feeling so complicated its just "ajdjsjsja" idk its not overly repulsive and upsetting im like :s LOL u kno wat at this point idek what im even saying anymore but its good that im writing whatever cuz im gonna need to look back on this later and organize my thoughts for presentation cuz remember i have a s.o now???? i wanna let them kno so we r on the same page, and i dont feel like im tricking them, i thought it over more and there are like 4? major cards i wanna lay out on the table early on and they are 1. im not that close w my family emotionally so do not seek their approval or expect to deal with them much. 2. personal ideology / political views like im bi lmao and pro lgbt if that wasnt obvious also i dont rly wanna be around racists / terfs etc and if ur right wing or not on that respect women juice uhhh bye.. 3. my weak ass mentality how i might Maybe *** in the future like no promise but errrr theres one more but its a little more negotiable and also too early to discuss so i wont mention it but i already got the first two outta the way so ya. theres the most troublesome of all, #3. the last thing i wanna do is traumatize someone that loves me (and i love back) with that kinda thing, its too late for my dear friends whom i love, sorry i didnt kno i was gonna be like this LOL yall already got attached but its a little different with my s.o cuz i feel like its not too late to uh.... stop getting as attached LMAO like dam i've known my girls for almost 10 years whereas i've only known my s.o for like a month.
and this is totally not gonna come across right but if my s.o very understandably desides to dump me id be SO RELIEVED LIKE WOOOO ok cool cuz like essentially what i'd be saying is you are getting attached to someone who's future is not as stable as other people, including u. *huge exhale* from the bottom of my heart, my bad lol. and then i probs wont ever get involved w. a s.o again, sorry to reference snk in 2020 but remember how e*win smith is single cuz he doesnt kno when he will ***? big mood. i have never acted out on my interests before but i was like ok for once lets go off the shits and do smth ooc, i uh... didnt expect for it to actually go anywhere tho so now im like ???? i shouldve thought it through more tho, like i felt low key irresponsible af and selfish and dumb for getting involved w. someone even tho i Know how I Am like...... Also i just lov being single and staying home and chilling alone lmao like i seriously...... never get loney....
ok so what was i talking abt? how the passage of time makes me nervous cuz idk how i can manage to keep up w it??? how i feel like i cant do jack shit???? that life is hard???? and maybe a bih just wants to rest? permanently?????? i think the most irritating part of all for me, like what i am most mad about at myself is that i have no dream. yikes. naruto, do u think thats sad? well yoongi said its okay, and what counts is just being happy, so i will console myself and forgive her and idk just try my best for the time being??
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living on the edge of the law (biadore) - chapter 4 - lily2
bianca is beginning to feel something different develop and adore doesn’t want to speak of her issues and living situation, sasha is an angel and bianca’s statement of shea being an idiot only grows stronger each day.
— *.✧
Adore finished applying the final touches of makeup before jumping into her outfit, the usual look for a venue like this— like anywhere truthfully. She was beyond inspired by the grundge movement of the 90’s and loved her occasional dolled up moment but mainly stuck with her fishnets and short jean pair when performing, it wasn’t laziness like some people liked to try and point out, try and write about. It was called personal taste and not like she could crowd surf in a corset and a dress that fell to the floor.
Feeling energized she bit her lip nervously looking at the vodka she guessed someone brought her and shrugged, knowing it was just a shot and it wouldn’t too much in a state where she was probably the least drunk even with a shot in her system, she wouldn’t get black out wasted, not today— not in a while she hadn’t, not since her and her best friend had argued so awful that she got wasted and collapsed in Tatianna’s bathroom, battered.
“This isn’t like that, me and Ganja are all good now.” She smirked before taking a small shot and shaking her head, running a hand through her curls and humming to the song blaring from the speakers before using the two minutes she probably had to warm-up atleast a tiny bit.
—
“Adore!” Tatianna yelled once she got home, dropping her keys worriedly in the usual place they sat, giving her dog a quick pet and smile before focusing her attention on trying to find Adore, it was unsual for her to not be in the living room or kitchen, snacking. “Adore!” She repeated before peaning around the couch just for fun before hearing a stifling cry and noticing the light in the bathroom on.
“Adore honey—” she grumbled knowing damn well what this would entitle, she tried to open the door but it was locked. She tried one more time for good measure before knocking aggresively, “Adore please open the door, please!” The girl sniffled and sobbed, “Go away, I don’t want to talk about it.“
“You don’t have to, I just to make sure you’re okay, did something happen?” The softened voice in her tone was enough for Adore to open the door, Tatianna’s brows immediately raised seeing that she had practically cried all her makeup off and her hair was an absolute mess of knots and tangled, three entire bottles of vodka laying around, only one with any substance in it. She wanted absolutely murder Adore for breaking the one promise they had but this wasn’t the time. Tatianna opened her arms like a mother would to comfort her child, “What happened?” She asked as she stroked her hair.
“Me and Laganja…"
That was a sentence that always started with trouble, she didn’t wanna ever say anything bad to Adore about her since she knew she had her questionable friendships as did Tatianna but she had to admit in the back of her head it always a worry: Laganja was much better than she was before, now she had a medicinal card! However her temperament was always an issue. When her and Adore clashed, they clashed, head on.
