#IM STILL GONNA FUCKING STREAM IT. WHOEVER WANTS TO WAIT AN HOUR AND A HALF AT. LEAST

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

guess what my start date is

fuckign Guess

i got the job

[bratkook]

clairvoyant. (m) part nine.

masterlist

pairing: jungkook x reader , taehyung x reader

word count: 13k

warnings: lots of crying, mentions of sex, but nothing scandalous happens

author’s note: let me know what you think, i live off feedback and attention no cap lmaoo also this series is almost over and im upset and forcing myself to not drag it on

Jungkook is sat hunched on his bed, his feet dangling in front of him as his eyes focused on the floor. The sound of Taehyung slamming the dorm room shut made him flinch slightly, his body finally relaxing now that his room mate was gone.

He slumped back on the bed, his head nearly missing the wall behind him as he settled back into his sheets. He wiped his sweaty palms on his sweats, shutting his eyes and trying to calm his racing heart.

Taehyung had just chewed his ass out, he had been holding it in after you told him what had happened between you, Jungkook, and his stupid friend. You hadn’t meant to say anything at all but when you and Yoongi made it into your room Taehyung was already waiting there, taking note of your flustered appearance and thats when the questioning commenced. You had tried to play it down but with the way Yoongi looked Taehyung knew whatever happened had hurt you.

For the next few days Taehyung had just given Jungkook the silent treatment, ignoring when Jungkook asked him innocent questions or made small talk. Taehyung was petty, leaving the drawers to Jungkooks desk pulled out so Jungkook would ram his knee into them when he entered the room, not closing their room door fully when he left in the morning so Jungkook would have to decide if he wanted to drown out the noise of the hallway with his pillow or haul himself out of bed to shut it.

The last thing he had done was unplug his phone from the charger, successfully letting his phone die in order for the alarm to not wake him up on time for the class Taehyung knew he shared with you. Luckily Jungkook’s internal alarm had woke him up and that had apparently been the tipping point for Taehyung, his quick words and low jabs coming out and succeeding in wounding him.

Jungkook had never seen Taehyung as scary, or intimidating but the malice in his eyes as he tore him a new one made a fear creep up his spine. Never had he thought Taehyung was a violent man but when he had given him an open ended threat of not wanting to see him near you Jungkook decided that Taehyung was in fact very scary.

All the younger one could do was sit there and take it, refusing to make eye contact and silently praying that he wouldn’t get decked because even though Jungkook was buff he was also completely clueless on how to fight. His muscles were useless and he didn’t think he’d have it in him to even fight back if Taehyung swung first so when Tae stormed out it was a blessing.

A shuddering breath left him and before he knew it he was crying, his hands balling into fists as he felt the hot tears stream down his face. A small whine left his lips as he tried to get himself to stop crying like a fucking child, one of his fists slamming into the mattress beside him.

“Get yourself together.” His voice strained, aggressively wiping at the tears on his face as he sat up in bed again. His chest hiccuping and a few more tears slipping past his lashes. He had been holding that down for a while, not wanting to cry when Taehyung was there & still having some dignity left to not cry in the shower but he couldn’t sit here and act like he was the victim.

Jungkook took a deep inhale before standing up, going to his desk and swiping at his computers trackpad to see the time since his phone was lying dead on the desk. It was 7:30, Taehyung had apparently decided to become a morning person in order to tell him off.

He stared at his screen for another moment, he had half an hour to get ready for your shared class and he was dreading it. He had only seen you once since what happened but thanks to the fact that you had this class twice a week he was going to have to relive it again today. It didn’t help his nerves, seeing you ignore him entirely as you walked past his seat to go up to yours just made him want to fix everything.

Taehyungs threat still rung in his mind but considering that his friends words had been the reason he was in this predicament he decided that if Taehyung wanted to beat his ass then so be it.

He had made peace with the possibility of getting jumped by Taehyung, and possibly Yoongi as well because he seemed like the type to fight to kill if his friends needed him too.

He could feel the dark cloud of dread creeping up on him as he approached the cafe he had been avoiding, he had to suck it up and face it in order to do what he wanted. The cafe door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as he pulled it open, the warmth of the building hitting his face, the smell of coffee making him realize how much he missed his morning cup.

Jungkook patiently waited in line, his eyes peeking behind the counter and thanking whoever was responsible for Jisoo not being on the clock. He ordered himself his typical americano, ordering your drink of choice as well, an iced coffee with white mocha and half and half, something he used to get you on the regular, before making his way to class.

His phone was still lying on his desk, charging this time, so he hoped he was early enough to class to be able to leave your drink without having to actually talk to you.

When he makes it past the students huddled around the door his eyes scan the upper row, sighing in relief when he doesn’t spot you in your seat. Jungkook sets his cup and backpack down at his desk, going up the steps until he reaches the last row. Jackson is sat at his seat next to yours, a very confused look on his face when he sees Jungkook approaching.

“Sorry dude, seats taken.” His reaches over, spreading his palm over the expanse of the desk top.

Jungkook hesitates as he holds the iced coffee, “Oh, yeah I know. This–uh, this is for Y/N.” Jackson relaxes at that, his hand coming back to rest on his own desk and a smile on his face, “Damn, I don’t get one too?”

Once again Jungkook blanks and his classmate takes pity on him, letting out a laugh, “I’m just teasing you. I’ll let her know you left it.”

“Okay.” He sighs, rolling his lips together as he sets the drink down, “I’ll just, uh, leave this here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, nervously skipping down the stairs and sliding into his seat, his head immediately downcast and focusing on the shiny surface of his desk.

When you walk in its like he can sense it, his body tensing up, desperately wishing he had his phone so he could fiddle with it and not look as nervous as he feels. He spares a glance up at you when you pass his seat, seeing you with an oversized university hoodie and your hair in its natural state, your attention very clearly not on him.

As you walk up the steps you spot the iced coffee on your desk, smiling when you slide into your seat and turning towards Jackson, “Did you buy me this?”

Your hands grasp the cup, stirring the straw to properly mix the half and half into your drink and thats when you spot the black scribbling on the side. Jungkook being the name scrawled into your cup and you freeze.

“You wish I bought you coffee.” Jackson jokes, “Freshman dude got it for you.” He points down at Jungkook and he can feel the back of his head burning from the attention. This was a bad idea, why did he do this?

Your heart betrays you as it swells in your chest but you’re stronger than this, only letting yourself take a tiny sip, okay a gulp, before getting up from your seat. The ice in your drink rattles together as you clench it on your way down the steps, the class is filling up but the professor hasn’t walked in yet so you don’t draw attention to yourself.

Jungkook holds his breath when he hears your shoes against the floor, seeing you appear from the corner of his eye and he thinks you’re gonna talk to him but you keep walking until you’re stood by the teachers desk, right in front of him.

Thats when he properly looks up, his eyes widening when he sees you staring straight at him until you look down at the trashcan by the desk and drop your drink into there with a wet thunk. Your eyes meet his again and see the clear sadness in them, but again you’re stronger than this. A fucking iced coffee is not going to be his method to fix this, he had hurt you and if he wanted to make amends he was gonna have to try harder than this.

Jungkook crumbles under your stare, choosing to focus on his hands fidgeting on top of his desk as you went back to your seat.

Jackson sat there slack jawed, turning to you with wide eyes when you sat back down, “I fucking knew you had it out for him, you still sure you don’t want me to set him straight?”

Jungkook hears that too, sinking further into his seat and thanking his luck that the professor chooses now to walk in, saving him from having to hear an answer to Jacksons question.

The rest of your day continues without a hitch, the practice exercises you had to do in your lighting studio class taking up your brain and letting you forget about the coffee dumping incident of this morning.

You exit your building and your hair gets swept up by the cold wind, your hands wrapping around it and holding it down. Taehyung spots you rewrapping your scarf and pushes off the building he was resting on, he was absolutely freezing as he waited for your final class of the day to end but he had grown to like seeing you at this hour. He approaches you, his smile hidden behind his own scarf but the way his eyes crinkle up let you know he’s grinning at your struggle. 

When he reaches out and grabs the ends of the scarf you give up, letting him wrap the material around your neck twice until its fully protected from the cold air.

“Thanks.” You mumble out, accepting the kiss he gives you and smiling when he lifts up the edge of the scarf to cover your lips.

“You’re welcome, how was class?”

He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pack of hand warmers, giving you one that you clutch onto as he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for extra warmth.

“Good, every time I leave this class my love for natural lighting grows. I fucking hate soft boxes, like I get it, totally essential or whatever but nothing and I mean nothing will ever top the beauty of golden hour.”

Taehyung chuckles at your mini rant, another smile spreading across his face when you wrap both hands around his waist and give him a gentle squeeze. The position has you both waddling awkwardly towards your building but he doesn’t care.

You had yet to clarify what your feelings meant but Taehyung didn’t care, he was a patient man, especially when it came to you. He had told you how he felt and now the ball was in your court, whatever you chose to do with that information was okay with him but with the way you’re holding onto him like you don’t wanna let go, you don’t blame him for hoping you want the same as him.

