#Im too sober to deal with this bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obxjj · 3 years

Text

the way we heal | jj maybank

- pairings: jj maybank x reader

- summary: people deal with trauma in different ways but it seems that jj thinks you don't care about the loss of your friends and deep down himself but he just needs to understand that people heal in their own time and through their own meanings, he just needed to be reassured of it. kinda pre season 2 ep 1 give ot take

- warning(s): really motherfucking angsty and swearing. mention of substance abuse

- wc: 2.2k :))))

a/n: all my fics the pogues and reader are the age 17/18 only because that's more comfortable for me to write. its been a long long time since i have wrote something so sorry for and spelling errors

People tend to deal with trauma differently. It could be resulting to crying you eyes out until you can’t breath and you can’t see through your tears clouding your eyes. Drinking until your liver wants to shut down and you whole body is so numb that yourself and everyone around you is so tuned out that you can’t function. Resulting to drugs to either feel something or not to feel anything at all. Or to have something to blame your actions on from yourself acting out simply because you don’t know how to handle the situation of a friend dying.

See you on the other hand dealt with it internally or the whim and feeling of not accepting death. Maybe it was your subconscious talking wanting you not to accept or maybe it was the gut feeling that you always got telling you that they were actually alive and have survived that storm that ‘supposedly’ had swept them away because “no body was found”.

This ‘gut feeling’ had always been right in many life or death situations. Or even just you picking out an outfit that you were unsure of whether it was going to get the boys attention that you had a crush on. It did indeed get his attention that night because that’s how you ended up loosing your virginity that night but that’s besides the point.

The best way you could describe it was like when people would do personality tests and it would ask “are you controlled by your heart or what you feel” probably not those exact words but you get the point. I felt with my feelings if my gut said yes then it was a yes.

Since the night that John B and Sarah had ‘died’ your gut had been telling you the opposite. That they were in fact not dead. As Big John use to say when you were a kid, you can never kill a Routledge. At the time it seemed like bullshit but now it was starting to grow on you.

However now your two friends were presumed dead and not everyone dealt with trauma like you did. Some would even go as far to say that you didn’t actually give a fuck that your friends were dead because you hadn’t cried or you hadn’t drunk yourself into a state of no return or resulted to smoking weed every single day and spray painted ‘murder’ on Ward Cameron’s estate. But at least Kiara wasn’t lying.

But the thing was you hadn’t cried because you couldn’t, you quite literally hated crying because it made you feel weak. Even if you tried and you tried your hardest but nothing came. At this point you could go as far as denial. This gut feeling was like getting hit by a semi truck every time a thought came into your head questioning maybe they were dead. Maybe they did get swept away at sea and never to return.

Your gut feeling was simply not letting you mourn the loss of John B and Sarah and now everyone thought you were an emotionless bitch. I mean they were right to a point but not the whole point.

So that brought you to current day driving around the Cut and night playing fucking real life Where’s Wally but its Where’s JJ Maybank because he’s blacked out drunk somewhere and now you’re on a rescue mission. Not like you had done enough of those in the last few weeks.

About an hour ago your phone rang and it was JJ asking you to come pick him up since somehow he had now idea where he had ended up and was too far gone to put together his surroundings. Well that’s what you had assumed he said since you had to decipher his slurred words.

At this point you had driven around the whole island and gone to every hid out spot that he would go smoke at or to just get away from everyday life. You had gone to all but one place. Where you avoiding that particular house because it held so many memories, plus the fact you hadn’t been near the place since shit hit rock bottom. Yes? But it was the highest chance that JJ was sitting on that dock with his legs swinging over it with a beer in hand.

Well you were right. As you walked down the old dock to where JJ was sitting it was if you could feel all the emotions, thoughts and disbelief crawling their way up your skin from the ground you were walking on. But that gut feeling was like a wave of fire, burning it all the way back to the ground.

“I don’t know why I just didn’t look here first. I should have known aye” you half heartedly said trying to keep the conversation light since you didn’t know what state JJ was going to be in. From the huff you got in response told you he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“How much have you had J?” You asked with concern but still trying to keep you voice light and less reprimanding because you knew he was in a too fragile state for you to be angry.

“Does it even matter how much Iv had. I don’t feel shit anymore” he replied back with his words straight forward and sobered.

“Well have you even given yourself a break for your body to sober up for you to even feel the effects of it? Or have you still been going since yesterday when I saw you? J its not going to do shit if you don’t give it a rest for at least a day or so” you said back trying you best to keep you and your voice as calm as possible. You fucking hated seeing JJ like this, you would never say it to his face but fuck it just reminded you of his dad when he got into states like this. Until the last week you had never seen JJ this bad. But could you blame him.

“You just don’t get it do you” JJ was now facing you and by the tone of his voice you had unintentionally struck a nerve that you were actively avoiding. “Why did you even fucking come if you’re just going to tell me how I should cope. Do you even care that JB has gone? He was our best fucking friend. He was my fucking brother my only family! And he’s fucking gone just like his old man. You haven’t even shed a tear y/n. You’re just acting like nothing had happened. Do you even care!” JJ was now on his feet breathing heavily and his jaw so clenched you’re surprised his teeth haven’t broken

“J, please do not yell at me right now” you asked with your voice shaking trying to hold back something that was bubbling at the surface. Was it anger or was it the water works that desperately needed to be let out.

JJ started to walk back up the dock, showing that he was done with this conversation that he could have avoided if he didn’t ask you in the first place to come pick him up. Deep down he knew that you would be the only one to come and get him, he just wasn’t as good at showing his gratefulness due to the alcohol that was numbing him.

“JJ just wait please, please don’t walk away” You stood back up and starting walking after him quick on the backs of his feet. He halted his tracks and turned around to look at you with a pained look in his face, as you got up close you could see his eyes stained red. Either from crying or the linger of weed still in his system.

“What could you possibly want to say y/n. I really thought you would be the last person not to care about this” JJ was now right up in your face and his voice was holding back trying his best not to yell. But that last sentence had taken you back.

“You think I don’t care JJ!” now you starting yelling “of course I give a shit JJ our friends are gone, they are not fucking here. I know it might not seem that I don’t care. But just because I’m not crying my eyes out every hour or drinking myself into a state where I don’t now where the fuck I am or getting high that I spray paint on any wall I see” your breath was now battling to come to the surface because you were talking so fast.

“Just because Im not doing any of those things doesn’t mean I don’t care JJ! People deal with this shit differently and you need to understand that” you breathed out trying to grasp for air again “the thing is JJ I have this annoying gut feeling thats telling me that John B and Sarah are not dead, and its literally preventing me to mourn them. I have convinced myself that they are alive and I can’t fucking mourn non dead people J. I don’t know how to fucking explain it”

“Well why didn’t you just tell us that” he replied after bit letting your whole rant sink into his brain, weaving its way through the alcohol that was clouding it.

“Because JJ! Even saying that out loud I sound fucking crazy, like I’m in a deep pit of denial. The thing is I’m far from denial. Yes I know there is a massive fucking fat chance that they are dead and have been food for the sharks” you exclaimed

“Don’t make it worse y/n” JJ shook his head not very happy with your choice of words

“Okay yeah sorry bad wording. Im sorry” you lowered your head in sorrow wanting to slap yourself in the face for trying to make jokes out of trauma.

“So its not that I don’t care J, trust me I do care. But John B and Sarah are not physically here with us and I cant physically care for them right now. But when we see them can do that”

“Y/n -“ JJ tried to get a word in but you hadn’t finished

“Don’t JJ. We will see them again” you put an emphasis on ‘will’ “I trust my gut and even you know that when I get a gut feeling that it’s always been right. Correct?”

“Yes but -“ he tried to get another word in but you needed him to listen.

“JJ I care about you. I care about Kiara and Pope. You guys are physically here for me to care for. The thing is I haven’t spoken to Kie since she’s with Pope half the time and I have spoken to Pope since he’s with Kid half the time and you? I can’t speak to you because your too far gone in beers to for me to even get a coherent conversation in” This was such an over due conversation to be had, you were now on the verge of hyperventilating. You needed JJ to hear this. Fully sober would have been better but half sober is the best you’re gonna get.

“JJ I understand if that’s how you’re going to deal with all of this but you can’t throw yourself completely away. We need you. I need you JJ. I can’t have you going off the deep end and then we loose you too. You need to be here for when we get John B back. He will need you for when he’s back”. The water works that you had been holding back had finally been released and trust it to be in front of JJ. He was your fucking rock, you couldn’t loose him. No way that would be your last day on earth if that were to happen.

“I-. Im sorry. I’m just so fucking lost y/n. I don’t know what the fuck to do. You’re always at work and Kie and Pope are god knows where. I just want this to go away so fucking bad. All this pain, I feel like I have no one” JJ was now crying to and gripping your waist as is you could float away into the air

“I know JJ, but you have us you have always had us. But you have to be so stubborn sometimes that you won’t let us in and help, you won’t let me in a help you” you had JJ’s face in your hands making him look at you so he knew you meant every single word. “I’m so sorry if you didn’t think I cared and I wasn’t there to help you, I just deal with this shit in a different way. Just like every single other person. We all heal differently and that’s okay. It dosent mean we care less. It doesn’t mean I care less”

Now there you and JJ stand on the dock leading off the chateau both in each others embrace purging the pain that’s both been locked up inside you for so long. The past you and JJ had people really didn’t tend to understand but neither did you. But you would always find your way back to each other at the end of the day. Despite the fights you had in the past and the days you would be at each others throats screaming at each other to the days you would be secretly stealing a glance at him because you just couldn’t help yourself.

You would always be there to help him take the pain away and he was always be there to do the same for you.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfic #obx #outerbanks season 2 #jj maybank imagine

231 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Title: Crybaby.

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Yandere!Bakugo/Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend has a savior-complex, and while you wouldn’t call yourself ‘sensitive’, you’re certainly not the most confident person around. What could go wrong?

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, and Abuse of Power.

You always felt like a voyeur, at these kinds of things.

You weren’t new to galas, events, glorified parties stocked with Pro-Heroes that were held for no other reason than to prove how rich and beautiful and charitable they all were. Hell, you’d met Katsuki’s stylist before his parents, and you’d like to think you’d gotten good at navigating the dark, confusing terrain people like him treated like a second home. You were comfortable here, but you were still cautious. You were one of them, but you weren’t. You were surrounded by heroes, suffocated by heroes, but that didn’t make you a hero.

You were a sheep among wolves, a hare in a nest of friendly, smiling vipers. You doubted they would attack, but you still made an effort not to look more edible than you had to.

Currently, you were using a tall glass of something red, cherry flavored, and still partially on fire as an excuse to put a hair’s width of distance between yourself and the rest of the party, eager to get a breath of fresh air before you went back to ingratiating yourself with the professionally elite. You’d barely let yourself relax by the time your small reprieve was cut short, ripped away from you by a pair of arms that easily found their way to your waist and pulled you into a broad chest before releasing you, letting you turn around to face your aggressor on your own. You weren’t surprised to find Katsuki behind you, a grin painted across his lips and his hair attempting to free itself from his attempts to slick it back, but his eagerness caught you off-guard, coming as a shift away from his usual noncommittal disposition. You didn’t mind, though, only laughing as he buried his face in your neck, pinning you between his body and the bar’s counter as if there was no one around to gawk and stare. It was hard not to love him, in moments like that, when he treated you like you were the only other person in the world.