“We started drinking, I know you’ll hate me but, but— we started drinking and then it escalated and we basically both broke down and I just don’t want to talk about it.” That was a pretty mellow and grey explanation but Tatianna really, really didn’t think it be the best idea to push anything out of Adore and she didn’t need to because only a minute later she was the one holding Adore’s messy hair so she could throw up in the middle of the night, in Tatianna’s toilet, of course.
“You’re a real friend.” She threw up again and felt herself cry harder, Tatianna shushed her and told her to not talk while she threw up, quickly dismissing herself for just a second to bring two water bottles, it was bad to drink all that and then throw up, she forced an ever growing saddened Adore to drink water— not one of her proudest moments.
“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow but not right now, I want you to just drink water and go to bed, please.” That was all Tatianna asked for and Adore nodded, the older girl helping her friend get up, shakily moving her towards her bedroom before she messily collapsed on the bed.
“Oh god I fucked up…” She sobbed, getting some makeup remover towelettes and wiping all her shit off, Tatianna combing through her hair, stubbornly attempting to detangle the small knots. “She’s been my friend for so long, I’ll talk to her when my head is straight.” She whispered to only herself really.
It’ll be all fine and good in a week, won’t it? That’s how it always is.“ Adore could almost laugh, her hands hanging onto her phone after she threw her dirty wipes on her nightside table, Tatianna quick to throw them away so the area wasn’t culttered.
The numbness of her entire body feeling absolutely awful as she raged in her bad, grasping her pillows and crying into them, drinking water periodically just trying to not throw up again, that would be a damn travesty.
"Hey, get some rest please, we’ll talk tomorrow."
Adore nodded, not taking her nose from the pillow and throwing herself against the bed, closing her eyes and moving around, "Okay.” She whispered back before Tatianna closed her door and left her nightstand lamp on, Adore blinking and being left with the worst fear she had: herself.
—
“Adore you’re on!” One of the employees yelled, she nodded and put her phone near her makeup bag and was on her way, definitely curious to see the amount of people and their energy, that was the important thing. She would much rather have 1,000 who were passionately screaming than 10,000 who only clapped at the end of songs. She danced across the back of the stage smiling hearing an introduction by the club’s owner, a close friend of Tatianna and Laganja’s. She peaked over and gave a thumbs up to Bianca who seemed definitely less than flattered, sipping what looked like a vodka or some cocktail, she really wasn’t one to know these kinds of things.
“Please welcome, the lady of the hour, Adore Delano!” The crowd completely screaming and erupting in nothing but applause and praise, Bianca happy to see she definitely had fans and followers but that definitely didn’t stop her from plugging her ears before Adore stepped on stage, wearing basically what she expected: fishnets, short jeans and a tank, her long hair reaching all the way to her waist, “Well hello!” She yelled, laughing over all the escalated screaming. “Jesus, I expected about fifty of you to be completely honest."
Bianca had to snicker at her selfawareness, she seemed to fit right in style wise with what the general vibe of the club was, Bianca also feeling a bit overdressed now that she thought about it but not like she could change now, she stood patiently in the stands and heard Adore yell a, "This is a new one and I’m gonna preview it here, if it sucks I don’t put it on the fucking album!” A smattering of applause and screeches.
“This is called 27 Club! I’m not 27 yet but you know, Libra season is coming.” She whispered into the mic dimly, winking at no one in particular and feeling her cheeks redden seeing all the amount of people cramming near the stage to be near her, it wasn’t anything intense or overly concerning but it was something you had to take in a bit.
The music started and Adore flipped her hair and smiled into the stand, pressing her lips into the microphone a bit to close, surprised that the crowd was respectfully quiet enough, about as quiet as a mass of drunk teenagers and adults could be but still, it was something!
“Don’t wanna be a part of that scene, I heard
Of the curses with death
My life is falling into temporary sin
Cluster of roses and baby breath”
She begun to sing, closing her eyes and imagining that place again, the inspiration glaring into her eyes clear as day from the time she wrote it, humming the lyrics on Tatianna’s couch, strumming the same three chords on her bass guitar when she was at work as Adore was left with only her music and the Pomeranian, a match made in heaven truly.
A smile formed across the corners of her lips hearing the front row lose it when she begun singing, she opened her eyes a bit, clutching the mic with both hands near the stand, her legs and hips moving to the beat of the percussion.
Bianca wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, especially being dropped into the new job from managing her own best friend for six years. Her eyes immediately sprung open hearing the first damn word she sang, maybe she was a bit too harsh to Shea in the car earlier because now piecing the voice to the face made everything seem euphoric enough.
“I been trying and I been buying
And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying
And that’s how I know”
Continuing she listened closely, getting a bit closer to the outskirts of the stage, really wanting to see the emotion and the face of Adore to the lyrics of the song, something was different. Everything was, her heart doing nothing but jumping jacks as she leaned against the pillar of the bar and smirked, seeing Adore make direct eye contact with her, she had to give a thumbs up and sit down, completely entranced.
That tone, that voice, the roughness: it was very opposite of Courtney but in a very good way, for her style of music and her look it was perfect. Setting her drink down she stared, head in her hands.
Adore grinned at the audience before she grabbed the mic and held the stand in one hand, leaning against it and almost practically throwing it into the audience who went absolutely wild seeing her drop to her knees and belt the next set of lyrics, staring straight at her audience, getting up and jumping around the stage, occasionally leaning down to give a hand to whoever could reach.