“Golden hours when the suns kinda setting and everything is like glowing almost right?”

You hum against him, your chin resting on his chest as you look up at him and smile, “Yes, exactly right. The prettiest almost magical portraits come from that lighting.”

He grins right back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Teach me how to take photos one day, I wanna take a pretty almost magical portrait of you to make it my lock screen.”

He had been saying things like that often now and it just made you blush, not used to hearing Taehyung say such mushy cute things, the cute things you were accustomed to him saying was him calling you a twinkie as he stared at his cum leak out of you. It definitely took some getting used to, for sure.

“Sure, maybe you can replace the canvas of your ass with a picture of me instead.”

He laughs loudly as he remembers something, “I just might, Namjoon finally told me I had to cover up my ass or take it down because one of the students complained when he saw it one day. I currently have some post it notes over my butt cheeks as a compromise. I’m sure a photo of you would be nicer to stare at too it’ll give Jungkook a nice reminder to back off.”

You separate from him as you both enter your building, waving at Joy and entering your elevator, his hands being quick to grasp yours almost as if he just needed to keep touching you. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat awkwardly, leading the way out of the elevator and towards your room, “I kinda...went off on him this morning?”

You gasp at him as you open up your door, waving at Wendy as you both step inside and start taking off your scarves and coats, “Taehyung, why?”

He gives you an innocent shrug, getting comfy on your bed and patting the space beside him so you can snuggle up, which you immediately do, “Im sorry, I was pissed okay. Theres no excuse for what him or his friends did and he has to know that acting like that is gonna get him his ass handed to him one day.”

The groan you let out just makes him laugh, especially when you bury your head on his chest. He wraps his arms around you, fingers raking through your hair as his eyes meet Wendys, shes smiling as she works on her laptop and he smiles back at her before looking back down at you when your head peaks up again.

“Is that why he did what he did this morning.” You speak more to yourself but Taehyung frowns, “What did he do?”

“Okay relax,” your hands pat his chest, “he just bought me an ice coffee. Left it on my desk, didn’t say a word to me, I threw it away in front of him though.”

“Did he seriously not get it?”

You sigh as you sit back up, reaching over for your laptop in order to pull up netflix for you guys to watch something, “I’m sure he got it loud and clear now.”

Jungkook had in fact not got it loud and clear. In his defense this was the only thing he could think of doing that didn’t involve going up to you out of class and risking getting jumped, sure Jungkook was dumb but not dumb enough to believe he could take on Taehyung and Yoongi.

He had tried reaching out to you via text message but when his usual blue bubbles had turned green and never stated they were delivered he realized he had officially been blocked. You had also gone ahead and blocked him off your instagram as well, the only way he knew what you were up to was thanks to Eunwoo, the only one of his friends who was sympathizing with him.

So for the time being iced coffee was his way in, his pockets were hurting seeing you continue to toss drink after drink away in the trash but when the third time came around and you didn’t stomp down the steps and Kobe your drink into the trash in front of him he felt like he was making some progress.

Until class is dismissed that is. You were prepared, having all of your things prepacked and ready so when your professor let you go you could bolt right after him.

You had the drink in your hand, the majority of which you had consumed because you were a fiend for caffeine, your bag was thrown over your body haphazardly as you took the steps two at a time to match Jungkook’s pace.

He was halfway out the door when you reached the bottom, chasing after him as he made a sharp turn and continued down the hallway. You probably looked like a psychopath as you hunted down a giant freshman but you didn’t care.

He was completely oblivious to you as he exited the building, thinking he could relax when the fresh air met him and thats exactly when you pounce. Your finger coming out to jab him in the arm and he lets out a small yelp, his heart kicking up when he sees you step in front of him and the look on your face is not the one he had been expecting.

You’re breathing heavy from having to practically run after him, the plastic cup being crinkled in your grasp and he stares at it, trying a smile out when he sees that you had drank it.

“Stop this.”

Jungkook looks up at you again, his eyes wide in the classic Jungkook way and you have to look away, instead focusing on the center of his nose to not let his eyes sway you, “I just–“

“I didn’t throw it away today because someone told the professor I was dumping liquid into the trash and I’m not trying to get in trouble because you don’t know how to fucking act.”

Just as he thought he had made progress it all falls apart in front of him and his expression pains you, the look of utter defeat on his face hurts you.

“Im sorry, I’ve tried reaching out but you blocked me on everything.” He says the words so quickly, scared you’re going to cut him off again before he can speak.

“Of course I did Jungkook, you hurt me. I don’t want you to reach out. Don’t be simping over a slut like me, right?” You drop the iced coffee on the floor between you two before walking off, the cup stays standing up and thankfully not splashing all over his shoes and pants.

Jungkook just stands there, his cheeks turning red when he notices the attention he’s getting from the students that were walking by. His hand comes up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, bending over to pick up the cup and dispose of it before he’s speed walking with his head down, no destination in mind.

There really was no way out of this for him, he wished he could be more assertive, confident even when it came to talking to you. Maybe then he would be able to properly explain himself before you cut him off and threw words in his face that he swore weren’t true.

Jungkooks chest ached, the seed of a crush that had burrowed its roots was barely hanging on. He was trying to keep it in tact but you and his friends had taken to digging and stabbing the soil surrounding it and now he was the one hurting.

He walks deeper into campus, arriving into the makeshift lounging area, a bunch of benches and tables set around with trees and plants scattered in between. Jungkook deems this spot is fine enough and hunkers down into the ironwood bench, his body hunching over as he rests his elbows on his knees with his head hanging low.

His eyes are shut for a minute or so, the small chatter of students around him filling his ears, the crunching of leaves being heard approaching him, and then the sound stops in front of him. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, cracking an eye open and seeing a pair of tan strapped boots a few feet away from his, and thats when he lifts his head up and meets the blank stare of Yoongi.

The older one is stood there, a beanie on his head and his bag strapped on, an unreadable look on his face that only makes Jungkook nervous. Had you told Yoongi that he had bought you coffee and now he was going to get jumped? On campus? Really?

“You know,” Yoongi starts, his sharp eyes looming over Jungkook, taking in his appearance and look of pure sadness, “I’m normally a really understanding guy but I can’t for the life of me make sense to how you fucked up so badly.”

Jungkook can only swallow, not entirely sure where this conversation was leading to. Yoongi didn’t seem pissed, but he was usually really good at holding a pokerface.

Yoongi had been walking around campus, killing time between classes when he stumbled upon Jungkook looking like a wounded animal on the bench. He knew Jungkook had hurt you and if you didn’t want to give him the time of day anymore then that was your call, Yoongi being as observant as he always was, knew there was more to whatever the fuck happened. He had grown a soft spot for the kid and the time they had spent around each other let him see that what happened between you two was so very out of character for Jungkook.

He wanted to figure it out, blame it on his boredom or his love for problem solving, but he also knew that Jungkook most likely couldn’t talk to anyone right now so he also wanted to do this for him.

“Are you here to kick my ass?” Jungkook mumbles out softly, his mind already accepting defeat.

Yoongi frowns, “What? Kick your ass?”

When Jungkook nods, suddenly flinching when Yoongi starts to laugh, “You really think I could kick your ass? Thanks man.” Jungkook cracks a smile, letting himself relax now that he knows he knows Yoongi isn’t a physical threat. “Where are your friends?”

Yoongi ruffles his messy hair and readjusts his beanie as he waits for an answer, Jungkook sighs, rubbing his palms down his pants, “I don’t know, haven’t really talked to them much lately.”

After that evening Jungkook had distanced himself, it was the first time he ever raised his voice and Mingyu never expected it. He had only stayed in constant contact with Eunwoo but because his friends had formed their friendship before Jungkook joined the bunch he just felt it was best if he was the one to step back. He wasn’t sure if it was temporary or not but he wouldn’t be going back to acting like buddies unless something was discussed.

Yoongi hums, his hands gesturing to the spot beside him and Jungkook nods, reaching over and grabbing his bag to plop onto the floor by his feet. Yoongi chuckles to himself at the motion as he sits, how Jungkook was always so quick to accommodate for friends, and that’s exactly how he knows what he had done was very much not Jungkook.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened between you and Y/N?”

Jungkook gulps at the question, his heart not ready to rehash this again with Yoongi of all people, would he run to you and gossip over whatever he said?

“I mean you saw it all happen.” Jungkook mumbles out, referring to that evening when his group ran into you and Yoongi.

The older boy sighs, resting his elbows on his knees to lean forward slightly, his eyes focused on the hedges a few feet away because he knew Jungkook would squirm if he stared at him. “No, what I saw was your friend be a douchebag and Y/N telling you off. It feels like I’m missing a pretty big chunk of the picture.”

He can feel Jungkook fidget in his seat, his thighs rubbing against Yoongis as he tries to readjust himself. Jungkook feels like hes sat in front of the principles office after getting in trouble at school except Yoongi is far more terrifying than any school principle, even as hes sat there patiently waiting for Jungkook to say his half.