“You got lost,” He explained, as if you hadn’t been there when you made the mistake of wandering off, assuming you’d be able to find Katsuki or, more realistically, he’d be able to find you. It’d taken him a little longer than you’d expected, but if the ferocity of Katsuki’s greeting was a sign, he’d been far more affected by the time apart than you. “I thought I’d have to wait until you washed up in the parking lot before lugging your drunk ass home, again.”

“My ass is tragically sober, I’ll have you know,” You huffed, stringing your arms around his neck, letting him lift you onto the bartop without argument. He didn’t try to pull away, but even if he did, you wouldn’t have let him. You were content to use him as a rock, a means to ground yourself in the ever-swirling room. You weren’t drunk, but you wished you were, if only because an ungodly amount of alcohol might’ve helped you separate yourself from the noise, the heat, the faces you vaguely recognized but failed to put a proper name to, out of costume. It was hard not to let it overwhelm you at the best of times, and although you desperately, desperately wanted to think you’ve gotten used to moving through a world so separate from the one you were used to, no amount of discipline and familiarization would make you any less disoriented. It wouldn’t make you belong here. “Midoriya took care of me,” You said, rather than trying to contemplate your situation in any more depth. “He kept me out of trouble while you got to make it. It’s a crime, really, an injustice. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d be tempted to storm off again.”

He chuckled, straightening his back, but not pulling away. “You look awfully happy for someone who just spent the last two hours dealing with Deku’s bullshit.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, fighting not to smile. Katsuki’s fingertips drummed against your side curiously, and you went on before you could think better of it. “It’s not every day your favorite hero volunteers to babysit you.”

You realized your mistake the moment the words were off your tongue, the implication of your bais. Reflexively, you pulled away from Katsuki, your hands dropping to the collar of his suit as you moved to correct yourself, but surprisingly, Katsuki’s grin only broadened, his stare sharpening, taking on something other than the bleary affection it’d contained before. “I won’t take it too personally,” He assured you, his tone anything but comforting. “I know how much Deku loves his fans. I didn’t think you like that kinda thing, though.”

Whereas his expression darkened, yours seemed to fade. Not falling away completely, but receding at the slightest hint of information you didn’t want to know, instead. You weren’t sure which response he’d been aiming for. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it’s nothing you should have to worry your pretty little head over,” He started, in a voice that was more than enough to assure you that this was exactly the kind of thing you would worry your pretty little head over. “He’s just… affectionate, y’know? With civilians - his groupies, especially. I’m surprised you didn’t get the chance to see it for yourself. I figured you’d already been to one of his hide-outs, by now.” He paused, absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair, acting like he didn’t care whether or not you were paying attention. Acting like he didn’t know he was making a threat. “It’s funnier than you’d think. Sometimes, one of us will bring an extra for ‘im. No one special, of course, but Deku’s standards aren’t set too high.”

You felt yourself go still, and abruptly, you were aware of every place Izuku had touched you, every glance out of the corner of his eye, every time he stood a little closer than he had to or let his fingers brush against yours when he could’ve kept his hands to himself. He’d been nothing but polite, nothing but pleasant, but… Katsuki wouldn’t lie, would he? He didn’t have a reason to.

It wasn’t like he wanted to scare you, right?

“It’s a good thing you got yourself away from him,” Katsuki went on, his eyes following the shape of your jaw lazily, eventually settling on your mouth. “I hear he likes the sensitive ones, y’know? I’m sure he would’ve liked you, too, if he knew how much of a…” He trailed off, finally meeting your stare. “Well, I don’t have to say it, do I?”

He didn’t. As soon as he felt silent, something sharp and hot began to prick at your eyes, sparsely at first, but the jabs grew more violent the longer you failed to drive them away. In a second, your head was bowed, and you were conscious of just how crowded the venue was, of just how distant Katsuki had gotten. In two, you were rubbing at your eyes and biting your bottom lip, and in three, you were sobbing, not prettily and not gently and certainly not quietly, your stifled cries and heavy breaths earning a handful of coos and hums from Katsuki, a hand soon cupping the back of your head, encouraging you to bury your face in his chest and hide yourself away from the rest of the party, your reputation be damned. It wasn’t like it mattered, it wasn’t like you mattered.

You could disappear, and no one here would care.

Katsuki was the only person who’d even notice you were gone.

You didn’t try to hold yourself back, not from him. You clung to Katsuki the way a shipwrecked sailor might cling to a liferaft, your fists balling around his jacket and wrinkling fabric you’d almost forgot you’d never be able to afford, not on your own. He gave you a moment to pull yourself together, to prove that you didn’t need the stability he provided, and when you failed to, Katsuki sighed, contented. When he spoke, he was nothing short of calming, soothing, tender. Ever the caretaker, albeit a caretaker you shouldn’t need. “It’s alright, baby. That’s why I’m here, yeah? I need to make sure you don’t get in over your head.” He pressed a slow, languid kiss into the top of your head, but the gesture was far from comforting. You had a feeling he wouldn’t try to pacify you, not so soon. “Let’s get you out of here, alright? I think you’ve had enough fun for one night.”

You nodded, weakly, letting Katsuki tug you onto your feet despite your unsteady legs. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, never daring to check if your muffled outburst had done any damage, nor did you try to reassure Katsuki or give any kind of verbal response, not when you already knew you’d be hushed and soothed into submission. You didn’t object, though. You didn’t have the right to.

Not when Katsuki always took such good care of you.

684 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Day five of Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was monsters!

Little brat’s been in the school ten minutes after the bell.

After they both broke curfew, Max staying out late trick-or-treating and going to one of her little friends’ house to trade candy, and Billy crashing at the lingering party until he was sober enough to come home and not get his ass kicked, they were supposed to be straight home today. Used up all their free time for the week apparently.

Max knew that this morning, he already told her to forget about the damn AV club. If he had to cancel on whatever chick he was going to take out (was it Carol? No, Carol is Tommy’s girl. Fuck he doesn’t know anybody yet) Max had to give her shit up to.

He gets bored of waiting for the little twerp and tosses his cigarette to the ground, marching in there his damn self.

Only time he’s ever been in this building was to pick Max up from AV. His dad made him come all the way inside and give his assessment on the teacher. Asked (slapped him and demanded it) that he do so to check on Max. Just to be sure. Like he cares.

But it works out anyways that he knows the way now that Max has decided to disappear and it’s up to him to track her down. Only problem is he gets there, and the room is empty. Not even just that Max isn’t in there, there’s no damn kids or teacher or nothing. Just a knocked over lamp and some shit on the floor.

He ain’t trying to hunt her down, but he has to get her back home in like, the next half-hour, and she’s somewhere she ain’t supposed to be. The school isn’t very big, half the damn building is closed off for the school board to use, so there isn’t much ground to cover.

He’s not trying to get himself arrested either, so he makes quick work of the school, checking all the places Max might be. Still, he comes up empty, and he’s about to just give up and let whoever she was with keep her when he sees something scurrying across the floor out of the corner of his eye.

It’s not really any of his business whether or not the middle school is infested, but it catches his eye for the wrong reasons.

It’s a gnarly little thing, a cross between a frog and rat or some shit, but Billy’d recognize that thing anywhere. It’s a fucking monster, crawling around the halls of his sisters school.

Purely on instinct, he tracks the thing to where it cornered itself, taking advantage of the fact that it’s still small and growing into its demon teeth to stomp on the gross monster. He stops once he’s positive it’s dead and not just faking him out like they do sometimes, he’s not gross or something, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when behind him, Max shouts, “Billy!”

He turns, ignoring the pile of goop that was one of those things to face his, apparently, from the flush on her cheeks and the bitterness in her tone, “Jesus, shitbird. What is wrong with you?”

He’s hardly even got the question out before Max snaps at him, “Why would you kill it!”

“Do you even know what that thing is?” Billy raises eyebrows, no patience for Max telling him what to do, but she counters with something that surprises him, “It was Dustins, he discovered it, you jerk!”

“Yeah, no. These things’ve been around longer’n any of us have been alive. And I don't care who found it first. They’re fucking monsters.”

“How do you even know what he was? You killed him.”

“It. Not him. Don’t humanize them.” Billy hisses, warning Max, “And anyways, I seen some shit kid. Don’t ask. And don’t play around with anymore of these little fuckers. Give ‘im a day or two ‘n he’ll be the size of a gray wolf. Another month or so and he’s seven feet tall.”

“But what is he?” Max demands stubbornly.

Billy answers simply, “Something you don’t want anything to do with.”

By now, the rest of Max’s friends have followed the sound of her yelling to their little showdown, and it’s Dustin, the owner of this thing, that chimes in, “But wait, does that mean you know?”

“Know what?” Max huffs, but she gets ignored, Billy firing back at Dustin, “Do you?”

All four of the kids nod at once. Billy sighs deeply, “Jesus, how the fuck did a bunch of little kids get caught up in this bullshit?”

“How did you?” These kids aren’t very original coming back at him with his own questions like this.

Again Max interjects, being left out of the questioning just making her more confused. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about?”

But again nobody acknowledges her, Billy busy answering the boys’ questions.

“Had a friend came from that lab. You know about that part too?” He clarifies, getting three attentive nods, and this time one disapproving scowl, as he explains, “Well the monsters followed ‘im. Through their portals and his head and shit, they were out in California too. That’s how I know I was right to kill that thing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Mike insists, “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, man. How else would he know about everything?” Lucas shrugs, exciting Dustin and promoting him to ask, “Do you think he knows about Eleven too?”

“I’m still here too you guys. What is going on?” Max interrupts, serving only as a reminder, Lucas turning the conversation back to Billy as he asks, “Why haven’t you told Max?”

Billy smugly tries their little deflecting shtick on them, “Could ask you the same. Why are you showing her the monsters if you ain’t gonna tell her jack about ‘em either? I was keeping her safe. You assholes were keeping her stupid.”

Max interjects, “Hey!”

“No, that’s not fair. We had to sign an NDA.” Dustin corrects, very matter of fact for a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, me too kid. It wasn’t any secret that number six escaped. I’ve had those assholes watchin’ over my shoulder for years and I didn’t even do anythin’.” Billy feels like he’s having a trauma competition with a bunch of middle schoolers, and he hates it. His tone is harsh as he demands, “Which brings us into, what the hell did you do to get caught up in all this?”

“None of your business.” Mike spits, but for the first time in the conversation, Will chimes in, “I got taken. By the demogorgon.”

“Okay. What’s that got to do with this, kid?”

“The demogorgon is what we called the big one. Before El killed it.” Lucas explains.

“Look, I don’t know who El is, but believe me when I tell you, you brats don’t know nothing. There ain’t just one of those, you know. Every last one of those annoying little fuckers like the one I just squished’ll turned into a ‘big one’.” They all look collectively defeated by that, maybe because he knows more than they do, or maybe just because they didn’t want to admit it was that bad.

But none look more ghastly than Will, who barely manages to inform them, “That’s bad. Last night, I heard them while we were trick-or-treating. They were everywhere.”

“Then we’re gonna have to do something.” Dustin declares determinedly, but Billy shuts it down right away, “No. Seriously, what the hell? All you sorry little punks are going right the fuck back home and pretending none of this never happened. If you don’t provoke ‘em, they’ll stop.”

“But they weren’t provoked when they took Will.” One of then argues, but Billys ignoring them now, turning back to a no less calm Max, “I don’t care. I ain’t doing this shit all over again. Come on, Maxine. Gotta leave your little friends to their baby ‘demogorgon’ and their world saving bullshit.”

Max scrunches her face up and argues, “Um, did you forget that I still have no idea what the hell is going on?!”

“Honestly, yeah.” Billy admits, “But s’better if you don’t ask questions. Now if you please, we gotta go.”