“All of the legends
Die at twenty seven
They all went to heaven
All of the legends!”
Having the power of the energy and audience in her hands Adore completely let herself run loose on stage, tossing around the stand and taking the mic, wrapping the wire around her finger as she walked around the stage, continuing to sing as she occasionally would glance at a clearly hypnotized and impressed Bianca, only further motivating her to get on the floor, on the side of the stage before sitting on her knees and letting her left hand point and do whatever she wanted to as the right was holding the microphone steady, she tossed her hair, letting the light shine in her eyes.
“Since I was eleven
All went to heaven
All of the legends
I been trying and I been buying
And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying
And that’s how I know
That I don’t wanna go!”
Fuck. Seeing her completely dominate the stage and be so confident and such a different person yet she wasn’t, she was the same from when they met but now she was in her element, doing what she loved and it showed with all the smiling and glances over to Bianca to make sure she was paying attention and god, she was.
“All of his dreams
Are in the fast lane scene
These habits go so fast, he can’t see
Baby lost his mind
Nobody gives in time
The drugs are worth it
Or so it seems.”
The lyrics were questionable definitely but Bianca’s mind more wandered toward sipping her drink, not taking a single eye off of Adore and her essence of performing. It was incredible how calm and collected she was to screaming fans as she completely sang her face off, sweating in her clothes and pushing her hair out of her face as the song’s energy increased and decreased, it was an entire rollercoaster in it’s music and plotline.
She was starting to forget all that was said and done early, the hair worked in its own wild way and she could almost feel Shea breathing on her shoulder and saying how she was right but she didn’t have a crush: she just had a new perspective on Adore and that was just as important, work and her safety came first after all.
Just remember, this is what you’re being paid to do: sit here, drink and make sure no one is on stage trying to kill her, that’s basically it.
*.✧
Adore performed for about an hour though half of it was talking to her audience and interacting, it was remarkable some of the distances some of them came to watch her, the singer wished the best and promised to come back soon, politely thanking the club managers and owners before stepping off the stage and blowing a kiss to the wonderful patrons and fans.
She stepped off and found Bianca near her dressing room and felt herself lean against the door, next to her, “So did you enjoy what you saw from me?” She expected a half assed and rude answer but was surprised at the genuine nod of her head, “It was wonderful."
Adore laughed happily, feeling like she truly succeed for herself, her fans and now for Bianca who she was beyond eager to impress already only after a day of work.
"And the fans were so drunk and supportive that the lingering smell of alcohol blocked out your dirty ass tights!” Her sharp tongue quickly adding as Adore rolled her eyes, knowing it was indeed typical Bianca talking now and not the same Bianca she saw and who let her guard down though she didn’t know her well enough to know what exactly her true personality was.
“I’m too punk to wash them, what can I say!” Bianca’s turn to roll her eyes and completely dismiss her comment before biting the inside of her mouth, “Do you have a ride or do you just drive?"
"I’m gonna take a ride from one of the girls here, I wanna stay and watch some of the performers anyway, maybe get some free drinks.” She laughed at her own comment but Bianca wasn’t exactly sold on her reply, “Be honest with me, I can drive you home."
Adore’s hands tied behind her back and she gave a very polite shake of her head, "No really, it’s okay! I’ll be nice and sobered up, well rested when I come and see you tomorrow for the paperwork stuff!” She punched Bianca’s shoulder gently before entering her dressing room and blowing her a kiss, “Drive safe! See you tomorrow asshat!” She yelled before shutting the door in her face once again.
Bianca stood plainly, her gut said not to leave but she knew it she didn’t she would also fall drunk or asleep and not be able to leave Los Angeles so she decided to take Adore’s word and trust her to stay good and that she indeed had a ride.
Walking to her car she unlocked the door and got into the car, closing the door before banging her head on the wheel, “I’m so fucking stupid!” She screamed, knowing Courtney and Shea were going to both laugh at her absolute misery and newfound emotions.
I’m basically getting income by being emotionally played around! Absolutely fucking spectacular.
*.✧
“Morning Bianca.” Sasha called from her office, barely even looking up from her laptop as Bianca gave her another large iced tea from Starbucks. “It’s from Shea isn’t it?” The Russian girl whispered with a smile across her face so pure Bianca almost wanted to flip the drink on her laptop and scream at her how bady Shea was hiding her feelings for her but she wasn’t paid enough to care, sure she was paid a large sum but until she was mobster rich she really didn’t want to do shit for anybody with a profit.
“It is! A bit invasive of a question but what’s up with you and iced tea? Not a coffee person?"
Sasha laughed and took a sip, clapping happily at the fact it was sweetened perfectly to her taste. She brushed the thick blonde hair from her face, "My dad, before I moved obviously from Russia, he owned a tea shop and I constantly would pester him about tea and the process of making it, he sold loose leaf ones, the very nice quality stuff. My mother is American and just met my dad while studying abroad but I like to keep that part of me alive because its the one thing I have from Russia besides my citizenship and flags but, nothing really connects me as good to the motherland is all."
Bianca smiled and genuinely meant it, it was a very loving and cute story even if she could feel herself throw up in the mouth a little bit it was that cutesy but definitely admirable how proud she was of the art of Russian tea— if that was a real thing.
"So how did you and Shea meet if you don’t mind me asking, you both seem close.” Bianca pulled up the chair usually meant for clients to get to sit next to Sasha, grabbing a pen just incase managers came in and they could pass it off as a discussion.