He just groans softly, his palms coming up to cup his eyes in shame, dropping back onto his lap as he leans fully against the bench, “I was an idiot, thats what happened.” Yoongi hums in agreement and Jungkook isn’t even offended at that, his mind being made in telling Yoongi everything he hadn’t been able to tell his friends. His friends hadn’t known that you were helping him with the girl problems he swore he had, his friends just thought Jungkook was swooned by you, his mind fixating on the relationship you had with his room mate and forming that into a mindless crush.

But he tells Yoongi all of it, tells him about the cafe meetings and text messages, leaving out details of any sexual activities you did but he admits to hoping his date with Jisoo didn’t work out because you were the one thing constantly on the back of him mind. How he had let his dumb friends influence his thinking when all he had wanted to do was come clean to you.

“I like her, so much Yoongi and I fucked it all up and the worst part is she thinks I saw her as this object I wanted to obtain but fuck–“ his eyes look up at the sky, frowning at the grey overcast, “theres no saving it is there?”

Yoongi licks his lips over as he stares at him, the distraught look on his face shows how sincere hes being and Yoongi doesn’t doubt him. He had been telling you about Jungkook’s feelings before this had all crashed and burned and its because he saw the way Jungkook acted around you compared to the moments he’d see him in passing.

“If I’m being honest, I think there was still a chance until you sealed the nail in your coffin when your friend called her a slut and you said nothing to defend her.” He shrugs at the expression on Jungkooks face, “Y/N’s stubborn, and I know she acts hard but if you really want to try to make this better no one can help you but you. I’m not going to give you tips or pointers because she’s my friend and if she wants you to keep your distance I’m going to respect that.”

Jungkook sighs with a nod, “I’ve brought her coffee these last few classes and she kept throwing them away and today she yelled at me for it.”

Yoongi laughs and Jungkook finally looks offended, a pout forming on his lips, “Dude really? You’re trying to buy her attention with coffee?”

“No thats not what I’m doing.”

“Hm, kinda is man. Have you tried not bolting out of class and going to talk to her like a human being.”

When Jungkook looks embarrassed at the realization that you had told your friends of his olympic worthy bolts Yoongi just laughs harder, his hand coming out to shove his shoulder playfully. He’s pulling out his phone, seeing the time and getting up, “I gotta get going to class but its just a suggestion, or you can talk to her out of class. These aren’t tips though, I swear.” He raised his hands in front of him before giving Jungkook a wave and walking away.

Jungkook waves back and sags into the bench when he’s gone, his hand coming up to ruffle his hair and he finds himself grinning for the first time in a while. If Yoongi told him to try then maybe he still had a chance.

It’s not until a few days later, on the last Saturday of the month, that you realize you might need to speak to Jungkook. You’re sat at your desk at work, organizing files in their respective folders, you’re grumpy and anxious since today is the day where you would have to be Jimin’s plus one at his parent’s event. You love Jimin, really you do, but you’ve been to a handful of these events with him over the course of being his friend and his parents were not shy to lay on the back handed compliments and sly digs to get under yours and his skin.

The thought of having to be in a stuffy dress, surrounded by people all of which were insanely more financially stable than you could ever dream to be, trying to make small talk and going along with whatever lie Jimin decides to throw into the mix was making you irritable and your hands clammy.

“Okay, what’s your deal.” Yoongi challenged, his hands slamming down onto his own desk with a loud slap. He was officially fed up with you, having to hear the small remarks you let slip under your breath at literally anything he did or said today was pissing him off because he had done absolutely nothing to you.

His harsh tone snaps you out of your small grumpy haze, a pout forms on your lips as you sink into your chair and slowly spin to face him. The way you look in your chair cracks him, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees the dramatic change in emotion, “Are you on your period or something?” He teases.

That makes you sit up straight again, the scowl returning on your face as you stare him down, “I’m going to ignore how demeaning that question is, but for your information no, I’m not due until the 22nd you asshole.” You let your head hang back over the chairs headrest, the thoughts of the awaiting night flashing through your head, “I’m just dreading having to go help Jimin fulfill his wish of making his parents stare at us in horror.”

Yoongi hums at that, a curious look on his face as he just waits until you lift your head back up to give him another glance, “What?”

He only gives you a shrug, his eyebrows raising up softly as he sneaks a glance at the calendar icon on his computer screen that says its currently the 28th, “The 22nd huh?” That doesn’t give him a reaction at all, your mind was whirling too much from everything consuming your life so it doesn’t register, “Y/N, are you with child?”

That gives him the reaction he was hoping, your eyes bulging out as you whip back around to grab your phone from its place beside the computer. “Shut up,” you choke out, your now shaky hands unlocking the device and going directly for the period tracking app you had, the loading screen taking its sweet time until it finally opens up. The small dot on the circle calendar that shows your typical ovulation cycle and period cycle is now hovering a little past the date you were supposed to be starting said period.

“Oh god, can you imagine the offspring you and Taehyung would create, demon child I tell you.”

You only give him a weak laugh as you lock your phone again, late periods were fine, it’s not like they never happened to you before. Plus you were on birth control, always on top of making sure you took it at the same exact time everyday, even taking the placebo pills to not fall out of routine. But that sinking feeling still lingers in your gut, the realization that you and Taehyung actually hadn’t slept together since the night he asked you out on a date, how he had used a condom and finished on your face. Then comes the small flashes of the two mistakes you made on halloween night, fucking Jungkook without a condom and begging him to cum inside you.

“Yeah.” Is all you can muster out at his comment, he takes note of the forced smile on your face and can tell you’re starting to panic a little and he’s not sure why since the amount of times you’ve let Taehyung bust inside you has lead to one other pregnancy scare before. But when your now glassy eyes come back up to look at him, his own face falls, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Was it Taehyung’s?

That same question haunts you the entire night, as you get to Jimin’s apartment and finish getting ready with him, the both of you decked out in expensive outfits that are down right insulting, not even him joking with you as you got into the car was enough to get you out of your head.

Jimin takes note of this, more so when you both arrive at the event, the way you cling onto his arm like you do during these things is normal but the way your eyes focus on the floor or chandeliers with a spaced out look on your face is not the norm. 

The way you float along side him as he talks to the majority of the people here, this being one of the rules his parents give him that he respects, you barely speak up. Its a stark contrast from the way you two usually behave at these events, he’s used to the way you add on the small white lies he tells, how meeting new people was exciting because you could come up with a brand new scandalous story on how you two met. Jimin refrains from that today, the spacey look on your face only making him worry.

It’s not until two of the shareholders he’s currently speaking to, out of formality, start to give you weird glances, possibly wondering if you were under the influence of something from how out of it you looked, that Jimin respectfully excuses the two of you.

His arm wraps around your waist as he leads you towards the hallway, out of earshot from the nosey guests here and the way you let him drag you away without any complaints only worries him further. When the soft music no longer reaches your ears you seem to come back, your eyes blinking as you focus back in on where you are, seeing Jimin stood in front of you with his hands on your shoulders as he presses you against the wall gently.

“Are you on anything?” He asks softly, his head peaking down to stare up at you, your eyes aren’t hazy anymore but its clear your mind still isn’t fully tuned in, “Y/N, you gotta let me know if you took something ‘cause you’re kind of scaring me sweetheart.”

His hands come up to cup your cheeks, turning your face up to properly look at him and something about the way he stares at you, worry  clear on his face and his lips pursed in concern, snaps something inside of you. Your eyes well up with tears, your lower lip trembling slightly as your face crumbles, hot tears spilling past your lashes and splashing against his hands still on your face.

“Jimin, I’m so fucked.” You garble out, the confession only making you cry harder which in turn makes Jimin even more worried. A few people attending the outrageous event pass you two in the hallway, giving you an odd glance but Jimin just glares at them, moving his body to cover you properly as you have a breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” His mind is desperately trying to remember if he saw you take anything, maybe you had drank something spiked, it could be a combination of things. “Did you drink too much champagne?” He tries to make light of the situation but his words only make you grip the lapels of his suit and tug him closer to you, burying your face into the black material.

Another sob leaves you, his hands wrapping around your body and holding you close, “Jimin.” You whine out, your voice sounding so broken and helpless and he knows something more serious is wrong. He glances behind him, into the full room, everyone mingling around with glasses in their hand and he spots his mom, grasping another flute of champagne as she stares directly at him and you.

She has the ever present disapproving stare on her face, watching her son holding you as you cry in a hallway. A few of the guests had jokingly mentioned your behavior to her in passing and the last thing she needed to hear was that her son and you were currently on drugs.

Jimin watches as she shakes her head and makes her way to another group of people, his jaw tensing at her judgmental gaze, “C’mon, lets get out of here.” He speaks to you softly, his fingers patting your head to get you to calm down, your breath hiccuping until you even it out slowly.

“O-okay, I’m sorry.”

He shushes you with a smile, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the back entrance of the building, “No, don’t be, I’ve been wanting to blow this joint for an hour now.”

Jimin knows he’s going to get the lecture of a lifetime for leaving but a couple of threats about his money being taken away seemed less important than his best friend having a mental breakdown. You let him drag you along the hallway, your other hand wiping underneath your eyes to try to fix your appearance any way you could.