“No. You’re being a jerk.” Max crosses her arms and glares at him, a clear sign shes refusing to leave with him.

Billy just shrugs, “M’always a jerk. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I’m not listening to you. If my friends are going to do something, I want in on it.”

“Look what you little fuckers did.” Billy grumbles at the boys before trying to reason with his sister again, “Max. We only got fifteen minutes out of an almost half hour drive to get home. Come on.”

“This is so much bigger than that! I don’t care what your stupid dad says, I want to do something!” Her attitude gets on Billy’s nerves. That’s definitely deliberate if the spite gleaming in her cold eyes is any indication.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Then I deserve to find out!”

Billy sighs deeply, done doing this with a bunch of little kids in over their heads, “You know what, fine, but we’re stoppin’ at a payphone and you’re gonna be the one to tell my old man I’m takin’ you out for.. I don’t know, fucking ice cream or some shit. And if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you. Deal?”

Max smiles to herself at having gotten one over on him, “Deal. Where are we going though?”

“I dunno. Ask your nerds. S’their big fucking idea.” Billy grumbles, matching Max’s bitterness.

“We’ll have to call a meeting.”

“Will my basement work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think he’s getting past your mom.” Dustin nods towards Billy, the older boy rolling his eyes even though he’s not wrong, then offers, “My mom doesn’t like visitors. Maybe Will’s?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Byers will let anybody come over.”

“And she already knows what’s going on.”

They all nod again, and Billy rolls his eyes at them again while Lucas relays their decision to Max, “Alright, meet us at Will’s in an hour.”

“Why that long though? We’re all here right now.”

“Gives us time to cover our tracks, shitbird.” Billy hums in response to Max, stepping forward and asking, “What’s the damn address?”

This ‘meeting’ the twerps called was pretty much everyone in this hick town that knows the same dirty little secret as he does getting together in a tiny house and panicking. Billy and Max get fully interrogated like, a dozen times, once by the damned chief of police himself, all the while everyone is coming up with theories and plots and arguing. So much fucking arguing among this lot.

It gets to be too much pretty quickly, day five in this place and he’s already having to jump back into some of the worst things that ever happened to him. None of these people realize how big this is. Especially not the kids who just think it’s badass to fight monsters.

He leaves without telling anyone, or without anyone noticing among the chaos, to the back porch to light one up. There’re ashtrays all over the house he could use, but looming smoke in that cramped little kitchen wasn’t going to be any better than watching it curl upwards to the stars. So outside it was.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixing straight to what’s above him. He doesn’t notice the presence of another person until he hears them speak, startling slightly at the sound of a voice breaking the calm silence of a humid November night.

It’s Steve, sitting on a rusty and banged up glider at the opposite end on the porch, lit up just like he is. “So, uh. I guess you’re a part of this now?”

“I guess I am.”

Steve just nods and responds simply, effectively ending the conversation, “Right.”

But that’s not satisfying to Billy. He might appreciate peace more than what’s going on in that house, but he doesn’t like empty silence either. “What’re we all awkward like this for, Harrington? Spit out what you’re thinkin’.”

“I dunno, man.”

Billy frowns, prompting, “Come on. I know them gears are turnin’ over there. You've been quiet since we all got here.”

Steve looks away from him, but he does answer, “I dunno it’s just.. We’ve lost so much. People died because of this. People I knew. And I don’t like that anyone else is involved I guess.”

Billy scoffs, “Even me? You don’t even know me other than the asshole you met at the party last night.”

“So? What do you mean even you? I don’t want anyone anywhere near those fucking monsters. Could be my worst enemy and I’d still save them. I’d protect anyone from those things.” The haunted look behind his eyes, which seem so tired the longer Billy looks, tells Billy everything he needs to know.

He doesn’t mean to sound so soft when he asks, “What makes you so confident you can? Save ‘em I mean.”

“I fought a demogorgon myself. Well, not really by myself. Nancy and Jonathan were there. But I took a nail bat to its fucking face. Like hell I’d just let one of those things get anyone. Even you.” Steve

Billy flicks away his burnt out cigarette, sitting next to Steve on the old glider. “That’s real touching H, but I ain’t letting nobody sacrifice themselves for me. Need I remind you I’ve fought these assholes too.”

“But you told the kids you didn’t. Said it was all your friend.” Steve looks at him, sort of doubtful, but Billy blows off the remark, “No shit Sherlock. I ain’t airing all my business to any nosy brats like them.”

“I get that, but.. “ Hesitantly, he clarifies, “Is.. your friend, you know, even real?”

Billy must look at him like he grew a second head, “Shit, man, you think I’m one of those freaky experiments? No way. ‘Course he was real.”

“Oh. You said ‘was.’ Does that mean...” Steve’s voice trails off, sparing him hearing the words out loud.

“Don’t know. He got caught about two years back. Haven’t heard from him since. They might’a brought ‘im back here, they might’a killed him. I dunno.” Billy shrugs, picking at his nails while he talks so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Steve, or the fact that he’s even admitting this shit to him, “That’s why we’re here in Hawkins though. Susan’s got family over in Hope and a little ways up by Indie, so I suggested Hawkins. Just to come see where he came from. Get some closure I guess.”

“Guess he was really important to you then?” Steve smiles softly, but Billy only sighs through his nose, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll meet someone like him again.” He offers.

Somehow that sentiment immediately sets Billy on edge though, something about his tone implying that he knows, knows him and six were more than just friends, and Billy really doesn’t want to face that kind of monster tonight. He snaps, suddenly defensive, “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

Steve’s face falls a little, evidently surprised by how upset Billy is, and he tries to fix it, “Oh I just thought that, the way you talked about him- and you look so sad when you do- that he was, you know, special to you.”

“So what? You gonna leave me to the monsters or some shit for that?” Billy growls, quickly warranting more defense from Steve, “What? No way. No I.. I get it, Billy. I do. More than you probably think I do.”

Billy half nods, his shoulders untensing as he slowly recognizes Steve’s genuinity. He mumbles eventually, working through what he needs to in his head to be comfortable talking openly with him again, “Didn’t expect to be getting relationship counseling too. That your assignment on the team, mister romance expert?”

“Shut up. You’ve never seen me swing a bat before.”

“Oh believe me, I cannot wait to.”

Steve’s smile returns, something Billy is personally glad for, though he might not be ready for that realization yet. He bumps their shoulders together, to hold Billy's attention and let him know he’s genuine, “Still, in all seriousness man, I hope you can find someone else like that for you. I know it’s not really easy pickings around here.”

This time, Billy’s tone is light, his features soft and vulnerable for the boy next to him, for the way he makes him feel less weighed down, less alone in this, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

#CherryLangeChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#this is probably a disaster but I don’t care #season two au where literally none of the bad shit that happens happens except that the monsters are back #has my dialogue been too southern lately?#I feel like I’ve been writing Bills with an accent oopsie

19 notes · View notes

thepictureofsdr · 3 years

Note

Hey, what are your theories on what happens in Chain of Thorn. Like, obviously, we want Thomastair, and we want Jordelia, we also want Matthew to be happy. So, can you string a theory in which all of this happens?

hey anon thanks for the ask!!! I am so sorry this is long I just have a lot of thoughts

personally, I don't think we're going to get a fully satisfying conclusion, there's far too much happening and far too little time. This series is very different to what we've seen in the past, the main cast has a lot of emotional trauma from each other, rather than having each other to help with trauma from outside situations. they've all been through an alarming amount, and of course mental healing takes a lot of personal work and time, so either we're getting a time skip or some VERY rushed healing.

I think in this situation, my ideal COT would have all the conflict resolution in the beginning. I talked about thomastair in this post, they would get together in the beginning and we could watch them grow over the course of the book. cordelia and matthew stop hiding from their problems, cordelia goes back to actually being there for her heavily pregnant mother and chronically abandoned brother. james and cordelia sort everything out, they all have a talk with matthew and he decides to get help. while he's away for a bit, we see lucie and jesse try to make a case for him to stay alive. I feel like the family would agree so we could watch the institute petition to take him in, it really depends on what direction CC wants to go with for jesse's story. while I'm madly in love with the joshwood ship (kamala and eugenia) I hate to say it but I think we all know its not going to happen. id love to see alastair and kamala become friends, and with his support have kamala realize that she's never deserved the bullshit of anna. we'd get a confrontation scene and anna can spend a few chapters re evaluating her privilege and ignorance. with all the emotional fiascos sorted out hopefully in the first third (I hate how rushed it would be but it's only one book :/) we could have actual progress for the rest of the book, because ngl im sick of drama being dragged out with annoying tropes, interfering with easy plot solutions, and then suddenly being resolved.

no more of this miscommunication, secret keeping, lying. I think everyone just needs to open up and be honest, so we can have some actual emotional growth and healing over the course of the book as they all work together to tie up the paladin and belial situation. personally I really dont care that much about the technical plot I just really want the character arcs to be done justice.

alastair - gets to apologize to everyone properly and begins to forgive himself and heal. he also gets some apologies from the thieves, gains a friend group, and hopefully one of the parents steps in to give him the support elias ripped away. spends the book learning he holds value and his trauma wasn't his fault, that he can move on and he's loved.

thomas - gets closure for barbara and learns to let himself exist beyond the "kind" box everyone shoves him in. he and alastair have had wonderful communication from the beginning so they just need to keep doing what they're doing

cordelia - realizes she isn't at fault for the paladin situation and forgives herself. is open with james and they properly get married

james - is very complicated. I think he deserves a lot of time to sort his own emotions out, have some time alone, have talks with the people in his life, just have the essential "hi im actually in love with you talk" with cordelia at the beginning then spend the rest of the book healing while also helping out with the plot, hopefully ends the book in a good place emotionally.

matthew - spends some time away to deal with alcoholism. comes back in a much better, sober, and stable state, so he can recognize his own feelings and have talks with his important people, especially finally letting others help him with the guilt of the baby situation. of course they all still love him and he begins to believe his love is real. begins to learn to love himself and like who he is. I dont think he was ever really in love with cordelia (talked about here) so id like to see them fall back into that easy friendship.

lucie and jesse - im not really an expert on their arc, so id love to see them slow down the relationship now that one isn't on deaths door. id love to see jesse get to be there for grace properly and watch lucie be a badass and defend jesse's right to exist bc we all know the clave is gonna have issue with that.

christopher just needs to be appreciated please

kamala - gains some independence, realizes the manipulative shit anna's been pulling isn't okay, confronts her and realizes that she deserves more. solidifies her love for herself and gets to be open with who she is

anna - gets called out on her privileged, arrogant, ignorant, sometimes cruel view of relationships and fixes herself up bc I just know CC is gonna put her w kamala.

I genuinely dont know what to feel about grace. she's been through so much, she's cute with christopher but she's caused so much pain. immediate forgiveness would be BS but she still deserves some compassion. I have no idea what could happen w her, hopefully she could talk things out with james and matthew and have a pretty decent redemption arc. get this girl a parental figure and some friends stat

also with all of this emotional maturing id like the thieves to have a talk. they genuinely love each other so much but I think they've all spent too much time neglecting or focusing on each other. their friendship has a lot of potential to be incredibly close and strong and healthy. also they could have such fun friendships with alastair id like to see them forgive him fully.

we dont need all of these characters to be perfect by the end but id like some assurances that their healing has started with support and healthy foundations. there could be a time skip where they deal with the plot, we skip the healing and see them all happy and healthy in a few years but who knows.

tl;dr stupid miscommunication resolved in the beginning > emotional healing can happen across the book > plot gets resolved without miscommunication getting in the way

#answered

17 notes · View notes

mrsbhandari · 4 years

Text

wish you were sober

a/n: hey its a random ajay fic no one asked for fjkdlkjf;lskdj;f ANYWAYS im still working on that athlete au cuz its a BITCH but thats fine. i hope you like this one, it turned out way longer than i wanted it to oop--

words: 4k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, light sexual harassment (brian crandall aka asshole of the year), like kinda suggestive if you squint

summary: ajay getting roped into the bullshit(tm)

tagging: @rulesofthebeneath, @theeccentricbibliophile

It was near midnight when she called, voice loud over the speaker of his phone and face lighting up the screen. He blinked blearily, unsure of what was really happening and what he should specifically do about this girl who called him and expected him to...what? Drop everything for her? Race over to Brian’s house and bring her home?