The blonde laughed a bit at her antics moving around. “I came to America just about when I was about a junior in high school, I was very lonely.” She admitted as she took off a picture of her and Shea all dolled up, must’ve been a party of some sorts. Sasha wearing what looked like a dress definitely inspired by Eastern Europe with the embroidery and tassles while Shea rocked her makeup and that damn leather yet again but in dress form! “Shea was in my European history class and then she asked me to go with her to her friend’s house, Monet, she had a grand party to celebrate the last summer before our last year."
Bianca couldn’t help but snicker, classic Shea to not mention all of this background knowledge. "The rest is history as they say."
Her words said one thing but her damn eyes, she stared at Shea with just about the most disgusting thing ever, nothing but love and admiration for her. "That’s very sweet.” Was all Bianca would possibly say without shaking the Russian and screaming about how badly Shea wanted her and for how long, it was only her second day she had to get into her employee’s good graces.
“How is Adore?” She asked curiously, not having to piece together that Shea probably told her all of their antics from the day before. “She is very talented, smells awful but she’s interesting to say the least.” This earned a light-hearted snicker from Sasha.
“I was just curious is all, I won’t take you all day so you can go and work and settle down but tell Shea thank you.” Bianca nodded, heading for the door, “Oh don’t worry, I will!” She yelled before closing it gently and walking towards her office, giving shake of the head to Shea from her office window, she groaned and mouthed: You fucking prune! Just talk to her!
Shea gasped and mouthed back a reply: You’re bold to talk, I will I promise! Bianca doubted her for every second but didn’t have the energy or willpower to burst into her office right now and talk about what just went down though it was a very nice, very uplifting start to the morning.
What she didn’t expect to see was Adore on her desk, sitting and staring at her little pinboard of pictures, locking eyes with Bianca who could only take it in and finally motion with a: “What are you doing on my desk with your dirty fucking tights yet again?"
Adore immediately jumped off and laughed, "I have more than one pair.” She quickly remarked before holding up a Polaroid picture and smiling, “Is that you two?” The picture was her and Courtney smiling widely, laughing and not even looking at the lens of the camera, both dressed fancy and arms on eachother’s shoulders, Courtney clutching an award in one hand.
She recalled the memory vividly and breathed through her nose, “Yeah. Year Courtney won best track of the year, it was a big deal and an even bigger after party and our friend, Morgan, she captured the picture because she goes around and fucks with that damn Polaroid, I don’t know why anyone would want to waste an entire gas budget on film for that thing but—” she shrugged, “Guess it was well worth it, it’s probably my favorite picture with her."
Adore was completely smitten with how honest and undeniably loving Bianca was talking about her friends or her memories, it was charming. "You’re so much more soft than you think, what’s up with your guard? Are you just scared to tell people how you really feel?"
"Whoa bitch, you’re not my fucking psychologist, don’t try and over analyze this shit. I have been best friends with her for years and am feeling a bit homesick, it’s normal, it’s not your concern.” And there she went again, raising the wall.
She dropped the papers aggressively on her desk and muttered something under her breath Bianca couldn’t catch. “I finally sat my chola ass down and filled out the paperwork like promised.” Bianca caught the slang and stopped her immediately, “Chola?” The laugher that came from Bianca was enough to make Adore smile just a tiny bit but enough to get her talking. “Yeah, I’m Mexican and a few other things, I’m basically just one huge mutt but my mom is full blood."
"You looked about like someone who was.” That earned a slap on Bianca’s shoulder, Adore not at all offended but finding it amusing. “For a name like Bianca Del Rio you can’t be making fun of me without looking in the mirror."
"Hey, my mom is from Cuba, my dad is from Honduras! I already know I would have a huge dick, no credit and that I have a tendency to take things that don’t belong to me! I am very well aware of my hertiage.” She corrected before Adore visibly easier her eyes and covered her mouth, laughing beyond words. “Holy shit.” Adore whispered before licking her teeth nervous, “So my singing was good last night?"
"It was wonderful, did you get home safe?"
Adore ignored the question, "I’m glad you thought so.” She looked around her new assistants room and tilted her head, “I think you should decorate it more, you think about painting it?"
"I really don’t, unless you volunteer tribute but I don’t know if I want you attempting to paint my damn walls, now did you get home safely or not?” Adore stuttered a bit and Bianca immediately grabbed her by the shoulders, “You’re so pretty…” Adore almost leaning in but Bianca raising a finger to her lips, “What did you do after I left?"
"Had some alcohol of course, I forgot to call my ride so I just kind of—” she sighed, “I walked until I found a hotel and slept there for the night, it was a nice hotel though!” Bianca wanted to completely melt down, how could it be the second day and already Adore had done something extremely stupid and would absolutely get Bianca fired in a second if she ran her mouth.
“Adore.” She groaned before snatching the paperwork and staring at the address which still didn’t have a damn thing filled in. “What’s going on?” The younger girl wiped her eyes and looked away, Bianca sitting her down and running a hand down her back, not really knowing what to expect from a blank canvas.
“I don’t have a house or an apartment! I live with my best friend but I just don’t wanna be annoying and I can’t live there forever you know!” She explained before Bianca wasn’t exactly sure how to reply to that. “Can you atleast for now please put the address? We can always change it and I can always help you find a house, once you start posting and making the music you’ll earn definitely much more money than you’re making now."