By the time you two make it outside Jimin had already messaged the driver his parents had provided him with for the night, the black car already being parked out back. When you slip inside Jimin just asks him to take you both home, his fingers pushing the button to bring the partition up and you sink into the seat, avoiding his gaze.

The carpeted floors seems infinitely more interesting than you admitting to why you were absolutely losing your mind, you didn’t want say it out loud, scared that letting the words fill the air would somehow make them truthful. If you actually were with child like Yoongi had so kindly put it you wouldn’t know what to do, this had happened once before with Taehyung but you had gotten your period before you were even able to take a test so it had become kind of a joke.

But this, yeah this wasn’t funny, the possibility of being pregnant after sleeping with Jungkook when you two weren’t even talking any more was a nightmare and nothing could make this a laughing matter.

“You fucking scared me.” Jimin admits, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward in his seat, the layout of the car letting him directly face you. “Thought you took too many downers, you looked so out of it.”

You finally look up at him, your eyes red and burning from your tears and the mascara that bled into them, your cheeks are puffy and streaked up, a frown on your face when you see how sincere he looks. You hadn’t meant to scare him, you didn’t even realize how you were acting and the way anyone would perceive it. “I’m sorry.”

He waves off your apology, he didn’t need it, he was just relieved you had stopped crying, “Tell me what’s wrong.” Jimin watches as you chew on your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting on your lap as you give him a lame shrug. He stays silent, not wanting to speak until you fess up.

“I think,” You start, taking in a deep breath while your thumb scraped the nail polish off your index finger, “I might be pregnant.”

Jimin, much like Yoongi, knows how to keep his reactions in check, his face doesn’t move a muscle while he stares at you thoughtfully. His mind however is currently freaking out, trying to flick through any possible response he could give you that won’t end up making you cry again.

“Have you taken a test?”

Shake.

“Okay, have you told Taehyung?”

The silence that fills the car at his second question lasts for what seems like forever, the way your face twists up at his name, your eyes once again filling up with tears as you stare at your best friend. That same unspoken question hanging in the air.

Was it Taehyung’s?

Jimin doesn’t need you to answer it, the look on your face is confirmation enough, your words inside the event and the way you clung to him as you cried was more than enough. He brings the partition down a crack and tells the driver to stop at a convenience store nearby instead, telling him to drop you guys off there and that you’d walk home since his apartment wasn’t far from there.

The pair of you must look like a sight, Jimin dressed in his black Armani suit while you stood in a black Alexander McQueen dress he had forced you to wear, it would look picture worthy if your under eyes weren’t caked in mascara and you weren’t standing in the aisle that held pregnancy tests. Jimin hovers beside you for a moment as you stare at all the different options, stepping aside for a minute only to come back with a small green basket that was full of different things.

You’re clutching onto a pink box that promised to let you know 6 days sooner, your eyes glancing down at the basket he held, “What’s all that?”

He lifts it up higher with a smile, “Well, tissues and your favorite comfort snacks in case you...you know,” he gestures with his hand, also not wanting to speak the cursed words out loud, “and alcohol to celebrate if you’re not.”

As you stare at the items you feel the urge to vomit out of nerves, the possibility of not being able to celebrate is very probable. Your hand clutches the box with more force, bending the cardboard material slightly. Jimin reaches out and peels it out of your grasp, taking it upon himself to reach past you and grab two more tests from different brands and stuffing them in the basket as well.

“I think you should call him.”

Thats all he tells you, a sympathetic smile on his face as he walks around you to go pay for everything, leaving you in the middle of the aisle. The lump in your throat is back again, your hands twitching by your side at the thought of having to talk to him. As much as you don’t want to see him, or talk to him, you know Jimins right. In the off chance that you were...you know... it would make sense to have him there, he was partially responsible so it wasn’t fair that you’d be the only one suffering through this.

With much hesitation you reach into your small crossbody purse and pull out your phone, the screen lighting up instantly and showing you the recent messages Taehyung had sent you, asking you when you’d be home from the event along with an invitation to watch movies at his dorm since Jungkook wouldn’t be there.

When you read his name your brows furrow, why wouldn’t he be there? If he was out with friends would he even want to talk to you, would he even care, the Jungkook you knew before would but you weren’t even sure if that was still the case. You opt for sending him a text, simple and to the point, it would give him the option of reading it and responding instead of having a forced conversation on the phone.

You unblock his number and open up your thread of messages, not being able to delete the entire thing after blocking him. After sending the message you lock your phone and stuff it back into your bag.

Y/N 11:28pm We need to talk, it’s important.

On the receiving end of things Jungkook is stood in the backyard of a party Eunwoo had forced him to go to, his room mate Moonbin was currently trying to force him to chug whatever concoction was in his cup.

“No, I’m good–“ Jungkook mumbles against the plastic, Moonbin not caring as he tips the cup up, the cold liquid hitting his lips as he squeezes them shut, spilling out and down his face, successfully soaking his shirt in the strong liquor.

Moonbin just laughs, pulling the cup away, his eyes looking at the large wet patch on Jungkook’s chest, “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes, playfully shoving his friends shoulder while Jungkook shakes his head, “It’s alright, I’ma just,” he motions his hand towards the house again, the both of them nodding in understanding.

Jungkook slips his way in between people, a small grimace on his face as he feels the way his shirt now sticks to his skin as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He didn’t know why he agreed to come to this party, he didn’t hate parties, but he was used to going to them with your group. They seemed less intimidating when he was surrounded by seven extra people, and as much as he liked Eunwoo and Moonbin, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable in this environment with them.

When he manages to get into the bathroom, luckily not occupied by lovers, he grabs a fist full of toilet paper, peeling his shirt off of his chest and wiping the excess moisture from his skin. His white shirt is officially ruined, stained a faint red color and reeking of–his lifts it up to his nose and sniffs–vodka he thinks?

After tossing the soiled napkins he rests against the sink, fishing his phone out of his pocket to glance at the time and when he sees your name flashing on his home screen he momentarily wonders if he had in fact drank the poison Moonbin has spilled on him.

You messaged him. You had unblocked his number. You wanted to talk, and apparently it was important.

He slides the message open, his fingers hovering over the screen as he thinks of how to properly respond. A loud bang comes from the door and he flinches, “Hold on!” He shouts out, typing out a one words response of where before hitting send and exiting the bathroom.

Jungkook ignores the man stood by the bathroom door, shoving past him and through the bodies of everyone in the living room as he heads for the front door. He doesn’t bother letting his friends know that he’s leaving, already out of the house and walking down the street of a neighborhood he wasn’t familiar with.

His phone is clutched in his hand as he walks, the two short vibrations making him pause as he brings it up to his face, seeing you tell him to meet you at Jimin’s as soon as he could.

You’re sat on Jimin’s couch, your phone resting on his coffee table, the screen lit up after you read the message Jungkook had sent ten minutes ago, confirmation that he was on his way. Jimin was stood in his kitchen, trying to occupy himself while the both of you waited, he had been opening and closing his cabinets and rearranging whatever was inside them for a few minutes now, the constant slamming of the wood would normally get to you but right now your eyes were just glued on the three tests resting beside your phone. They were still in their boxes, you could have taken them before Jungkook got here but you didn’t have it in you.

So when you hear three brisk knocks coming from Jimin’s front door you shoot up from your spot, ramming your shin on the coffee table in your haste to get to the door. You bend over with a groan, clutching your leg in pain while Jimin beats you to it, opening the door with a gentle greeting.

His face scrunches up when he catches a whiff of Jungkook, his hand waving in front of his face as his eyes catch onto the wet spot on his shirt, “Fun night?”

Jungkook looks down at his shirt as well, “No, not really.”

He steps inside and spots you stood by the couch, not exactly sure how you should greet each other. He takes notice of your outfit, the black dress looking elegant on you even without your heels on, and he briefly remembers you mentioning the event Jimin needed you to come with him to, “You look nice in that dress.” He can’t stop himself from complimenting you, even though it makes you squirm as you stand there.

You ignore the compliment entirely, rolling your lips together as you take a look down at the coffee table, reaching for one of the boxes and holding it close to your chest. Jungkook follows the motion, his head tilting slightly until his eyes decipher whats written on the box, “I might be pregnant.”

It takes him a minute, his mind wondering why you could have possibly text him to come talk about this, and then he’s also remembering the two dreadful mistakes that happened halloween night. The way he had no complaints about fucking you raw, the idea of cumming inside you spurring him on and he can’t believe he had let himself act that stupid.

Jungkook takes the few steps necessary to reach you, standing a foot in front of you with his eyes wide in that same classic Jungkook way, “Have you taken it yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you to get here.” He watches as your face grimaces, your fingers pinching your nose as the stench of vodka hits it, “You reek, are you drunk?”

He shakes his head immediately, his fingers pulling the damp fabric again and Jimin takes sympathy on him, pushing away from his spot lingering by the door to go to his room and fetch him a clean shirt to wear, coming out with a black shirt. He tosses it at Jungkook wordlessly before announcing that he’d be leaving to give the two of you some privacy.

You force yourself to look away while Jungkook yanks the liquor soaked shirt off of himself, not giving him a glance until he’s dressed again in your friend’s clothes. “Sorry, my friend spilt his drink on me before I left.”