I hate my fucking life, he thought as he pulled on some jeans and grabbed his keys. She looked crazy over the phone, speech slurring and loud laughs directed at something off screen that he wasn’t sure he really wanted to see. She yelled that he needed to get over there and hung the phone up abruptly, not allowing him to get any words in before she left, making his heart beat at the possibilities of what might happen if he didn’t pick her up.

When he pulled up to the large mansion overrun with rowdy high schoolers, he couldn’t hold in his sigh. He was really traipsing into the lion’s den, looking for a fellow mouse that liked to wear a predator’s pelt, ignoring the looks of hunger pointed his way by the big dogs of both Hearst and Berry. He figured Skye would be upstairs in her room or sleeping over at someone else’s house, so being saved by her was out. Erin was on a trip with her family and Rory was practicing lines at their house, so he was sure that if Ajay was going to get Bailey, it was going to be by himself.

He didn’t even know why she was here, and why the hell is he supposed to come get her? She probably tagged along with Casey, so why shouldn’t her own brother get control of her? She doesn’t even like me, he thought, grimacing and ignoring the odd stares at his behavior. He seemed to be doing well at hiding his crush on her in favor of the play, but no one told him how hard it was going to be with her! She smiled so easily, and he was just supposed to act like it didn’t make his hands shake and his heart beat faster and his mind race with thoughts of her lips on his and and and…

I hate my fucking life, he repeated to himself, making his way out to the backyard and the pool, keeping his head down to avoid any unwanted contact with people who could most definitely snap his spine in half if they wanted to. His eyes ran over the different sections of the backyard, focusing on the beer pong table that a certain blonde ponytail was near, making his heart skip a beat. He walked over, silently waiting for her to finish her turn and standing awkwardly until she did. What’s the etiquette for this kind of thing? He didn’t have to worry about it long because she sunk her shot and raised her arms up in a high V, shouting and laughing her elation at almost winning the entire game. He let out a small oomph! when she turned to him and wrapped long arms around his neck, seemingly noticing him for the first time.

“Oh! Ajay!” Her breath stank of cheap beer, but she was so close to him and her body was so warm that he couldn’t find it within himself to care. “I’m winning!” She drew out the word, yet he hung onto every syllable like it was his lifeline, finding it to be the only thing keeping him from pressing his lips to hers, party be damned. A curse from her beer pong opponent brought him back to reality, making him pull back from her but keep a hand on his waist to ensure she didn’t fall drunkenly.

“I’m here to take you home, Bailey. You called me?” He had to contain himself when she pouted, finding it to be the cutest expression ever, but she quickly turned away and slammed back the shots in the cups on the table. “Bailey, what the fu--” he began, but she let out a loud, giddy laugh.

“I haven’t even gone for a swim yet?” She took a few uncertain steps, stripping her shirt off and then shimmying her skirt to the grass. Ajay shot glares at a few Hearst football players who whistled and catcalled her before following her protectively, hiding her body from the group of boys. “Ajay, join me!” She was painfully drunk, stumbling and moving far too loosely to be considered sober or dignified.

“No, we can swim when you aren’t wasted, c’mon…” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few girls filming them, so he turned his body towards their camera to hide her again. She had been dressed for it, a cute black bikini accentuating her curves, but there was something inherently sweet yet dirty about how exposed she was. He knew it would sound selfish if he ever said it out loud, but it didn’t sit right with him, the fact that she wasn’t only doing this for him. She was drunk, and she barely even noticed him there, and even if she wasn’t drunk, she would never look at him the way he wanted her to. “Bailey, seriously, let me take you home.”

“I’ve got laps first!” She walked over to the diving board and carefully stepped onto it, almost losing her balance at its wobble.

“Hey, this chick is gonna jump drunk!” Brian yelled, laughing cruelly at the crowd of other high schoolers who meandered over to the side of the pool to watch. Ajay wanted to yell at how they should be focused on helping her instead of going viral, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears, the predators too preoccupied with the smell of fresh blood. He turned his attention back to Bailey, who was posing for a dive, which she didn’t quite follow through on as she made her leap from the board. Before he could catch her, she was in the water with a splash, providing lovely entertainment for the top of the food chain guffawing at her jump.

“Bailey!” he yelled, leaning forward as much as he could without falling in after her. She rose to the surface, but was struggling, splashing the water and taking gulping breaths that never seemed to be enough as she kept slipping under. Shit shit shit! He thought, quickly ripping off his shirt and jacket and dropping his pants, disregarding the suggestive sounds falling out of his classmates’ mouths. Right now, he needed to help Bailey; he would deal with his pending payout from the possibility of a Buzzfeed article later. He threw his glasses on the small pile of his clothes as he jumped.

The sudden feeling of the water enveloping him was a shock, but he ran entirely on adrenaline to get over it quickly and swim over to Bailey, wrapping an arm around her waist and hugging her close in the water. She was still struggling against him, unable to stop the panic that was taking over her heart, but he found the edge of the pool and the ladder next to the diving board, quickly pushing her to sit on one of the metal steps. When her fingers wrapped around the rail, she calmed down quicker than expected, allowing him a moment of relief to catch his breath.

“Aw, damn, I was hoping I would have to administer some CPR!” Brian whistled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the pair in the pool. Suddenly, Ajay was hit with the realization that he was here...with Bailey...at a party...with a shit ton of high schoolers...in his underwear...sopping wet.

I hate my fucking life. No matter how many times it ran through his head, a gorgeous face would pop up in his mind shortly after, making his features soften and his breathing slow. With a jolt, he felt her moving in front of him and opened his eyes just in time to watch her ass pass directly in front of his face, making him blush and look away. He climbed out after her, the reality of just what he did hitting him as he looked around at the other teenagers, all staring at him and Bailey like they were the only food available for miles. He found a towel on a table and handed it to her, but she offered it back to him with a flirty smile.

“I think you need this more than me,” she whispered, eyes glancing downward for a split second before meeting his once more. He let out a cough and wrapped the towel around his waist, secretly happy he wore black, not-embarrassing boxers today. Collecting his pile of clothes from the side of the pool, he sneers at Brian when the boy stopped in front of them.

“You think you can just make a mess at my party and leave without paying an exit fee?” He turned to Bailey, a sickly smile showing too many teeth and only making Ajay hurry to reach for his jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. “A kiss from the party girl?”

“I think the fuck not,” Ajay said, tone low and threatening as he zipped up the thin layer over Bailey’s half-naked body. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him and willing her to stop shaking at his side. She was suspiciously quiet, but he didn’t have time to worry about her; he needed to get her out of this party.

“Oh, c’mon--”

“You lay a hand on her and I report you for sexual harassment, which will go down even worse when the cops look at the evidence of underage drinking. I’ll say it one time, and one time only: Fuck. Off.” He hid his satisfaction at the way Brian gaped at him and stepped out of the way. They silently walked off, Ajay’s hands full with his clothes in one hand and a drunk girl that he was secretly pining after in the other. He looked down at her briefly, eyeing her through her thick lashes that nearly closed over a sleepy gaze. Before he stepped back into the house, he looked over his shoulder to see Brian glaring after them. “Take that ‘exit fee’ and shove it up your ass!” With a resolute nod, he made his way through the house and to his car, surrounded by teenagers that he shooed away.

“‘Jay…” she drawled, the first word she said in the past 5 minutes making him flush. “Where are we going?”

“Well, my house is closer, so I’ll text your brother and call your mom to say you’re staying over at my place.”

“Hm…” was all she hummed, allowing herself to be strapped in by him. He stayed outside the driver’s side to pull his pants on, but stopped with his shirt in his hands when she reached over and rolled the window down. “Leave it off!” She sounded like a child and he wanted to laugh, so bad, to just laugh with her and not worry about what the hell this party was and what the hell was going to happen in the morning and what the hell he was going to do when she was spending the night in his bed.

But he couldn’t.

“Sorry, Bailey,” he said, slipping the shirt down and smiling at her pained whines.

“Such a Debby Downer,” she slurred. She looked back out of her window, pouting and ignoring him when he offered his phone, opened to Spotify for her.

“I’ll make it up to you. Pick some music.” That seemed to distract her enough for him to get going, flinching at the volume she played WAP at and screamed the lyrics to. There was something intimate about this as well, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of how sweet it felt, wafting over his senses like being down the street from the bakery. You knew that the closer you got, the stronger the smell, and the more at home you felt amidst the warm pastries that lined the window. The closer he drove to his house, the more inevitable being close to her was, and he couldn’t get it out of his head as he switched his attention from the road to her hand movements as she rapped the lewd lyrics, fueled entirely by the alcohol.

She whined more when he turned down the volume as he turned into his neighborhood, but he managed to convince her to be quiet with a single finger to his lips, something she seemed to focus on for far too long to even be attributed to the alcohol. She luckily kept this behavior up when he ushered her inside and to his room as quickly as possible while still keeping her from falling into several of Mohit’s loud toys and the large furniture that seemed to be ten times as dangerous at night.

“I felt like I was on Wipeout,” Bailey gasped when he closed the door, voice entirely too loud for the quiet stillness of the room. He was about to scold her, but then she collapsed on the bed, making it creak and add to the genuine noise she brought everywhere she went. His heart decided that he liked the noises that were associated with her before his mind ever caught up, something that was happening a lot more nowadays when he saw her walk into the auditorium, ponytail swinging and smile wide.

“Uh, here,” he said, offering a large t-shirt and some old pajama pants that were too small for him to her before turning around and covering his eyes. He heard the unzipping of his jacket and the ruffling of clothes, keeping his eyes shut under his hands as he waited for her with bated breath. He hated how his mind wandered to her even when he didn’t want it to, his eyelids seemingly tattooed with her bright eyes and curious gaze, always finding his glances with pinpoint accuracy that left him stuttering and looking away. She was here, in his room, drunk. Just a few feet away and he could reach out his hands to touch her, feel her skin under his palm, run the pads of fingers over her collarbone, the scar on her shoulder, the freckles on her cheek. His touch could linger for as long as he wanted it to, because she’d be looking forward to it as much as he was, and she would pull his face down for a kiss that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

“You can look now,” was what a tentative voice behind him said, jolting him out of his fantasy and making him turn around. No matter how much mental preparation he could put his mind through, he never could fully be ready for the sight of the sight of his large shirt slipping off her shoulder, revealing the collarbone he had just been thinking about a few seconds before. She sat cross legged on the sheets, making her seem smaller than she really was.

“You must be tired.”

“I’m not.”

“You looked ready to pass out at Brian’s, don’t bullshit.” He sounded unnecessarily harsh which made him feel even worse than he already did for her as she cast a glance down at her hands. He sighed. “Sorry, I was just worried.”

“About me?”

“Well, you almost drowned, so yeah. I was worried.” Her gaze was still on her hands and she hummed, too full of thoughts for someone who probably couldn’t keep them straight.