Adore paused before nodding, "That’s cool.” She cooperated very reluctantly writing in Tatianna’s address which was still in Los Angeles and a decent drive away but it was free living, it was her current closest thing to home after her mom freaked on her dropping out.
“Listen—” Adore said handing the paperwork back and lovingly putting a hand on Bianca’s shoulder, “I owe you for being so nice, something I’d never expect from you, last night and not just using me for the alcohol which I would’ve absolutely done, not gonna lie so I was wondering if I could take you to dinner."
"What kind of fucking date is this?"
"It’s not a date! It’s a get together dinner with my new assistant who was very kind last night to come.” Bianca wasn’t convinced about this idea, “It’s called being a decent fucking human being, I don’t deserve special treatment for that."
"Bitch it’s free food, do you always complain?” Adore raised a good point, tapping on her phone’s case impatiently waiting for a hopeful and gracious acceptance from Bianca.
“I’m gonna say no and only because I swore to see my friend tonight, it might be suprising to you but I indeed have a life outside of work!” The girl laughed to herself, Adore frowning a bit disappointed. “Do you know when they want me in so we can talk about my new album? They seemed eager enough yesterday."
"Well, I actually got an email, they said anytime this week is fine as long as you call them and tell them in advance the time you want to meet, I’ll make the call as long as you promise me no showing up in fucking fishnets."
Adore opened her mouth but Bianca held her hand out to make the deal, shutting her mouth the libra sighed, "Alright, fine you hag."
"We have a deal! Thank fucking jesus for that! I have actual work to do then so if you could be on your way that would be amazing, I know I’m your assistant but now I legitimately have to make the call. Is tomorrow around noon okay with you?”
“That’s fine, I just want some damn closure about this album is all.” She begun walking to the door before turning, staring at Bianca who opened her laptop immediately, clacking on the keyboard.
“And Bianca—” she started before the employee looked up with intent, “I like that color on you, you look hot.” She winked before laughing, earning a well deserved flip off from Bianca who cussed her out in Spanish and in English, a bilingual experience!
Adore screamed, barely understanding half of it and closed the door smiling, Bianca being left in silence before staring down at her plain gold dress and looking around, opening the notes app on her laptop and feeling her cheeks get warm.
Buy more gold dresses, just buy gold shit.
She leaned back into her chair and took a sip of her water, “Don’t even think about Rio, she is way out of your league."
#rpdr fanfiction#bianca del rio#adore delano#tatianna#shea coulee#sasha velour#courtney act#biadore#sashea#lesbian au#roza#living on the edge of the law#concrit welcome#tw drugs and alcoholism#submission
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Christmas time is always hard when you're missing someone, but Nicole is learning that distractions help.
Merry Christmas all. Or Solstice. Or whatever you celebrate. This chapter is 100% un-beta'd because I didn't get it finished in time to send to @jaybear1701 so... sorry.
Ah well.
"Aren't you done yet?" Fingertips dragged along Nicole's neck, moving aside her hair before lips pressed against her skin.
Nicole sighed heavily. "Come on, Babe. I only have nine pages left."
"You can study later." Shae's voice now had a pout in it.
Nicole shook her head, her eyes skimming over the page for the tenth time. "I'm running out of later." She tried to ignore the warmth of Shae's body hugging her from behind, the heat of Shae's breath against her skin. "Can you just give me 20 minutes or so?"
Shae exhaled loudly. "I guess… You already get amazing grades. What's one assignment?"
"You are horrible." Nicole chuckled. "I need to finish this."
"Ugh! Fine!" Shae pulled away, rising to her feet. "Just meet me at the party whenever you're done studying."
"Shae…" Nicole's brows furrowed. "Come on. It's just 20 minutes." She looked over to where Shae was tugging on her boots.
"It's always just another 20 minutes. Or you're working." She huffed, pulling on her jacket. "I… am gonna go get drunk. You have fun with your reading."
Nicole closed her book with a growl.
"Hey, Weirdo."
Nicole jumped slightly, her hand holding the pencil dragging across the half scribbled across page. "What the shit, Wynonna?"
Wynonna plopped down on the edge of the table beside Nicole. "What's the matter, Red? I thought you'd be all for ogling the cheerleaders at the Christmas game, not sitting here alone doing… ew, homework…? Do they even assign homework over winter break?"
Nicole shook her head. Waverly had invited her, but in the two weeks since the party, Nicole had been doing her best to focus on her school work. "I'm just… still trying to catch up." She definitely didn't want to focus on the look of hope in Waverly's eyes as she invited her to the last game of the year, or the bottom lip that had emerged in a pout at Nicole's refusal.
Her memories deciding to detour to that night, Nicole remembered the taste of hot chocolate and vodka on her lips and the warmth radiating from the body beside her.
"Yeah I'd rather cut off my own tit than go to one of those testosterone pits," Wynonna commented with a grimace. "How about, instead of munching down on textbooks like a bookworm, we go munch on something more carbolicious like pretzels ala going to the mall for a little jingle bell cheer."
Nicole sighed, leaning back in her chair. On the far end of the living room, a Christmas tree sparkled threateningly at her with its yuletide cheer. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a deep chasm she refused to linger in, she was reminded it would be the first Christmas she'd spend with Shae being… Nicole cleared her throat. "I'm not really in the jingle bell mood."