That didn’t matter, you honestly didn’t care if he was drunk or not, this might be a little easier if the both of you were drunk. Your fingernails start to wedge underneath the seal of the box, peeling the cardboard flap open. Jungkook reaches forward and grabs the second test on the coffee table, his trembling hands mimicking your actions. His mind was currently blank, not yet coming to terms with the fact that you could be pregnant with his child. He couldn’t think about that right now, maybe in a bit he’d feel the dread that usually comes with this but for right now all he heard in his head was static.

“Are you gonna take all three?”

You toss the empty box onto the table, holding one of the small plastic sticks in your hand, rotating it in your grasp with uncertainty, “Maybe? Should I take two and save one for tomorrow just in case?”

Jungkook doesn’t know, he’s completely clueless on what to do but he finds himself nodding because sure, leaving one test up for chance for tomorrow morning seemed to ease some of the anxiety off your face. “Yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

“Okay.”

When he pulls out the remaining test he feels the first hint of fear creep up his spine, the plastic feels heavy in his grasp, these stupid flimsy things held the answer on whether both of your lives would change or not. His brows push together as he reads the blue font on the edge of the stick, his mind now thinking of the what ifs.

He wants to throw up.

The sound of you walking towards the bathroom makes him look up from the test, seeing you standing at the edge of the hallway with an expectant look on your face, “Do you want me to come with you?” He manages to ask even though his throat feels dry.

You hold the test tighter in your hands, “Can you, I’m sorry I’m just kind of scared.”

Jungkook stands up straight, forcing his nerves away because you were whats important right now, he nods at you as he makes his way towards you, “Yeah, of course.” You thank him silently, hearing him trailing behind you as you enter Jimin’s bathroom, catching sight of yourself in his mirror and cringing at how you looked.

You set the two tests on the countertop, your eyes analyzing them, picking out the first one with the pink cap on the top of it. Jungkook can only stand there, watching as you walk towards the toilet thats right beside the sink, the dress you wear is long enough to fully cover you as you reach underneath it and tug your underwear down but he still finds himself looking away. He chooses to haul himself onto the countertop, a few feet away from you with his eyes glued to the obscure photo Jimin had hung up on the wall.

He hears the shuffling of your dress as you pick the material up around you, trying your best to bunch it up as you uncap the test and awkwardly wedge it between your thighs when you finally sit down. The idea of peeing in front of Jungkook, on a pregnancy test nonetheless, feels too domestic, too out of place for your current situation but it needs to be done.

You thank Jimin for forcing you to chug as much water as you did before he got here, your urge to pee aiding in the task. After a few seconds you pull the test out from between your legs, handing the plastic part to Jungkook and he hands you the second test, already uncapped as he sets the first one down gently on the black granite.

No words are exchanged as you do this, you just needed him here with you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, whatever you were feeling you knew he was feeling too and as much as you knew Jimin would be there for you, he wouldn’t be able to relate to these emotions right now.

Once the second test is done with and you’re no longer sat on the toilet, patting your hands dry after washing them you stand there, nibbling on your lip as Jungkook sets a timer for five minutes on his phone, “I can’t stand here and wait.”

He agrees, stepping his way out of the bathroom and motioning for you to follow him back out to the living room, plopping down onto the end of the couch. You walk around the coffee table, sitting on the opposite end of the same couch, bringing your legs up to clutch your knees to your chest as you rest your head on the back of the couch.

Five minutes feels like forever, the two of you lost in thought as his phone counts down the minutes. You can see Jungkook’s face, the way his hands are raking through his hair nervously, his nose twitching ever so often as a million emotions cross his face. God you didn’t want to be pregnant, not like this. The thought makes tears mist your eyes again, it starts as a silent cry, one or two tears slipping down your face undetected but once the dam is broken you can’t contain the sniffles you let out.

That catches Jungkook’s attention, his head whipping over to look at you, balled in on yourself as you cried, your shoulders shaking with every gasped breath you took. Seeing you look so broken and scared makes him slide his way over, not letting his uncertainty stop him from wrapping his arms around your body and bringing you into his chest.

For a brief moment he thinks you’re going to shove him back, but your arms let go of your legs as you let Jungkook hold you close, hearing his own breathing stuttering as he tries to hold in the tears he desperately wants to shed. “What are we supposed to do?” You sob, feeling his hands gently rub your back as your own hands finally wrap around his frame, needing all the comfort you could take.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, his jaw clenching when that only makes you cry harder, “whatever you wanna do.”

You don’t believe that, “Really?” You rasp out between gasps, “So if I am and want to keep it you’re fine with that?”

He nods, licking his lips in thought, “Yes, if that’s what you want.” His hands pull you in tighter, “Like I said, whatever you wanna do.” Jungkook wanted kids eventually, ideally when he was married and had a good job, but if this was the cards life gave him and you wanted to keep it then so be it. The thought of this happening was scary, the image of having to tell his parents, of having to rethink the five year plan he had, having to potentially become responsible for a tiny human was frightening but he wasn’t going to force you to do anything, especially when he could only imagine what thoughts were swimming in your head.

When your breathing evens out, your hands still holding him close, he can’t get himself to revel in it, to enjoy the feeling of you holding him like you don’t hate his guts because he knows its just because of this. After this was done you’d go back to hating him, regardless of the outcome so when his timer rings out he dreads having to let you go.

The two of you pull apart from each other, your hands weakly rubbing away the stray tears as you stare at him, seeing his face is just as red from the silent tears he managed to shed. You share a look, a deep breath being let out between the both of you, you couldn’t put this off any longer so you force yourself to get up and somberly make your way back to the bathroom.

The light was left on, both of the used tests being face down since you and Jungkook couldn’t bare to stare at the small countdown on the tiny screen, you and him stand at the doorway, the reflection on the mirror showing just how distraught and unprepared you are for whatever the results are.

“Should we each flip one over?” He suggests, his fingers twitching at his sides, just wanting to get it over with.

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He reaches for the pink capped test and you grab the blue one, your fingers lingering on the sides of it with uncertainty, “On three.” He begins, seeing you nod in the mirror as you stare down at the stick.

One.

Two.

Three.

The both of you flip the test over, mentally bracing yourself as your eyes make out the tiny words on the gray screen. A small gasp is shared between you two, eyes wide in disbelief you crane your neck over to read the words on the test Jungkook holds and he does the same, not wanting to react until you know they both say the same thing.

not pregnant

“Oh thank fuck.” He whispers out, the test falling out of his grasp and clattering against the floor. Jungkook crumbles against the sink, resting his weight on his elbows as his head hangs low. You let yourself finally take a breath, dropping your head back to stare at the ceiling with the test still clutched in your right hand. The turmoil in your brain halts for a second, no longer thinking of how your life is on a downward spiral just when it had finally seemed to fall together.

The bathroom is silent for a moment, the pair of you trying to compose yourselves from the roller coaster of emotions that transpired in the past 15 minutes. You weren’t pregnant, you weren’t going to become a mother and Jungkook wasn’t going to become a father. Thank fucking god.

“Would you really have let me keep it if I was?” You break the silence, leveling your head back down and staring at his hunched over frame, his own head peaking up to stare at you resting against the nearest wall of the bathroom.

“Yeah.” He admits quietly, sending you a small nod as he looks into your eyes with the utmost sincerity.

“Were you ready to be a dad?” You give him an incredulous look, once again not believing he’d be ready to uproot his entire life over one night together. Hell, you weren’t ready to be a mother, you were selfish and the only thing you were focused on was finishing school and not being in debt. Having a kid was not in your near future.

Jungkook stands up again, giving you a shrug and staring at the marble floors, “No, not at all,” The relief on his face is clear as he takes in a breath, “but considering I had no complaints about not wearing a condom I don’t think I’m in any place to tell you what to do with your body.”

That wasn’t an answer you had been expecting, and for a moment you’re reminded on the Jungkook you had developed a crush on, the one that was always so willing to sacrifice his own comfort to make his friends feel better. When you had been in this position with Taehyung, after knowing you were in the clear, you had text him asking him what he would have done if you were actually pregnant and all he had sent you was the cartoon meme of a lady tossing a child into the air like a basketball.

It had made you laugh because realistically, that would be the route you would take but hearing someone voice how it was indeed your choice was nice, comforting even. You’re grateful it didn’t have to come to that though, hypothetically you know what you would’ve done but if you actually were pregnant you’re not sure if that choice would change.

He stares at you again, seeing how your face looks at ease now, your eyes focused on your feet pressed against the cool marble floors. “I’m sorry.” He begins, scared of where this conversation would lead to but he needed to suck it up, he had to properly apologize to you. If you shouted at him and threw him out afterwards he could live with that, as long as he was finally able to speak to you.

“That I’m not pregnant?”

“No,”  he shakes his head, resting his back on the wall adjacent to the sink, seeing the realization sink into your face at what he was apologizing for, “I’m sorry for handling my emotions the way I did. For focusing on myself and not thinking of how it would affect you.”