“Was that the only reason?”

“You talk too much. Aren’t you supposed to be passed out by now? I’ve never dealt with a drunk person before.” He saw her cheeks grow bigger and figured she was smiling; it made him smile, too, an indicator that he was too far gone to ever deny feelings for her that flitted around his mind like cobwebs. He shook them away to force himself to listen to her speak once more.

“I just…” She trailed off but stopped herself from releasing anything else, lips tight and silence awkward.

“It’s fine.” His voice was too hurried, he sounded too panicked, and he cringed to himself when he got the simple words out. Damage control. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” She just hummed again, and he hated the way he analyzed it, searching for the hidden meaning as if the vibrations would unlock some new achievement, leaving a letter in his pocket that would lay out all the things felt between the two. The more he thought about it though, the more he realized he would be afraid to read it. “You take the bed.”

“What? Why?” Her voice raised unexpectedly, enough so that even she seemed surprised by the sudden raise in volume that was met with another finger to his lips.

“It’s polite, I’m not making you sleep on the floor drunk.”

“Just sleep with me.” The alcohol was clouding her mind, letting more pass through her filter without a second thought.

“I can’t do--”

“Why not?”

The challenging tone made him pause, unsure if she really meant anything by the insistent way she clenched her fists and stared up at him, nose scrunched in an adorable pout that made his heart melt. He could feel his resolve crumbling, which is surprising since he was always seen as one of the most stubborn students in the theatre department. Someone shouldn’t be able to wear him down this much unless they were holding a gun to his head.

Or maybe they were just looking at him with such a determination in their eyes that it made him stop and consider the options for once.

“If I do this, you’ll sleep?”

“Yes,” she sighed more than spoke, scooting backwards on the bed and edging over to leave room for him. He wondered if she could already hear the beating of his heart, loudly rushing into his ears as he tried to calmly walk over to the side of the bed. It all felt domestic, like they were husband and wife, but he felt too loud to be considered casual. His feet pounded the wood below him and his large hands scraped against the sheets. He left a layer under him so as to separate him from Bailey, but it proved unsuccessful as she just climbed (stumbled) back out and then got back in on top of the same layer, getting rid of his barrier and only making him sweatier. He was still in jeans, they noticed at the same time, and she looked up at him expectantly.

“You can change your pants you know.” She raised an arm to her eyes, closing and covering them. “I won’t look.”

You can if you want to.

The sentence was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find it within himself to say it, opting instead to just silently get up and change, slipping his legs into pants that he only realized matched hers when he climbed back beside her. When he settled with his back against the headboard, he nearly yelped when her hand found his thigh, running her fingers over the soft material.

“We match.”

“Yeah. Unintentionally, I swear.” He stiffened when she nudged closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t mind. I think it’s cute.”

He never expected that “Bailey Called Something I Did Cute” to be written on his tombstone, but here he was: murdered by the shape of her mouth forming a word like that in reference to him.

“Can I kiss you?” The question was unhurried and whispered in his ear, but it hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending tingles over his entire body as he flinched away from her.

“What?” Half of his body was off the bed as she leaned closer to him, cupping his right cheek in one hand. She still smelled like shitty beer and chlorine, a combination that should’ve made him gag, but she managed to make seem like the highest priced perfume. It made him want to lean in right back, slot his lips against her plush ones and just accept that it happened, but he also knew that going back on his word to the rest of the theatre department was an awfully shitty move.

“I want to kiss you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“What’s the saying? ‘Drunk words are sober thoughts’?”

“You want to kiss me when you’re sober, too?”

“All the time.” His breath hitched; Wasn’t expecting that development. “I wish I didn’t have to kiss Rory in the play. I think they like me and I don’t want to lead them on, but it’s so hard when the kiss is so anticipated. It’s especially hard when I have a crush on my director. ”

Ah, the kiss, Ajay remembered, slightly ashamed at all the times they’d rehearsed the scene but he would always call for them to stop just before the climax of it. He knew it was kind of pervy, but he really only wanted to watch his crush kiss someone else the minimum amount of times he was required to: the four times they were performing the show, nothing less and absolutely nothing more.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say you’ll kiss me.”

“What about the play?”

“It’s your rule. You can decide if you want to break it with me.” She didn’t know he had already decided months ago when he saw her at auditions that if the opportunity ever made itself known, he would break a thousand rules just to feel her skin against his one time. And now he seemed to be giving in, leaning in closer and closer until her breath was hot against his, shared between the two like a secret.

“I’ll kiss you,” he decided, finally closing the gap between them and kissing her. His lungs and chest felt tight, but any concerns about the play, the party, or the bitter taste of beer on his tongue melted away as she kissed him back fervently. He figured he should be impressed with how good she still was at kissing despite being wasted, but his thoughts were cut off as she pulled back. He was suddenly self-conscious, concerned about how good he was and the line of spit that still connected them. “What--”

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she breathed, chest heaving with the excitement and the alcohol still in her system. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Ajay.”

Ajay loved music, but he decided that if he had to give up every single record he owned just to hear his name fall out of her mouth again, he would hand them over in a heartbeat. Despite the way his heart was beating out of his chest, he forced himself to sound casual as he looked down at her. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, you dork.” A drunken smile that stopped his heart and made his mind click trying to story it in his memory slipped onto her face, and she dropped her head back on his shoulder. “A long time,” she repeated softly, and before he could respond, she was asleep.

He gently lifted her up and laid her down flat on the bed, making sure to keep close to her and her warmth. Just before he turned the light out, he pressed a kiss to her head, savoring the picture of her sleeping so soundly next to him, clutching his arm and one leg thrown over his waist.

“Me too, Bailey.”

#Ajay Bhandari #hssca ajay #ajay bhandari x mc #ajayxmc #ajay x mc #hss #choices hssca #hssca #hssca mc #hssca fanfic #choices high school story #high school story: class act #high school story class act #choices high school story class act

84 notes · View notes

ubernoxa · 4 years

Text

The Token: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 10: A Little Black Book

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. Did Michelle think it through as she chopped her hair? Nope. All she knew was that she wanted to make it on the strip. If she had to mascarade as a guy, so it shall be.

Chapter Summary: After Duff accidentally reviews that she is a girl she tried to not get kicks out of the band. The little black book part is inspired by @niksixx

MASTERLIST

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @achiweyow @queen-crue

I had never knew a room filled with music could be so silent. The notes that were once filling the small room had gone silent. No, the record Slash had chosen earlier hadn’t stopped play. Instead my brain had gotten rid of the sound. I focused on my breathing, frozen in place while my mind raced a thousand miles per a second.

“Slash...I..” I stood up and started to walk over towards him as I spoke. Maybe he would be okay with this? Maybe this wouldn’t destroy my position in the band.

Before I could continue, Slash shot up and walked past me heading towards the stairs, practically running me down in the process. As he bumped into me, I lost balance and fell back onto the couch.

Fuck. There was no way this wouldn’t have repercussions.

I felt like a mute as I tried to say something to

Slash. I didn’t know if it was my brain or my lips, but one of them was failing me.

“Aren’t you going to fuckin say something?” I screamed across the room. Slash froze when he was halfway up the stairs.

“Leave me the fuck alone.....just...what the fuck....Michelle.” He didn’t yell. I expected him to scream at me. He had every right to be mad or angry or furious. I would be the first to say that what I was doing was by no means normal. What I was doing was fucking insane.

I tried to keep my breathing even and hid my face in my hands. It was moments like this where I wished that I still had my long hair. It was a curtain for me to hide behind, but here I was still on a couch burying my head in my hands trying to figure out what the actual fuck I could do to save this situation.

I practically jumped out of my skin when I felt something cold touch my shoulder. I looked up to see Izzy silently offering me a glass of cold water. I began to sip the water, hoping that maybe it would sober me up.

“What the fuck do I do Izzy?” I hadn’t meant for it to sound desperate, but it had.

“Fuck if I know Shelly. Just go talk to him. He is probably really confused,” Izzy shrugged joining me of the ratty couch.

“Well he seemed pissed off”

“He has every right to be!”

“But Izzy, you weren’t mad. You didn’t seem to care,” I quickly shot back.

“Well first off, I was rather annoyed that you lied to me.”

“Really?” I turned towards him. I wanted to slap myself at my own stupidity. Of course he was mad at me. I LIED TO HIM.

“Well yeah,” he laughed back.

“Why were you so calm about it? You never yelled at me,” I sent him a confused look as I spoke.

“I don’t care if you are a chick or a guy. I know some do, but I don’t give a damn. Also, it was actually kinda fun to mess with you,” he admitted before finishing off his beer.

“Does Slash care?”

“No, I don’t see why he would honestly.”

“Then why is he mad? Why did he storm off?” I shot back.

“Shelly, you ripped off your shirt and said I am a girl!’ Not very subtle of you. Finding out your bandmate is a chick is a lot to proceeds...trust me,” I rolled my eyes at his reply.

I eyed the staircase for a couple of second before deciding to head upstairs to talk to him.

When I stood up I felt Izzy grab my wrist and pull me back.

“What the fuck Izzy, I gotta go talk to him!” I shot back.

“Just let him simmer, you’ve had a long week,” I ignored Izzy’s comment as I headed up the stairs. I could have sworn he said something as he watched me walk up the stairs, but I ignored it.

I remained frozen in front of the only closed door. I took a deep breath before knocking.

After a couple of moments of silence I tried knocking again, but once again silence filled the air. Did he escape? Maybe he crawled out a window or something.

I slowly opened the door, and was met by a loud groan.

“Izzy, this isn’t like some of the bull shit we deal with Axl. You don’t need to fix it. Just leave me the fuck alone...” his voice trailed off as our eyes met while I walked into the small room.

His room was dark. The only reason I could see him was a dim light outlining his features coming from a streetlight.

“Well I’m not Izzy,” I stood awkwardly in the doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Then who the fuck are you?” I remained frozen at his question.

When he leaned forward, the light finally showed his face; however, I couldn’t look at him in the eyes. Instead I was distracted. I was distracted by the snake that was casually wrapped around his arm. I felt petrified as I looked the creature in the eyes. By the way it kept me frozen in place, it was like the snake was plucked from Medusa’s head.

I heard him chuckled and I immediately looked him in the eyes, pulling my attention from the snake.

“You ever seen a snake before?”

“Yeah, I saw a garden snake once....this one is...a little bigger,” this earned some laughter from slash.

“Yeah...she is a little bigger,” I could tell that he was finding my uneasiness hilarious as he continued to chuckle at my reaction.

I sat on the ground, not inching towards the snake as I watched it flick its tongue in the air.

“Is...is that...is that some sort of hissing?” I focused on my breathing as I spoke, making sure to keep a calm relaxed diminutive. You’re supposed to remain calm around bears, so maybe..maybe it would work the same for snakes. At the end of the day, it couldn’t make things worse.

“No, quite the contrary. She is just tasting the air,” Slash casually responded as he lifted his arm up to get a better look at the snake.

“Are you sure....” I spoke not much louder than a whisper. I made sure to keep my voice soft, not wanting to provoke the creature.

His laughter filled the room once again.

“Yes I’m sure. She isn’t clinging onto me any tighter. She’s just chilling. Wanna come closer?” I froze again at his offer.

Hell no.

Hell the fuck no.

There was no way in hell that I was getting any closer to the hissing beast than I have to.

It wasn’t until he spoke again that I began to contemplate taking a few steps closer.

“Come on, no need to worry. I think she likes you,” I nodded as he spoke and slowly scootered forward, my eyes never leaving the snake.