"Well tough shit, Ginger spice, cause mamma needs a new pair of shoes," Wynonna nudged her shoulder, "and by mamma I mean Waverly."
Nicole sighed. "Isn't it a little late to go shopping? Is the mall even open on Christmas Eve?" She tapped her pencil against the table. Her father had called the week before, left a voicemail really, about her coming home for the holidays, but she'd ignored his calls. She was still pissed at him for sending her away. "Don't you have a boyfriend?" But, maybe her father had been right about needing space, a bit of time away from everything that reminded her of Shae.
"Well, nothing official anyway. I'm trying this new thing called being single since…" Wynonna shook her head as she crossed her arms over her chest, her foot tapping restlessly against the floor. "Anyway, I need to pick up a present for the tiny terror, and I need some company."
Nicole knew there was no way she was going to get rid of her. She'd done all her shopping the week before thanks to the emergency debit card her father had given her, so she didn't really have anything she needed to get, but Wynonna was persistent, and Nicole knew she wouldn't get any silence as long as Wynonna wanted something. Blowing out a long breath, she dropped her pencil. "Why not? You mentioned pretzels?"
Nicole huffed as she dodged another shopper, trying to find the Earp that had been walking ahead, the crowd seeming to just part around her. "Dammit, Wynonna." She knew Wynonna was looking for shoes, but she had no idea where in the store that section was and the crowd full of procrastinating shoppers was grating her last nerve.
It took longer than she thought and two irritated associates later, she found the shoe department. She found Wynonna staring at shoes, a vacant look on her face. "So, I don't think that's going to fit Waverly," Nicole joked, pointing at the baby-sized combat boot in Wynonna's hands.
The voice jarred Wynonna out of her thoughts and she laughed. "I was just wondering what the hell kind of parent would waste $60 on something their brat would outgrow in like a month." Wynonna tossed it back on the display before making her way to the women's section. "I tried so hard to model Waverly's style to something cooler along my line, but you get committed a few times and it's enough time for Gus to get her decked out in cowboy boots."
"Or… maybe it's her personal style shining through. I don't see Gus in short shorts and cardigans, to be fair," Nicole commented as Wynonna picked up another pair of combat boots, these more suitable in size for the youngest Earp.
Wynonna frowned."Well, to be fair," she mocked, "you've only been around for what? A month… or whatever? I'm pretty sure I know my sister better than you."
Nicole shrugged. "True," she commented, thinking back on Waverly's style and how it seemed to bounce around from Western to overly glamorous to borderline bohemian. Nicole had also noticed that Waverly's style changed depending on who she was hanging out with. "But, from what I have seen… I think Waverly's been so busy tailoring who she is to the people she's with," Nicole picked up a not that looked more like something Waverly would wear, light tan with faux fur trim, "I think she's only now beginning to figure out what she really wants…"
Wynonna rolled her eyes, grabbing the boot from Nicole "What are you, a walking bumper sticker?" She seemed to look over the boot, her face turning thoughtful. "But, these shoes are on sale and if she hates them I can blame you. Now help me find a size 8 in this mess."
And a mess it was. It took them almost half an hour of rooting around and all if Nicole's remaining patience to find the correct size. "Okay," Nicole stretched her back out after digging through the remnants left by Christmas showers. "You owe me a damn pretzel. Hell, you owe me a dozen pretzels."
"How about I get us pretzels and take you out for a drink?" Wynonna smirked, leading the way to the register.
Wynonna tipped back the flask, taking a long drink before sighing softly as they looked over the small town. "Look at all those assholes down there."
Nicole leaned against the front of Gus's blue pick-up, her hands flexing in the fingers of her bulky winter gloves as a cold gust blew through the area. This wasn't exactly what she'd thought Wynonna meant by take you out for a drink. "They're not all assholes, just a majority of them."
Wynonna offered her flask to Nicole who took it cautiously. "I wanted to say thanks, for coming along."
The whiskey burned down Nicole's throat as she took a sip. She was glad to be out in the open after she'd been bumped half a million times by shoppers, but she wished it wasn't so damn cold. They'd been almost back to Purgatory before Wynonna had turned off the road to what seemed like a popular spot for folks to pull over and hang out. It was at the crest of a small hill, looking out over Purgatory's downtown which peeked out from a blanket of snow that covered everything.. The sun had just tucked beneath the horizon and they could see the christmas lights adorned by the main storefronts. "No problem. I've got plenty of time to study I guess, although maybe next time it would be better to shop with more time than one day before Christmas." She handed the flask back to Wynonna.
"I mean it," Wynonna said, looking out over the town. "I know it's probably not the best time of year for you."
Nicole couldn't think of what to say, so she didn't say anything at all.
"It's not really the best time of year for anyone in the house." Wynonna took a swig from her flask. "Waverly usually has trouble around now so we try to keep shit light and cheerful for her."
Nicole accepted the flask. She was surprised by the honest look on Wynonna's face. "Because of your parents?"
"And Willa." Wynonna exhaled loudly. "It's usually the worst around Christmas. Gus usually helps, but… well, we lost Uncle Curtis recently…"
"Everybody's missing pieces in this household." Nicole mumbled, taking a sip from the flask before handing it back. She could feel the heat radiating from her throat and belly, spreading through her body. "What about you?"
Wynonna's brow furrowed. "What about me?"