A tiny scowl makes it way across your face, your free hand curling into a fist at your side but he looks about ready to barf so you let him continue, “I was scared of how our relationship would change after that morning, which sounds stupid now considering thats exactly what ended up happening because of me.” He’s forcing himself to maintain eye contact, not wanting to look away from you, “It was never my intention to make you feel like I was using you.”

He sees the flash of anger in your eyes at his words right before you bite, “How the hell did you think I would feel after that Jungkook? We sleep together and you immediately drop me, what did I do for you to treat me like that, should I not have asked you to have breakfast after?”

“No, god no. You didn’t do anything.” He wants to bang his head against the drywall, wanting to release his inner frustrations out on himself, “It was all me, I could feel the crush I had on you growing and I knew you didn’t want a relationship so I didn’t want to confess and then put you in an uncomfortable position. My friend’s got in my head-”

“Do you not have a mind of your own?”

He stops mid sentence, his head tilting slightly at your words, “What?”

You stand up straighter against the wall, your arms crossing under your chest while you glare at him, “You’re telling me that instead of doing what you wanted to do, you rely on whatever the hell your friends told you. The same friends that called me a slut I’m assuming.”

His face scrunches up at that, an apologetic look on it as he sighs, “I’m sorry-”

The hand you raise up stops him from apologizing again, “I don’t want to hear that, whatever you say now won’t change the fact that you did nothing when I needed you to.” He could say sorry a million times for the way his friend acted, tell you he fought him or yelled at him for what he said, none of that mattered because he had stayed silent in front of you. “I just want to know what they could’ve said that convinced you that treating me like this had a better outcome than admitting to a crush.”

Jungkooks eyes drop back down to the floor, landing on the forgotten pregnancy test laying beside his feet, the tip of his shoes pushing the plastic on the floor. He wants to go back to that day, he knows what his friends said shouldn’t have influenced him because he knew you, but the way they hounded him made him doubt everything. He had already been so unsure of the way he was reading things and their reaction just made him feel like he had no idea how to behave in situations that they claimed were regular occurrences for them.

“They told me I was stupid for thinking of telling you how I feel, that there was no way you’d see this as more than one night because you have Taehyung, to just let it go because you didn’t view sex the same way I probably did.”

His words just make you frown, “Jungkook, was I ever a bad friend to you?”

He shakes his head, his courage gone, no longer being able to look at you.

“Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable?”

Once again he shakes his head.

“So then why did you think you couldn’t talk to me. You know me better than any of your friends do, why were their opinions of me more important than yours?”

“I don’t know, but they shouldn’t have been. I was just scared of admitting my feelings.”

A sigh leaves your lips, you weren’t in the mood to shout at him, or argue, you were emotionally drained for the night. “You wanna know why I liked you Jungkook?”

He finally looks up again, his eyes dimming slightly at the word liked, past tense, you had liked him. “You’ve always been sweet to me, you trusted me enough to come to me for help, you always let us drag you along to places I could tell you didn’t want to be at just because you knew it would make one of us smile. Every time we hung out together I knew it was genuine, you were hanging out with me because you wanted to, not because you were expecting to get something out of it, but then you did this and it has me wondering if everything leading up to it was a lie.”

The hurt is evident on your face and Jungkook just wants to make it right, he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of this, “No I promise it wasn’t, I loved spending time with you, it wasn’t all for some end goal. You were the first person to make me feel comfortable in school.” He recalls the first day he saw you in your shared class, the way you had let him know he didn’t have to be wary talking to you, the open ended promise of a friendship before you parted ways.

“I literally gave you a black eye with my camera when I met you.”

“Yeah, but I deserved it right?”

That gets you to crack a smile, the way he scrunches up his face as he remembers the way your camera had felt when it sucker punched him in the face. He hadn’t deserved it, no one deserved to get a bloody nose and black eyes on their first day of college, you had just said that to hurt him.

“Yeah, you did.” You tease him, seeing the way he relaxes slightly when you let out a small laugh.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I don’t expect you to forgive me, or not hate me anymore but I just needed you to know why I acted like a dumbass.”

The air falls silent once more, the both of you look utterly defeated, drained and vulnerable while you stand in the giant bathroom. You bring up the test that was still in your grasp, your lips pressing together as you reread the text. “Jungkook, you were ready to become a fucking dad, I don’t think I could totally hate your guts.”

Jungkook can feel his chest ache again, his hands clenching at his sides, urging the feeling to go away, he couldn’t think about the stupid seed of a crush still hanging on to his heart. The both of you had been through enough tonight, you admitting to not being able to hate him was good enough for him.

“Really?”

You push off the wall and toss the test into the trash bin by the toilet, Jungkook bends down and picks up the one on the floor, handing it to you as well. “Yeah really, you’re on thin ice though.”

The soft smile you give him makes him sigh in relief, “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor.”

You snort as you turn and walk out of the bathroom, hearing him flick the light off and follow you back out to the living room, you pass the coffee table and turn into the kitchen, pulling out the bottle of red wine Jimin had bought, grabbing the giant bag of chocolate chip cookies and wine opener as well before walking back out towards the couch.

Jungkook eyes the items in your hand, flopping onto the couch as you sit beside him, holding the bottle of wine between the two of you. You hand him the wine opener and he makes do, twisting the end of it into the cork and popping it open quickly, setting the device onto the coffee table, “To not becoming parents.”

The bottle is raised high between you as you smile, bringing it to your lips and taking a giant gulp of the fruity liquid, wiping your mouth as you hand it to Jungkook. He repeats what you do, taking a massive gulp and setting the bottle down with care, scared of spilling the red liquid on Jimin’s light couch.

To not becoming parents.

Somewhere in between finishing the bottle of wine, you find yourself sprawled out on the couch, your legs curled up by your chest with your head resting on Jungkook’s thigh. In turn his body is sinking into the couch, his head resting on the back of it, one of his hands laying on the arm rest while the other gently plays with your hair. You’re lazily munching on a cookie, the warm feeling of being wine drunk settled into your bones, Jungkook’s touch only aiding in making you feel sleepier.

“I think I’d be a really shitty mom.” You mumble out between chewing, your hand reaching down between your legs to stuff your hand into the cookie bag once more.

“What, why?”

Jungkook feels you shrug against his legs, “I don’t know, I’ve never really been maternal, kinda selfish.”

His eyes are shut, his cheeks are flushed and he feels warm but content, “Don’t say that, do you want kids?”

“Maybe, thats why it scares me though.” The thought of having a kid and being a lousy parent is what stopped you from visualizing a future with a family, you didn’t want to be a shitty mom. Flashes of the way you were raised flick behind your lids when you shut them, the strained relationship you have with your parents, the reality that some people really should’ve never become parents. The last thing you’d ever want to do is bring a child into the world and instead of nurturing it with unconditional love all you manage to do is tear them down.

“I think you’d be a great dad though.” 

Your words are quieter now, your eyes slipping shut as he hums in thought. You could picture Jungkook as a dad, married to someone just as sweet as he was, living near the beach or somewhere suburban. He’d be the kind of dad who took his kids to all their sporting events, teaching them a little bit of everything because Jungkook had that talent. To think that might have been kickstarted tonight if things had gone differently.

“You think so?” Its a soft question, almost as if he hadn’t meant to voice it at all but you mumble out a yes in response, smiling once more when you hear him sigh gently, almost picturing the grin thats surely on his face.

Silence falls over you two again, and for a moment you think maybe he had fallen asleep since you weren’t too far from it, but his fingers continue to comb through your hair, “Are you with Taehyung now?” He asks shyly, he had heard about you going on dates and hanging out with him alone more often but he didn’t want to assume anything again, thats exactly what got him in this predicament in the first place.

“No, I’m not.” The words fall from your mouth instantly, almost as if you’re eager to let Jungkook know he had a chance, no matter how small, you want to blame it on the wine, on anything really, but you can’t deny that Jungkook had you charmed the minute you met him, the feeling only growing as you got to know him more. 

His fingers freeze in your hair for a split second before continuing like your words had no affect on him. He smiles though, his lips curving up softly, his eyes blinking open and tilting his head down to stare at your drifting form, nuzzled onto his thighs in a way that made him forget the events that had happened these last few weeks.

When he doesn’t speak you take it upon yourself to tease him the way you knew best, “So, you had a crush on me huh?” Your words are mostly slurred together from sleep slowly taking over but he hears you clearly.

Expecting him to be bashful, scoff and deny it, pretend like he was over it but instead he sighs, his body sliding down the couch half an inch, the hand in your hand coming down to drape across your shoulder softly, “Yeah, I have a crush on you.”

The words replay in your head, the soft warmth in your chest spreading throughout you and you really can’t fault the alcohol for it, for the way you feel fuzzy at the confession of him still having a crush on you but you reel it in, shutting your eyes once more and humming in response. The two of you slowly drifting off on your best friends couch after the events of tonight, exhausted and relieved all at once.

When Jimin finally makes it back in a little before 1am he holds his breath, shutting the door softly when he makes out the shape of your silhouettes sleeping on the couch. His eyes lock onto the empty wine bottle and he feels his body sag in relief, thankful that you had drank the alcohol in celebration and he wouldn’t be walking into another scene of tears because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold his own back this time.