“Just remain calm as you are, and you should be fine,” I nodded at Slash’s words. Just remain calm, and everything will be fine, I repeated to myself over and over again. Im not going to die today.

Within no time I felt like I was face to face with the beast. How many snakes did he have? I hoped just one. I was in no position or mood to meet a second snake tonight. I froze again when I made eye contact with the snake. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I felt a calming sense flow through my body as I stared down the creature.

I looked up to see Slash smiling down at me as he stroked the beast.

“Is it tightening around your hand?” I whispered.

“No...she is still calm,” I relaxed as Slash replied. At least someone in this rundown place didn’t hate me.

My eyes stayed focused on the beast as he explored Slash’s hand. Slithering around every which way it pleased, clearly causing no harm to Slash. I looked up to see a wide grin grow across his face.

“What?” I inquired as I felt his gaze on me.

“Nah it’s nothing,” he immediately shrugged it off, but I wasn’t taking such a lame excuse as an answer.

“Hmmm...I beg to differ,” I teased back.

“No..well...it’s just that the last person to meet my little girl here was Axl..and he...,” I interrupted him before he could continue.

“Let me guess, your little girl here didn’t like him.”

“You are spot on,” he smiled back, once again looking at his little girl...as he called it.

“Well she isn’t the first and probably won’t be the last girl to hate him,” I teased back, my own laughter erupting and filling the room.

“Shh, not too loud. She likes it quiet,” Slash said, his smile never leaning his face as he tried to hide his laughter.

I nodded and looked back at the snake. A comfortable silence filled the room as the two of us watched his snake relax on his hand. It was rather clear that since the snake appeared to like me, slash hadn’t cussed me out or bitten my head off yet.

“Why?” Slash broke the silence as he spoke.

“Why what?” I quickly asked back without thinking. He sent me an ‘area you fucking kidding me’ look before rephrasing his question.

“Why are you pretending to be a guy?”

“I was tired of being a girl,” I shrugged back leaning into what I could only assume to be a nightstand.

I could tell by the look on Slash’s face that he was no please with my answer.

“Why?” I rolled my eyes as he acted like my little three year old cousin repeatedly asking questions.

I let out a sigh as I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt.

“I was tired of all the bull shit that comes with being a chick on the strip! Do you know how hard it is for a girl to make it on the strip? Whenever I show up to a gig, I’m immediately treated as either A) a potential sex symbol or B) someone who knows absolutely nothing about playing music. For Christ’s sake, if I had a dollar for every time I had someone mansplain to me on how to play, I wouldn’t ever go hungry. I just...it’s exhausting....and I just wanted a change,” I sighed before I took a sip of the vodka that I was holding.

“How much of it is true,” I could feel my eyebrows scrunch as Slash spoke.

“How much of what is true?” I asked back, trying to get my mind wrapped around what he was getting at.

“The rumors I have heard about you and Pixie?” I laughed at his question. There were hundreds of rumors of what happened between me and my old band.

“Slash, man you’re going to have to be more specific,” I replied before offering him the bottle which he quickly took.

“Are you really that good at sucking cock that it got Pixie priority gigs,” he seemed hesitant as he spoke. Of course his first question was going to be sex related. I don’t know why I was surprised.

I let a laugh escape me as I shook my head, trying to find the right way to reply to Slash.

“I have never sucked cock or had sex to get a gig. It’s against my code,” I causally responded back as he handed the bottle back to me.

“Ohh,” he seemed a tad disappointed as he spoke.

“Why are you disappointed by that?” I shot back forgetting that there was a snake in the room.

“Well....if things ever went south with the band...you could...well you know...take one for the team,” he teased back. I couldn’t help but laugh at his response.

“It’s good to know we have a well thought out backup plan,” I teased before taking another sip of vodka.

Before we could continue, I heard a knock at the door, causing an abrupt end to our conversation.

“Slash did you kill our bassist?” I turned to see Izzy poking his head through the busted door.

“Nah, still breathing,” I felt a smile flash across my face as Izzy walked into the room.

“At least for now,” Slash added causing a soft giggle to escape my lips.

“Was I interrupting something,” I watched as Izzy appeared tense as he sat down next to me.

“Not really, Duff...uhh...Michelle..was just debunking some rumors I’ve heard about him...her,” I smiled as he tried to correct himself and use the correct pronouns. It was sweet of him, at least he was trying. To be honest, I truly didn’t care which pronouns his used, but I still appreciated his attempt.

“Well, I got a question then,” Izzy paused before he faced.

“Are you really that good at sucking cock to get gigs,” there was no force on Earth that would have been able to help me contain my laughter. If I was sober I would have been annoyed with their childish questions, but I was far from sober. I wondered if this question was on every guy’s mind. I wondered if maybe he was jealous.

“What?” Izzy immediately asked as laughter erupted into the room.

Once my laughter calmed down I turned towards Izzy, “I never sucked cock for gigs, but I am pretty good.”

“Says who?” I watched as a smirk grew on Izzy’s face.

“Says my little black book,” I teased back. I felt my heart quicken as I felt Izzy’s eyes on me.

“Ohh please tell me you don’t actually keep a book,” Slash stole my attention as he spoke.

“Fuck no, it’s just an expression,” I replied. I froze as I looked at the pair as they remained motionless in front of me.

“No...you guys don’t....that’s not a thing right?” I was baffled as they remained silent in front of me.

“Seriously? I expected this out of Nikki Sixx, but not you guys....” before I could continue, Slash interrupted me.

“Don’t worry, we don’t,” Slash motioned towards him and Izzy as the pair laughed.

“Wow, Axl fucking Rose has a little black book? I knew he had an ego..but Holy Shit..I didn’t think it was that big,” I laughed at the thought of Axl writing down the names of girls and where/how to find them to have sex.

“I wouldn’t be laughing too hard..you were almost in that book,” Slash added, causing me to freeze in place.

“No...seriously ?!?” I shot back.

“Can you blame him?” I turned my attention back towards Izzy. I watched him take another sip of his beer before eyeing me over.

Just like the snake that was wrapped around Slash’s arm, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my mouth around Izzy’s cock.

49 notes · View notes

magnaflourious-nerdity · 4 years

Text

But Through Darkened Glasses

(You Need Chaos in Your Soul)

" And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

There was a prompt on some Halloween themed fandom challenge for October. Monday's was 'Black Cat' and for whatever reason. This is what happened. Bc im just going with that kind of thing lately I guess, I decided to spit it out here. I didn't beta this thoroughly enough I guarantee bc im lazy and also the fandom is like 20 people big, and generally full of forgiving, lovely, content starved ppl. The last point I am extrapolating from my own experiences of being in the fandom, haha.

_____

It's weird, he thinks, twining in and out of the fence post he's been following for the past few minutes, trying to get his bearings now that he's been saddled with twice his accustomed amount of limbs. It's weird that I'm not more freaked out about this. He pauses, grooms himself briefly and crosses the street under the lamp light. The bulb blows out halfway across. He doesn't even jump this time. Maybe it's a bonus of having nine lives, you don't worry so much about one or two practice runs. His ears twitch minutely as the wind shifts and brings a low, buzzing, sound sighing through the fronds of the willow at the edge of his yard. They're even more sensitive now that he's a cat- the ears that is -twitching at the slightest whisper of a sound in the night.

He doesn't even bother to slow his pace as he hops the fence and passes through his own back yard, simply fixing jade eyes on the window he knows to be Becky's, turning them away again with the knowledge that there's no way she'd be at home tonight. Not on a night where she's basically been given free reign to go full-tilt feral social-climber on every party in town. There's no gaining entrance into his lair in his current state (nor is he particularly keen to meet Rasputin face to face right now either) and his parents are out of the question. Can't guarantee his dad won't be too drunk this late on a Halloween to tie a bottle rocket to his newly acquired tail. Don't really care to see him if he's sober either. Or just in general

Instead, His attention remains fixed on the sound he'd heard in the distance before, as he cuts across lawns and ducks down the well trod neighborhood backalleys, avoiding any heards of desperate, last-minute, trick-or-treaters or gaggles of drunken party-goers he catches wind of.

He's at the point of shrugging off the weird sounds he's been hearing as the result of some sort of particularly lumbering rodent in the underbrush, turning his attention instead to the little flashes of lamp light glinting off of abandoned candy wrappers. Batting at one every now and then non-committaly. It wasn't as exciting as one might think, being a cat. Kind of a snooze even, as far as curses went.

Well, at least it had the wherewithal and the courtesy as a curse to take aesthetics into account.

He was definitely the kind of cat his father would have chased off the lawn with a bb gun, if it had showed up at their door looking for food. He examines the pitch-colored shroud of his newly acquired fur as best as he can, glad- in a removed sort of way -that at least he was a proper Halloween cat. Scruffy and mysterious, not one of those opulently fluffy, pearl-colored, fancy-feast models.

There was dignity in being a black cat on Halloween. There was style! There was pinache!

A whisper, a low hum beyond his perception.

There were secrets. There was power. All of it his for the taking now that the opportunity had been unwittingly granted.

He'd read a legend once- in one of his massive, dusty, volumes on the lore of shapeshifters, dating back to antiquity -that on Halloween, black cats were at the most transient state of their existances. They could- if they could find the right chinks in reality's armour, where the space between things overlapped and folded in on itself like challah -use the threads surrounding and connecting the worlds to perform any number of impossibilities. Assume other forms, be anywhere at once, sew prosperity or discord at a whim.

It was said that those creatures most in-tune with with the pathways could even travel between them all. All of the worlds bookended against and, at certain times like tonight, overlapping their own. Those most-adept cats could slip in and out of dimensions as easily as a shadow slips under doorway.

I mean, I guess now is as good a time as any to test that hypothesis, Merton mused, slit-pupils zeroing in on the slightest movement down the street from Tommy's house, which was naturally where his slinky, purposeful, wandering had taken him. There were no other thoughts to it really. After all. He and Tommy were each other's lifeboats, lashed together to weather whatever bullshit came their way, side-by-side.

At least where finding ourselves on the wrong side of dark magic is concerned. He amended to himself. There was no one else here so he wasn't sure why he even bothered really.

He hesitated silently under a street lamp. The crackling sound of the light flickering above him sounded grating to his sensitive ears. He could understand Tommy's super-hearing-based woes a lot better now at least. With his gaze shifting uneasily between the safety of Tommy's house- the safety of his company, and of his unconditional presence, and of his unwavering dedication to Merton's protection despite the workload that it was turning out to be- and back to the subtle, but suddenly noticeable undulations of the shadows at the farthest edge of the neighbor's hedgerows. An opportunity had manifested itself.

Almost neigh-imperceptably, something shifts in the air, pervading every cranny of the now darkened street.

A moment of choice for Merton. The unexplored possibilities mount in his head, weighed against the cons of breaching the utterly unknowable. He is bewitched, rooted to the spot. Eve on the precipice of the apple, by virtue of both temptation and fear.

He'd gone to more extreme means, on less intel, for far more ridiculous pursuits. This was just a short walk to the end of the street. But he hesitates nonetheless, his own mind overriding the detatched curiosity that grew into him- into his bones -the longer he was attached to this form. He feels the pull of the interstitial static of the spaces between space, it hums and pulses gently along to the music of the spheres. Soft, inviting, unknowable.

He thinks of slipping between the phases of reality. Could he regain his body on his own that way? Could he pick a better one? He pads gently forward, going only a few, cautious steps, questioning himself all the while and trying to brace his senses against the hypnotic call of whatever the netherspace was wordlessly offering to him. He is waiting to see when the time will be right. If it will be at all. What will come of it.