"You talk about making sure Waverly has a good Christmas, but what about you? You lost them as well."
Wynonna snorted. "I'm right as rain." Another pull from the flask and she sighed softly. "I'm happy if Waves is happy." It would have been more convincing if Wynonna's eyes weren't glistening in the moonlight with unshed tears.
Nicole grabbed the flask from Wynonna and put the cap back on. "Okay, enough of that. No more drinking if you're going to drive us home."
"I didn't know I was bringing the booze police along with me," Wynonna growled and looked like she was about to pounce on Nicole before headlights came around the corner. "Shit."
Nicole felt a wave of dread flood through her as the area was suddenly filled with red and blue lights, the sheriff's cruiser pulling up to the area with tires crunching over ice and snow.
"Just play it cool," Wynonna whispered as a silhouette stepped out of the car and through the headlights.
"Well, I thought it would be strange for Gus McCreedy to be parked up here." A voice came from the silhouette. "Drinking in public again, eh Wynonna?" The sheriff shined his flashlight from one to the other before he clicked it off and rested his hands on his belt, the headlights offering enough light for the early twilight. "Didn't I warn you about that before?" He turned to Nicole, tilting his head to the side. "Haught right?"
Nicole nodded, feeling dread slip down her spine. "Yes, Sir. Nicole Haught." She swallowed audibly.
"Well, Nicole, I'm Sheriff Nedley." He tipped his hat. "And I'd normally give you a warmer welcome to Purgatory, but I can see, that in your short time here, you've already fallen in with the bad crowd." He reached out and took the flask from Nicole's hand.
"I know you don't get paid much, Nedley, but I thought you were above stealing liquor from teens." Wynonna remarked, the once honest look on her face now replaced with something more antagonistic.
"Funny thing about that, Earp," Sheriff Nedley commented as he pocketed the flask. "Your use of the words teens and liquor in the same sentence indicates your own understanding of just how old you are and what you're doing."
"News flash, old man. I'm 18 now so it's completely legal." Wynonna smirked.
"Well," Nedley chuckled, his hands returning to rest on his belt. "Normally that would be true, but you see, drinking in public is still a crime. And I may be old but I do make sure to know everyone that comes into town and you, Miss Haught," Nedley turned to Nicole with a chuckle. "You've still got, what, two weeks until you turn 18?"
Nicole looked down. "Yes, sir."
Sheriff Nedley tilted his head to the side. "Well, lookit that. Wynonna, you could probably learn a thing or two from Miss Haught here."
"What, like how to hand over the evidence to the po-po instead of actually getting rid of it like anyone with half a brain would do?"
"Or, how to keep your mouth shut so I don't smell the liquor on you." Nedley commented with a shake of his head. "Alright," He moved to his car, opening the backseat door. "We've danced this dance before. No matter your age, drinking in public is a very big no-no." He gestured to the open door. "You know the drill."
Nicole looked from Wynonna to the sheriff, disbelief turning to irritation as Wynonna just shrugged at her and headed towards the back of the cruiser.
"Make sure Lonnie doesn't ding the truck when he comes to get it." Wynonna commented, tossing her keys at Nedley before ducking into the backseat.
Sliding into the cruiser, Nicole kept her eyes forward, afraid she'd act on the anger that was now flowing through her veins.
"You two must be out of your damn minds." Gus stood on the other side of the cell bars, hands on hips. "It is god damned Christmas Eve and I'm here picking you two up from jail?"
"Nedley is just abusing his power as always." Wynonna was laying on the slab, her feet propped up on the wall.
"If you mean upholding the law, then sure." Nicole was sitting as far as she could from Wynonna, her head in her hands. She was weary from the constant cold, her fingers tingling uncomfortably and she'd apparently only drank just enough to trigger a headache that was slowly creeping through her skull. "I'm sorry, Gus. I thought we were just going shopping. I didn't know Wynonna was going to..."
"Now's a good time to practice that shutting your mouth skill, ya damn snitch." Wynonna cut her off.
"Both of you, shut up," Gus huffed. "You two are lucky that Randy is in a giving mood because he's decided against keeping the two of you in here for all of Christmas."
As if on queue, Sheriff Nedley came in, twirling his keys around his index finger. "Here's the deal kids. I can either a) charge you with public intoxication and underage drinking," he said with a look at Nicole. "Or, b) I don't file any charges so that maybe you two can get into a good college, and as a tradeoff… well I need someone to clear out the old storage closet in my office before the end of the year."
"That sounds a little pedo, Nedley." Wynonna shifted and to face forward as she sat up. "Getting two impressionable, young girls in your private office to clean out your storage" Wynonna made quotation marks in the air with her fingers before standing up.
"God, Wynonna, can you please just stop talking, " Nicole growled. She knew she should have just stayed home and studied. She turned to the sheriff. "Thank you, Sheriff. As someone who actually might go to college," she cast a glare at Wynonna, "I appreciate that."
Nedley unlocked the door to let them out. "As I said, Wynonna. You could learn a thing or two from this one. Miss Haught, I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, but the circumstances are a bit to the contrary."
As they stepped out into the main station, Nicole didn't expect to see Waverly leaning against the front desk, chatting with the officer there. Hazel eyes narrowed in her direction, the corner of Waverly's mouth tipping up in the slightest smirk in Nicole's direction before turning towards Wynonna.