Jungkook looks boneless on his couch, his head hanging off the side with his mouth dropped open slightly, his hand is still draped across your shoulder while you sleep soundly on his thighs, the dress you wore to the event still on you and the two of you look like complete messes but Jimin still smiles. 

He reaches out and grasps the empty bottle, gently pulling the bag of cookies from where its wedged between your legs, deciding to save the lecture on crumbs for tomorrow morning. As he pulls back, giving you and Jungkook another once over he freezes when he sees Jungkook’s bleary eyes blinking at him in confusion.

“Congrats.” Jimin teases softly, ruffling Jungkook’s hair with his free hand, seeing the soft smile that spreads across his face, his body sagging into the couch once more.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, adjusting the arm draped around you to go back to raking through your hair. Jimin and his eyes lock once more, a silent conversation between them and Jungkook understands and hopes that the second morning after plays out better than the last.

[silver-embersss]

Broken Horns and Broken Hearts Chapter 8

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Tubbo had collapsed into bed only a few moments before, but the next the boy knew, he was sitting in yet another meeting, with the rest of the cabinet casting him slightly strange looks as they argued.

He internally panicked, scouring his brain for any memories of getting up, or even walking to the meeting - but there was nothing. A quick check of his timetable confirmed that he’d only lost a few hours this time, instead of two whole days, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. Where were these sudden gaps in his memory coming from? And why was Quackity staring at him like he’d grown a second head? He shook it off as nothing, perhaps their confrontation last night.

The meeting was followed by another speech, where Schlatt announced a festival to be held in a week, the organising of which was probably going to be delegated to Tubbo on top of the rest. The teen scanned the cityline in boredom, and he was pleasantly surprised to see Wilbur duck behind a parapet. Thankfully, the ex-president couldn’t see him - specifically his horns - from where he stood next to Quackity, but he took a small step back anyway to make sure. Remembering the conversation he had with Tommy yesterday, Tubbo made a mental note to write down the ambush plans they’d discussed earlier and deliver it to the hidden chest.

The gaps in his memory became more frequent as the festival drew near, but Tubbo somehow managed to keep his act together, ignoring the strange looks he got as his horns grew and his patience diminished. The teen also ignored the way his friends talked about him behind his back, denouncing him just because of Schlatt. He simply pretended not to hear the hurt remarks about his grumpiness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tommy slashed wildly with a stone blade, shards of granite screeching off the wall, and he heard Techno chuckle condescendingly from behind. The teen spun around in irritated tiredness to snap at his older brother.

“At least I’m preparing and not just farming fuckin’ potatoes for three hours straight, dipshit!”

The mocking smile on Techno’s face widened.

“The thing is, Tommy, I don’t need the training - you clearly do.”

“Oh, shut up. Stupid pig bastard.”

Tommy glanced worriedly upwards towards the ravine entrance, where Wilbur stood, currently fucking up his sleep schedule even more. The pig followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, silently judging his hypocrisy, but Tommy ignored the hint and went back to attempting to massacre the granite wall. L’Mandog could look after Wilbur. They had a war to fight, and if The Blade was going to slack off, well. Then it was down to Tommy to carry their rebellion, wasn’t it?

3 bites of a baked potato later, Techno was back in his farm, both him and Tommy trying their best to pretend each other didn’t exist.

Strangely, it didn’t work.

Eventually, Tommy gave the wall a break and swapped his stone sword out for iron, strapping the bare blade to his hip.

“I’m gonna go check the notebook chest!”

The teen called to Techno, trying not to disturb Wilbur in his moonstruck reverie as he left. Despite his efforts, Tommy felt his brother’s eyes on his back as he crept through the undergrowth.

A few hasty ducks and desperate, pleading headshakes at Niki later, the teen made it to the hillside underneath the prime path that hid the chest. For a split second, he thought he saw a flash of black - Tubbo, maybe? - dash around the corner, but it was gone before he could call out to whoever it was.

A quick glance in ‘the mailbox’ (as Techno called it) revealed the notebook they'd been writing correspondences in, but thrown hastily down on its front, bending the spine. The messy placement was at odds with how it normally lay when it was Tubbo’s turn, but the teen didn’t think much of it other than a muttered curse at the dictator who was keeping his best friend busy doing everything that Schlatt should have been doing.

Tommy skimmed through the rushed explanation of the festival’s weaknesses and snapped a picture of the map Tubbo had painstakingly sketched of the proposed layout. They’d agreed not to use names in the book in case one of them was caught with it, so Tommy just scribbled ‘Thx bitch, hang in there’ on the next page and replaced the book.

For a moment, he entertained the crazy idea of abducting Tubbo so he wouldn’t have to deal with the drunken tyrant, but the thought was soon brushed off due to its impossible nature. Plus, who would be their spy then? Will tried to get in contact with Fundy, but was left on read - the fox was still seemingly bitter about losing the election, even if he did cheat.

After a wistful glance at the half-broken walls, Tommy shoved his communicator back in his pocket, took a step back and fell into a creeper hole.

“Fuck!”

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It wasn’t long until Tommy came back from the mailbox, but it was 11:30 at night, so Techno once again tried to convince Wilbur to come into the relatively warmer Pogtopia. The ex-president was mumbling a steady stream of nonsense (which was slightly concerning, to say the least) but it wasn’t exactly a strange occurrence.

“Wilbur? Will?”

No response.

“I’ll make you stew if you come in.”

Food usually got the attention of his siblings, especially Tommy, but still Wilbur ignored him. With a sigh, Techno gave up and went back to his farm, giving L’Mandog a pat on the head as he turned away. It wasn’t the best result, but at least he tried, right?

Casting his memory back, the piglin couldn’t remember Tommy eating that day either, so he pulled a cauldron on top of the campfire anyway, letting the water boil while he rummaged in the chests for some steak. Cutting the meat into small cubes, he threw it into the pot alongside some salt and half a clove of chopped garlic. While the pot simmered, Techno sat cross-legged on the ground next to it and got to peeling and chopping some of the potatoes he’d farmed, throwing the peel in a nearby bucket. It didn’t take long for Tommy to come barreling down the narrow stairs, an ecstatic look on his face as he sniffed the air.

“It’ll be ready in a bit.” Techno grunted at him, ignoring his excited yell.

“Do me a favour and get Wilbur.”

The teen raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bet you already tried.”

The piglin glared at him, and Tommy raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay okay, I’m going!”

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The festival date was set. Planning was under way. All the information had been leaked to the rebels - and yet Tubbo couldn’t help but feel he was missing something important. The feeling was so urgent, he’d checked off lists a million times and gone over everything with Quackity a million-and-one, and it still hadn’t gone away. That, combined with the memory gaps, bleeding horns, and the alcoholic president, weighed on him more heavily than he’d admit. Sleep was a rare luxury, not a necessity. Fundy took every opportunity he had to glare menacingly at him, and even the recently-released Niki kept her distance. It hurt, to be so isolated from these people he’d fought beside for months, but there was no time for moping. There was barely even time for breathing.

“Tubbo! Get me a coffee!”

“Yes, Mr. Schlatt!”

As he sped down the hall, clipboard and a stack of papers in hand, Quackity called him from outside. He set the papers down on the hallway table and stuck his head out the door.

“What?!”

Big Q motioned towards the square, where a large hole sat in the centre of the seating.

“A creeper blew up the square, can you fix it?”

“Yeah, just-” “TUBBO! COFFEE!”

The teen bit his lip and gestured awkwardly over his shoulder.

“I gotta go-”

Without waiting for a response, he dashed back to the small break area where the coffee maker was kept. He set it going before rushing to collect the stack of forms left on the table. While the coffee brewed, he read through as many as he could. This was the usual routine - multitasking, never taking more than a second’s break, trying to stay on Schlatt’s good side - and he’d gotten used to it. As Tubbo grabbed a stack of cobble from his chest, a message buzzed through his communicator. Cobble in one hand, communicator in the other, he typed a reply in snatches, mostly looking forward as he hurried towards the creeper hole.

TommyInnit whispered to you: Tubso

You whispered to TommyInnit: What?

TommyInnit whispered to you: I need you

He sighed angrily.

You whispered to TommyInnit: tf do you want???? m busy!!!!!

TommyInnit whispered to you: is schlatt being a dick again? We need more info on the festical

You whispered to TommyInnit: well im actually doing stuf unlike some ppl!!!!! TommyInnit whispered to you: ???? u good?

You whispered to TommyInnit: lok i dont have the time!! get yor own fuckin informton!

Another message pinged through but Tubbo ignored it, shoving the little black box back in his pocket and continuing with his tasks. The next thing he knew, it was the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window of his room. A slight jolt of nausea accompanied the sudden change in his surroundings, but the teen shrugged it off. It was routine, after all. It was a struggle to pull his pyjama top over his head, as his horns grew bigger every day. Surely they’ll stop growing at some point. The sharp points protruded about a centimetre past his chin, and were a lot thicker than before. Succumbing to his exhaustion, Tubbo let out an ear-shattering yawn and fell into bed, digging his nails into the itchy skin around the base of the horns. A jolt of pain made him yelp, and something warm trickled down his hand.