I can fix this on my own for once, right now. He tells himself . I can learn so much. About everything. I can fix so much if I can just...

The pull of the place between is Urgent. Heady. Disorienting, he finds. It beckons him more insistently with each passing moment, and every sound made in the darkness is a soft, sighing, call to action. To adventure. To satisfy all of his human spawned, feline fueled, curiosities alike.

But another sound, this one from inside Tommy's house- still nearly right next to him -severs the tie. It's Tommy's laugh, loud and sharp and as intimately familiar to him as a siren song of his own.

Tommy. His tail lifts up into the air of its own accord as he starts to correct course towards the tree in Tommy's back yard, one which frequent exposure to the Dawkin's household tells him leads to the- usually wide open -2nd floor window landing of his best friend's bedroom.

The whispering from behind him grows more urgent as he turns away from it. Easier to discern from the normal night-music of Pleasantville. It grows in pitch, insistent, like a vulture pecking at the stripped down bones of its roadside carrion.

Despite his growing unease, Merton still feels the gravity of the thin places of the world eying him up, clawing at him. He realizes, with detached horror, that if the last few minutes are anything to go by, in this form, he isn't even sure if he can resist it at all. Much less how long his moment of self possession can last.

Merton, as a cat, finds himself to be mostly a loose collection of animal instincts and a haphazard jigsaw of the the bits of the world that don't seem to want to fit right with himself; all of this sewed up into a body thats more suggestive of physical form than equitable to one. He doesn't know how to even begin to navigate the puzzle of resisting the undertow of the universe as it digs its fingers solidly into the newest and most vulnerable parts of his shared but singular conciousness. The shadows in the hedgerows, the ripples of what's underneath the idea of them, begin to pulsate. They flail. Or it flails, because he can't tell the collective from the distinct anymore, can only watch with awe as the patch of space and time it is currently occupying shimmers, and cracks, and grows, and reaches. Merton swears he can hear it SCREAMING in the back of his head. At the place where his thoughts dissolve into notions less definable by words, and transform instead into a swirling mass of impulses conducted by the now-shrill trans-dimensional, thrumming of the universe's insistent, staticky back beat.

He sees something solidifying in the ectoplasm of that open sore in the flesh of the world. Something besides the thrashing, churning, cult of tendrils reaching out from the places they can squeeze through in the cracks. The sight makes every single one of his hairs stand on end. Which is something, given he has a significant deal more of them now than he usually would. But there is no mistaking what he is seeing being melded together in the eye of that widening miasma. A hand claws its way past the meshing, roiling tentacles of that dark expanse. Pulling itself forward into the physical, out of the theoretical. A set of shoulders struggles past, dragging the other arm in to being along side it, pale and wan. There is a pause, one last still moment before, with repulsion thrumming through every part of him, he focuses on the well of dark magics still spewing forth parts of the creature. He sees the top of a head breech through the dimensional weak spot. The head turns in Merton's direction at his displeased hisses of fright. Merton locks up in immediate, gut-wrenching, horror when the creature gazes back at him, wearing his own face.

‐-----

I'll probably never continue this or even do anything at all w it,, but it was fun! In case you were wondering about the subtext between tommy and merton, yes. gay. Also whats dialague don't know her

#gothicwolf #halloween prompt #writing challenge #tommy dawkins #merton dingle

15 notes · View notes

yoongisbars · 5 years

Text

Samusil | myg | P R O L O G U E

summary: It was always known that you were the family disappointment. So naturally, you fled. With a looming school debt, alcoholic tendencies, and no luck whatsoever in keeping a job for more than a month, you were at your wits end until you finally cave into working at Bang-Lenzo. You’ve only ever heard horrors of the place and its manager. But maybe, just maybe, that office would become your safe haven.

pairing: myg x reader genre: strangers to lovers au | office!yoongi au | future angst? fluff? word count: 7.5k tw: alcohol as coping mechanism, subjects that might hit close to home note: inspired by The Office US, this is only a teaser, a taste, of a project im working on, i wont release anything besides this until its ready, so pls endure !! <3

Life was a bitch to everyone, and ever since you flunked out of Business School, it’s proven you weren’t the exception. It was an already supersaturated field with bright minded, innovative entrepreneurs. And you? Realized halfway through that the business world wasn’t cut out for you. With an overwhelmingly expensive college debt for an unfinished degree that your parents refused to pay for, you became the official family disappointment. After two years of being done with their bullshit, you finally packed your stuff and moved as far away as possible, hoping to start anew in the small town of rural Yangpiji.

Just because you had some level of education, didn’t mean it would get you quite far. It’s done the opposite, in fact. Jobs with higher wages frowned upon your incomplete studies, and jobs that didn’t give a fuck if you finished high school, didn’t pay enough to deal with their idiocies or take care of the bills for that matter. One heated argument with the owner of the last food joint you worked at was the final straw. Throwing your dirty apron at his face, you walked out of there without a single care in the world, and for the moment, you felt powerful. At least until you waltzed into Slack Jack’s and sat at the bar that night, head buried into your palms.

“Rough shift?” Your eyes peered from behind your fingers, focusing on a shot being placed in front of you. And boy, were you thankful for it. Without speaking, you threw that shit back and let it burn your throat, the only consolation for the situation you were in. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Jackson, I quit.” Feigned shock played on the bartender’s face as he cleaned a beer mug. You weren’t the only one who searched for new beginnings in Yangpiji. In front of you was Jackson Wang, owner and proprietor of Slack Jack’s. He had moved there from abroad no more than ten years ago in hopes to reinvent himself, and against all odds did. He had been your close friend for the past three years since moving. Quite frankly the only good thing this area had to offer was Jackson and his cheap drinks that get you hammered quick.

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought!” His hand shot up to cover his mouth, chuckling at your bland reaction. Rolling your eyes so far into your skull, a heavy sigh escaped from within.

“I’m serious. I quit. I quit work, I quit life, I quit Yangpiji- I’m tired… I hate that I’m a jobless 28-year-old drunk, with nothing to offer this world besides how to survive on garlic noodles and rum.” Your hands traveled the air around you as you searched for words, “I can’t even afford to make them Jjajang Noodles, Jack. JJAJANG!” A small shriek spewed out as you downed another shot, you stopped counting after the third one. Dread and sorrow pooled around you in a matter of seconds. You were at your wits end. And you couldn’t say you were past your peak, since frankly you never took off the ground to begin with. “I’m a failure, Jackson.”

Widened eyes traveled the room trying to find any words of consolation, but the bartender couldn’t find anything other than pity. His hands moved quickly, putting away the bottles before he was tempted to offer you anymore. He usually served you on the house because he knew of your struggles, but you also drank your weight in alcohol, and he didn’t want to go broke any time soon.

“Listen, chief. There’s still an option…” Oh no… You didn’t want to hear it; already knowing what was coming. “The Bang-Lenzo Yangpiji Branch is still hiring for a secretary; you should test it out.”

Ah, yes. Bang-Lenzo Inc. Somehow a successful company in the dying paper industry. One of the first to drop their deforestation contracts for their supplies and switch entirely to recycled paper. Since most companies didn’t believe in the Save The Trees movement, most of their major clients dropped them and signed contracts with Bang-Lenzo instead. Working for them would be an achievement… If only the branch in your city wasn’t a nut house.

“Jackson…” Elongating the last syllable, you groaned. “I’ve heard horror stories of people that have tried to work there, it’s chaos. No one ever lasts a full week…” The idea of even bothering to work there was dreadful. The workers there were a nightmare, so you’ve heard. But their manager? A complete lunatic. Unprofessional, immature, inappropriate, and other negative connotations have been used to describe the young manager, Jeon Jungkook. Rumor had it he was the top salesman for 4 years straight before the old manager died. When the company crunched the numbers and stats, he was technically the most qualified for the manager position and had managed to keep it for the past 5 years.

Amidst your internal struggle, Jackson raised an eyebrow and cut you straight. “It pays $15 an hour, plus benefits.” On instinct your hand shot up, doing quick maths in the air. Holy cow. You shifted your attention to Jackson so fast you almost snapped your neck.

“That’s almost $30k a year!”

“More than you’ll ever make busing tables, that’s for sure.” He had a point. And, you were desperate. Maybe not so much at first, but $15 is $15 and if it meant sacrificing your sanity for survival, well damn it, you were down for the count.

“Guess I’m speaking to Jeon…”

On Jackson’s commands and with a set of instructions, you left the bar early. ‘Prep for tomorrow, rest and sober up.’ Three things that you were never quite well doing at the very last minute. Bits and pieces of information were fed to you, in order to try and snatch the job at its core.

‘From what I’ve heard, he likes to go in on Saturday mornings to catch up on some work.’ All that meant was that you had to wake up early, and your suspected hangover did not like that. You did what any ‘sane’ person would do and popped in a pain killer and a nausea reliever, an old family remedy to wake up fresh and ready.

‘At the breakfast buffet two blocks over, I once saw him obliterate the cheddar biscuits… And I think he has a thing for sausages too.’ Really, it seemed like Jackson knew Jungkook too well, but honestly so did the town through word of mouth. That last bit of information is what made you scour the nearest convenience store for the necessary ingredients to make the piece of resistance, the key to securing your assets. With this bread you were going to get your bread.

---

Morning came quickly, as you had gone to bed late baking and sorting out your clothes for the day. Sporting one of your finer ensembles just to make a statement, you were ready to take life by the throat. A dark gray, tight pencil skirt above the knee, a light beige button up blouse with pearled buttons, and a blazer to match the skirt. You applied a fair amount of neutral colored makeup in order to rejuvenate your features to not look like you’ve been miserable for the past 10 years. You finished off the look by slipping on some classic, black Mary Jane’s.

For the first time since inheriting this 1999 Verna, you were glad the aircon was a hunk of junk and only blew hot steam. Of course you drove with the windows down to receive actual fresh air, but you angled the conductors towards the biscuits, keeping them toasty and warm as if freshly baked that morning. Jeon Jungkook would be in the palm of your hands and the job would soon be in your possession. Financial stability: here I come.

Parked outside of the building, you painted on a mask with all of the false confidence and determination you could muster, before any ounce of regret could slip in. Once the clock hit 8:55am, it was time to go. You grabbed the biscuits, which you had ever so ‘lovingly’ placed in a basket upping the charm factor, and headed for the entrance.

I need money. I need money. I need money. It was the mantra of your choosing as you took the unnervingly long elevator ride up to the Bang-Lenzo office where your unannounced meeting with Jeon Jungkook awaited. Yes, unannounced. Obviously to anyone with common sense of time, 9:00pm wasn't a viable hour to schedule a meeting for the next morning, so you decided to take the determined approach and show up like you already owned the place. For the first time you had a goal and were dead set on obtaining it. Nothing would stop you from getting that income. I need money.

‘Bang-Lenzo INC.’ read the door sign in front of you. For a moment you closed your eyes, fighting off the urge to walk back to your car and forget this place. But your mantra was quick to erase such thoughts. I desperately need money. Overpowered with feigned confidence, you strutted into the main office. Immediately you were faced with your soon to be desk. It was large and crescent shaped, spacious and tall. In a room to your right, you heard a muffled voice. Surely that was Jeon’s office. With a huff of air, you went to knock on his door.

“Huh? C-come in?” Faint and hurried clattering was heard from inside. With suspicion, you went for the door, revealing behind it the manager, and possible future boss: Jeon Jungkook. Sporting nothing but a set of gray sweats, disheveled hair, and a headset placed around his neck. “Did you need something?”