"Well, at least you guys waited until after the game to get arrested." Waverly laughed as everyone joined her.
"Waverly, could you please drive these two home?" Gus shook her head. "I've got to get back to work."
"Of course!" Waverly beamed a smile at Gus.
"Hey I need to get my stuff from the…" Wynonna started but stopped at Gus's glare. "It's cool. I can get it later." She held her hands up in defense. "Shotgun!" Wynonna called out as they escaped the building.
Getting to the Jeep, Nicole gave Wynonna a look before sliding into the front seat.
"What the hell, Haught? I called shotgun!"
"Get your ass in the back seat before I get my shotgun." Waverly yelled, sliding into the driver's seat, getting the Jeep and more importantly the heat, started.
Nicole pulled off the thick gloves and held her hands up to the vent, sighing softly, ignoring Wynonna's mumbling about selfish Americans from the backseat.
"You know, it's probably a better idea to stay in doors, especially when you're not used to Purgatory winter." Waverly commented as they began to head home.
"Yeah well you should probably tell your sister that."
"You should probably tell your sister that." Wynonna mocked under her breath, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.
Nicole turned and threw her gloves at Wynonna, hitting her directly in the face.
Wynonna shook off her surprise to pick up one of the gloves. "It seemed you have challenged me to a duel, simpleton. Well I accept."
"Well, first an arrest, then the proclamation of a duel. Must be Christmas," Waverly laughed as she turned up the Christmas music.
A knock on the door pulled Nicole from sleep. She hadn't expected Wynonna to actually want to duel her and she'd actually enjoyed the snowball fight that had ensued. But it left her exhausted and she'd fallen into bed early. Looking at the clock, Nicole was surprised to find it was just before midnight. Slipping from bed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm, she opened the door and blinked in surprise. "Hey.. Um… what's up?"
Waverly stood in the doorframe, rocking innocently on her heels, definitely not looking like it was almost midnight. Her red and green Christmas pajamas were still pristine and unruffled which meant she hadn't gone to sleep yet. "Merry Christmas." She grinned.
Nicole blinked again, taking a step back to allow Waverly to come into the room. "Oh, yeah. Merry Christmas."
"I'd say I'm sorry for waking you up but… I'm not." Waverly moved over to sit on the edge of Nicole's bed, revealing a thin box that had been wrapped with silver paper and a red bow. "We have this tradition of unwrapping presents at midnight so I thought it was better I wake you up than Wynonna."
"And do you normally deliver the presents to each others' rooms?" Nicole grabbed her hoodie and slipped it on before running a hand through her hair, taking a seat back on her bed.
"Well, no." Waverly smirked. "But what can I say. I'm a rebel."
Nicole had to laugh at that before reaching under her bed and pulling out a present. "Well then, let's both be rebels." She handed the box to a blushing Waverly.
"You didn't have to get me anything."
"That would only have worked if you hadn't just handed me a present."
Waverly laughed. "Point taken." But still, her fingers lingered, moving slowly as she watched Nicole unwrapping the present. "I wanted to give you this earlier. It probably would have helped, but, alas."
Nicole gave her a curious look as she opened the box. Peeling back the tissue paper, Nicole had to laugh as she pulled out the pair of gloves. They were thinner than the ones she had been using but as she slipped them on, they were much warmer.
"I thought you could use some proper gloves."
Nicole smiled. "These are perfect." Under the gloves she found a beanie, black on the outside and rainbow on the inside. "This… is pretty gay."
Waverly laughed. "Well, it's reversible so you can choose just how gay you want to be."
Nicole couldn't help flipping it inside out so the rainbow was on the outside before slipping it on. "How does it look?" Nicole smiled, seeing Waverly's eyes looking her over.
"You know you always look good, but now just very gay." Waverly's blush darkened slightly before she looked down at the present in her hands.
Nicole felt a strange nervousness as she folded up the tissue and wrapping paper, sticking it in the box which she set aside. "I um… I hope it's okay. I'm usually pretty bad at getting people presents."
Waverly spread the tissue paper and paused, taking in the contents.
"If you don't like it, I still have the receipt and…"
"It's perfect." Waverly ran her fingertips over the softness as she pulled the scarf out. It was off white, blue, and light grey for most of the length of it with exception of sections that were blue, yellow and pink, knit of the softest yarn. She wrapped it around her neck and smiled. "How does it look?"
Adorable. Nicole blinked as she took in the sight before her. "Looks good," she settled on, offering a slight smile.
"It's so soft." Waverly smiled softly as she held the material to her face. "Thank you, Nicole."
"Merry Christmas, Waverly." Nicole looked down at her glove covered hands, feeling suddenly awkward.
"We should go before Wynonna comes looking for us."
"I'll catch up." Nicole waited for Waverly to leave before she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What the fuck are you thinking?" She asked herself as she pulled the gloves off. Breathing in, she could still smell the sweet scent of Waverly's perfume or lotion or whatever it was. She reached for the picture of Shae on her nightstand, tracing the lines of her face. She had spent so much time the past few months, crying and in pain, and she never thought she'd smile again…
In the reflection of the glass, she saw herself wearing the rainbow beanie and she bit her bottom lip. God she was so confused, stuck in a ball of conflicting emotions she wasn't sure what to do with.
With another slow exhale, she returned the photo to its place before slipping off the bed, heading towards the living room where she could already hear Wynonna and Waverly bickering.
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