Blood.

Note to self: Invest in bandages for these things!

[lsdruid]

“Anyone else feeling homicidal right now?”

[1] Love for Maximus The real psychopaths of history, upon learning that killing is frowned upon in most cultures, take up research and author textbooks. These demonic cysts of the world never die. Across generations, they appear in the lives of young Gilneans, their spirits wild and lustful like young wolves, and then fuck them over until the young wolves roll over and expose their vulnerable undersides to their now dominant lover. Boredom, apathy, and homicidal thoughts are the half-demon love children. It was the words comprehensible to only an educated fraction of all Gilneans, swimming in blue ink across a fragile page, that were the only remnant of a dignified life long gone. Through the ink, a disembodied voice endured. Somebody made love under sheets, slid coins across the counters of sweet shops, sobbed over graves, and slipped into death beneath the gazes of loved ones. Who’s dying now? The only souls currently thinking of his name, a pair ofstudents. For the rest of their lives, the name “Albert Hendrick” will flush their faces with a furrowed brow and taut lips, as if remembering a spurned lover, or closer to the truth, hours choking their own minds with formulas. “Y'know, some people internalize, wanna kill themselves.” a slender, pale hand flattened a lock of reddish hair against a soft cotton nightgown, directly over the heart thudding beneath milky, speckled skin. A willowy index finger jutted into the spine of the open textbook. “This makes me wanna kill -somebody else-.” A boy with neglected blond curls and savage blue eyes lied down alongside, obliviously peering into the book, his eyes soft and curious where his amber-eyed companion’s were simmering with frustration. He was six feet, very tall for a Gilnean of fifteen. His looks have been compared to a number of celebrities. “You’re almost all the way through.” The boy reported matter-of-factly, deftly snatching his friend’s calculation-smeared paper from underneath a cocked elbow. “Hey, how are y'doing these problems without making the table?” “I uh, have no idea. He doesn’t check for accuracy, I’m bullshitting so I can get this over with and get credit,” the girl explained, suddenly flustered. “Ha, I thought you knew some super genius shortcut to these ‘n I was wasting my time here, Miss four point somethin’” “Just finish that up so we can get going.” “Might as well do some learning while I’m filling this sheet out, rather than write down nonsense.” “When are you ever gonna need to know the scientific name of the knee cap? Like, oh fuck, oh shit, help, I got shot in the patella.” “I used to be an adventurer like you, then I took an arrow to the patella.” “You are finishing that today, and we are -leaving in ten minutes-,“The girl snapped, her last words spoken with the restrained fervor of a judge sentencing a man to die. “Patience of a saint.” He patted the girl’s back. The girl jabbed her elbow into his ribs. A nerve has been touched, and the boy, no gambler, wouldn’t test his luck again. The subtle, sarcastic comment was applicable. Anxiety and impatience haunted the girl like a lingering disease. Nothing was ever accomplished quickly enough, nothing was ever quite right. She lived in the past, she clawed at the corners of her mind as if with enough mutilation, their guts would spill and yield answers from the future. It is believed that whoever created life would be disappointed; the gift of youth, meant to be enjoyed, was wasted fretting. Then again, these believers should be reminded that urchins in the streets are starving. What does another irritated soul matter to this maker of things, or to anyone? “For fuck’s sake, you’re gonna get going, or you’re gonna get two shattered patellas.” “Well, shit, I’ve only got so many of those!” It took several minutes to slip into cotton shirts and heavy woolen garments. Breakfast took another five – honey and bread was jammed into mouths and scarfed down, the plain crumbs chokingly thick, dry, and hesitant to go down a throat at this bleary hour of the morning. Out the door in thirty seconds, enough time to walk several miles of winding Gilnean streets with time to spare. The sun had yet to breach the layers of cumulus that hung languidly over the city. A vicious cold lurked in the fog, its moisture chilling the air to a deep freeze. With tops of buildings drenched in fog, the sky appeared oppressively low. If it weren’t for the lamps that distributed vital light along the cobblestone streets, wet and slippery with morning dew, school children would never be able to trek to their livelihoods at the proper time of seven in the morning. The conversation was as sparse and bland as breakfast, but it was basked in the unassuming warmth of old friendship. The cold wasn’t bad enough to bite through their layers and worry their skin, and the morning was pleasant aside from the weather. the streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional stranger, who always seemed to be as bundled up, sleepy and shy as they were. The boy occasionally initiated cheerful good mornings, but was never returned anything aside from mumbled greetings. After one of these failed social gestures, the girl scuffed puddle water at her buddy, who pretended to be unaware of her antics. Bored, she skipped to his side. “I just remembered, I wanted to get to school a -bit- early to speak with a teacher, and we’re running a -bit- behind,” the boy pointed out, his tone optimistically rising in pitch. She dug into him with a pointed amber glare as her perfect morning schedule melted in her hands. “You -forgot-.” The possible words left unsaid, yet hinted by her threatening look, is what unnerved him the most. “We’re good, hey, we should be able to cut through here.” When the pair turned into a musty alley, they were hardly able to walk side by side. The girl could have sworn the buildings were trying to squeeze them like bugs. It was hard to navigate, but the boy possessed an amazing sense of spatial awareness. His knack for navigation never failed him, although in this situation, after winding through a few forks in a narrow labyrinthian alley of an overcrowded city, it looked like it might be a while before they got an idea of their whereabouts. Once they were thoroughly lost, the darkness unraveled something large and fanged on four legs. It was just a dog. The girl moved behind the boy, grabbed his gloved hand, and gently tugged. Frothy drool oozed from the bitch’s jowls and shiny drops of saliva coalesced on the ground, glinting like little coins in the teasing light. She moved forward, but it wasn’t quite right, the gait was interrupted every moment with a limp. She dragged herself over the dark, wet cobblestones like a demon from hell. She opened up a mouth full of horrendous teeth and strings of spit. The boy looked inside and froze. His repose was shattered by a jarring cry that sounded like a woman’s shriek combined with a slamming door. The adrenaline iced his blood, then set it on fire. When his senses cleared, he realized he had stood bleary eyed while his companion swung her fifteen pound book bag into the beast’s twisted, fanged grimace. It was still standing after the blow, staring at them, froth and vapor both streaming from its maw. The vapor floated up in delicate spirals and the saliva, thick as porridge, laboriously tumbled onto the cobbles. In an attempt to startle the rabid animal, the boy raised both arms and waved vigorously. The beast gazed at him, perplexed. Then, it slid to the ground on its side. The mangy, wiry form was suddenly overtaken by erratic tremors. “Oh, damn. Just keep walking,” the boy hissed to his gaping companion, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, gently coaxing her to abandon the scene, to stroll around the rabid dog without looking. It was nearly over. They were some ten feet away when the girl braced her legs, bringing the two bodies moving as one to a halt. “Wait! I hear something.” He could hear it now. The silence in the motionless alley managed to sustain a whimpering so quiet he had to listen for a moment to assure himself he was not mistaken. The girl drifted from her companion’s side, slowly moving towards a pile of rubbish blurred by the hazy darkness. She had traced the sound to its source. She knelt and the boy took several wary steps towards her. A soaked and unpleasantly grimy cloth sheltered an equally grimily unpleasant puppy. He had the coloration of a cow, white with large ink stains of black. The fur was congealed to the bony little body with a foul-smelling soup. The boy raced over, peeling the outermost coat from his shoulders and arms as he went. He plucked the mud puppy from the dirty hands of his companion and swaddled the little beast in wool, holding the bundle close to his chest. The pup looked up at him with large, milky brown eyes. They both giggled, first the boy in low, coughing spurts, and then the girl with breathy chuckles. The shock of the attack melted to overwhelming adoration of a baby animal. It looked to them both, and then began to cry out indignantly for care, its little form shaking like a leaf. Upon request, dog and jacket were shoved into the straight-faced boy’s shirt. The little head popped out. “Are you naming him? You found him.” “I’ll give -you- the honor,” the girl huffed out in between giggles. “Then he is Maximus. Maximus, Conqueror of Words! Hero of our time.” “He doesn’t look like a Maximus.” “He’ll grow into it. Look at those big paws!“

The puppy arched its neck and squirmed around until he was able to press noses with the boy. A little pink tongue darted out, the cleanest bit of flesh they’d ever seen from this little animal, to wash the boys chin and lips. “That’s disgusting. You could start drooling and snarling at me like the mum. Stop what you’re doing.” “Wise advice from a wise girl.” “Yeah, well, obviously it’s because Im ‘Miss Four Point Something’ and you’re slackin’ at three point three three three threethreethreethreethreethreethteethreethreeththththththth-” He had a breathtaking moment of fear in which he morbidly imagined her never being able to stop, so he covered her lips with his own. The moment it dawned on her that she’s practically being spooned dog saliva, she shoves the guffawing boy away. The puppy yowled, and she yowled right back. "Y'talking politics to ‘em, Jay?” "I think he’s a Godfrey supporter.” “Oh, dear god.”