The scene in front of you made you lose focus for a split second. You had never seen him before, and by personality description you expected many things except him being viciously attractive. And also a gamer, noted by the Overwatch screen on his computer. The thought left you in a split second, you only had one goal and it did not include sleeping with the manager to reach it. You learned that only works once and it’s never rewarding.

“I’m here for the secretary position? I figured since it’s early and unannounced I’d bring in a little something to eat.” A sweet and charmful voice oozed from your throat, foreign to your body unless it was summoned. The confused manager’s doe eyes lit up once they set intensely on the basket making way to his desk. “I hope you enjoy warm biscuits.” Before he could even question what was going on, you were already sitting across from him, placing your intricate resume in front of his grubby self, you were ready to snatch this job from his hands. He had already fallen victim to the biscuits. You could see the revival in his eyes as soon as he took the first bite. Butter and cheese were the key, but it was the mini weenies hidden inside that sealed the deal.

Jungkook didn't bother to offer it much of a glance. Instead he redirected his attention to you. “Are you good with computers and organizing?” Bread crumbs and cheese lingered on the corner of his lips as he spoke, you could have sworn some spittle came in your direction as well. Upon further inspection, the food stains on his sweats may have started a whole community of bacteria. Any office fantasy of getting railed by a manager quickly died with this individual, and some word of mouth started to make sense.

“Yes. Anything document and spreadsheet related I can handle, not to mention emails, and of course scheduling agendas-“

“And you made these? From scratch?” He held a biscuit in awe, and you couldn’t help but feel success in your future.

“I did.” You offered a soft, shy smile. Another desperate attempt to charm him for the job.

“Do you think you can bring them in on Monday mornings? Starting this Monday? Tell you what, I’ll raise you to $16 an hour if you do.” You choked on your saliva, instantly entering a coughing fit. He really might be off his rocker, but in this economy, who cares? Not you, because for simply baking Sunday nights you get an extra $40 a week. With this bread, you get your bread.

“I certainly can! It would be my pleasure.” “Great! Then let’s sign the paperwork and make it official.” He rummaged through his files to retrieve the contract. “Gosh, I can’t wait to tell the other managers all about my new beautiful secretary who cares for me, and cooks for me, and, who knows; maybe even have a secret romance with me?” There it was, the inappropriateness everyone talked about. Jungkook didn’t give you time to come out of your confused state. “Ha! I’m kidding! It’s just a joke. We’re professional. Professional. We’ll of course report our relationship to HR.” A noise seemingly from The Grudge escaped you. There was an ungodly uncomfortable silence before he decided to kill the awkwardness of the situation.“KIDDING AGAIN!”

You didn’t question the lacking interview, or how Jungkook was quick to hire you. It was the most unethical thing in the world and yet? You didn’t care. You were one step closer to financial stability, and that was all you could ever ask for. With the contract filled out and already added to the payroll, you had officially signed your soul over to the white collar world. Serving as the official secretary of Jeon Jungkook. He truly was an oddball, and somewhat inappropriate, but he didn’t give any indication of being an asshole of a boss. Too friendly and annoying, but you had the gut feeling he might just be a decent enough boss. Or at least not so much of an idiot that you can tolerate working for. Besides, the money’s good.

Walking out of and looking back at the building, your eyes spotted his office windows, with him behind, cheerfully waving you off as he ate the remains of the biscuits. A subtle reminder, you needed to prep your baking game.

---

With a more dressed down version of what you wore to the impromptu interview, you drove your car over to the office building. Only this time, pulling up to the parking lot as you were now an employee. Jungkook’s car was already there. A sleek, black Equus. In comparison to its ancestor, your Verna, it exuded upper management presence. He clearly was a successful 27 year old, and you aspired to be able to reach as much coin as he probably had some day. Really, all you ever wanted in life was money. Were you willing to work much for it though? Probably not, but you didn’t have a choice. It was time to get in gear and make up for lost time. 10 years of your life, in fact.

You stopped thinking about past mistakes before you could let them affect your first day. Taking the biscuits and purse in a hurried manner, you rushed up to the office. Only an hour earlier than the rest, but you still had things to prove, if only to yourself.

Upon arrival, Jungkook was busy fiddling on your computer. Documents and folders were neatly spread out on a corner of your desk, waiting to be filed and sorted.

“Hey Y/N, You’re early! I hope you don’t mind, I’m setting up your company email so you can quickly get started.” His quick fingers stopped abruptly, for just a moment, his hand reaching for the biscuits. “And thank you for these, I didn’t think you’d actually make them.” He cocked his head in surprise and took a bite before finishing setting up your computer and programs. The comment left you with an odd feeling.

“Of course I would, I promised it.” Truthfully you only agreed because of the pay raise, but you would still hold up with it. No complaints. “Why did you up my pay grade if you didn’t think so?”

“I don’t know, incentive? I figured this would be an easier way to have someone stay for longer than a week at least.” Shaking his head for only a brief second, he continued. “But there’s something about you that tells me you’re going to be the perfect fit here. You have potential, Y/N. That’s why I hired you.” What the fuck was he talking about, ‘Potential’? You were a 28 year old deadbeat, a failure and a degenerate according to your relatives. You had anything but potential. Noting the hesitation to answer, Jungkook changed the subject swiftly.

“And it’s done. I’ll give you a quick rundown of things on the machine and then we can work with organizing my schedule, I am so out of sync with this company and I haven’t a clue when my next meetings are.” With a clap, he stood up and motioned you to the seat. He continued to peruse through the biscuit basket, searching for the ‘cheesiest ones’.

After a tour throughout the company programs and where supplies and files were around the office, the other workers started to arrive in a timely fashion. Some didn’t bother to give you the time of day, but others decided to greet you as soon as they walked in. Particularly a few of the guys from accounting and sales were quite enthusiastic to greet you. If you remembered correctly, the younger pair of them were from Accounting; Jimin and Taehyung, they were really nice, a bit shy as were you, but very polite and warm. You watched as they sat at their corner and bickered slightly, but it seemed to be in honest fun. The one from sales, Hoseok, was the opposite in terms of shyness. He welcomed you with the most charming of smiles and emphasized that if you ever needed a helping hand around the office to not hesitate to ask him. He cheerfully chatted your ear for a few minutes giving you a small idea of what a day in the office might be. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it, you just need to give us a chance.” You heard his hidden pleas. Many people came and went from this place and their tongues never ceased to express their distaste for it. Even most of your coworkers gave off an air of annoyance with the place. You couldn’t blame them, but basing your experience on first impressions only, it could be worse. Only time will reveal the shithole everyone else claims this place to be.

It was 20 minutes past 8:00am and the once empty office was now filled and working. Jungkook came out of his office ever so often, glancing over the the desks, ‘tsk tsk tsk’ is all he ever spoke before going back behind his door. You thought to ignore his manner and focus on organizing his schedule based on the emails he forwarded you. He had plenty of meetings, webinars and conference calls to attend, and they were all scattered around. On your shared calendar, you added the event reminder and description for each and every one for the next month, even going an extra step to add reminders on your own calendar the day before, just to make sure he’s up to date.

A new email displayed on the screen, an impromptu conference call for Jungkook in 10 minutes labeled ‘URGENT’. You were about to head to his office to notify him, but you remained seated as the entrance door swung abruptly, startling you just enough to make you forget your name and the company you now work for. All you saw was a coat being placed on the rack next to you with an exasperated sigh escaping the core of the individual. Right away, it was clear that if there was anyone in the entire building that hated having to wake up early in the morning just to show up to work in this unfortunate place more than you, it was him. Like the majority of the employees, he looked straight up miserable, even behind dark colored sunglasses. The freshly made venti Iced Americano, the slow paced walk to his desk and his disregard to show up on time were, in your opinion, strong indicators of his likely hatred for his job.

Settled in his desk, he removed his shades. His narrow, cat-like eyes drew you in like magnets, there was no telling whether or not his iciness was natural, or a ruse to limit his interactions with the rest of the staff. Yet somehow they were still fitting for his rounder, chubbier cheeks. His lips were already pursed downward, but they seemed to curl even further and remain that way almost permanently as Jungkook peered his head out. You tried calling out to him, but your voice was muted by his own exclaims.

“Yoongi!” He shouted, you could say enthusiastically, towards the late addition in the office. He released another sigh, this time accompanied by an eye roll.

“Not now, Jungkook.” His voice was deep and low. Eyes never abandoning his monitor as Jungkook approached him.

Whatever conversation they were having was nothing but whispers and subtle head shakes. Yoongi was it? Didn’t seem in the mood for whatever chatter the manager kept going on about. You noticed bow everyone in the office was trying to work, but not being able to steal sudden glances from the conversation. Judging by those, especially Hoseok’s since he was sitting right at the situation, you assume they all had an idea as to what was unfolding. You, however, could only assume was an odd scolding in Jungkook’s manner for him showing up late.

A ringing alert brought your focus back to your own desk, the incoming call you guessed was from Corporate due to the email. Jungkook had previously requested that you warn him first before answering any calls from them, and you remembered what you were ready to do before Yoongi walked in. Not wanting to bring in any attention to yourself you debated quickly which was the best option, calling him over or going straight to him, but you didn’t even answer yourself before your legs started moving on their own.

“Jungkook.” You tapped his shoulder gently, and spoke softly. The young manager startled a bit, and you were unsure if the other man’s expression was relief or annoyance, but you let it go quickly.

“Yes? Oh! That reminds me. Everyone!” What you wanted to avoid was exactly what he gathered: attention.

“This is Y/N, office secretary. I want you all to make her feel welcome, be kind.” He kept going on one of his badly timed speeches until no one paid him any mind.

“Jungkook, you have-”

“Would you both excuse yourselves and talk elsewhere?” The deep voice that spoke seemed to command more authority than Jungkook did.

“Sorry,Y/N. Yoongi’s a bit on edge due to his divorce trial.” The last phrase he tried to utter as a whisper by leaning close to your ear, and although he made it sound like such, it was still loud enough for people to hear.

“Do you really have to tell people about my personal life? Where does it end with you?”

“I felt like I needed to excuse your attitude, she’s part of our family now anyways, she can know.”

Their bickering picked up again, Jungkook defending the reasoning for his declarations and Yoongi countering with how he always oversteps fine lined boundaries and doesn't have any common sense. Although you very much agreed with what Yoongi was saying that it was an invasion of privacy, you were still caught in the middle of their crossfire and all you wanted to do was inform Jungkook about the god forsaken call.

“JUNGKOOK.” Your raised voice silenced their bickering, and the room came to an onlooking halt. Anxiety started creep behind you due to shouting over your manager on your first day, causing flashbacks of previous outcomes due to this similar situation to roll like a montage in your head, but your patience was running thin.

“What, what is it?” Jungkook, unphased by the situation, cocked his head at you in slight confusion.

“You have a call from Corporate.” You maintained your stern tone, but you were wavering internally. His demeanor took a turn, eyes so wide you feared they would pop out.

“Did you answer?” Whispers gave an undertone of fear. With the phone still ringing in the background, you shook your head.

“Good. Tell them I’m out with a major client. I’m not here.” He hurriedly walked you back to the phone. The glint in his eyes says you should worry, but you swallowed and answered with the same feigned confidence you used for the interview.

“Bang-Lenzo, this is Y/N.”

You successfully got rid of the Corporate call in the morning, but you were unsure how long that might last given the urgency they requested it with. And Jungkook’s behavior regarding any calls from Corporate today, or the rest of the week from what he stated, was worrisome. It was a concern you’d tuck to the back of your head, it wasn’t your business anyways.

As the day went on, you saw that life in the office was quite eventful, so to speak. After the ordeal of Yoongi’s divorce proceedings this morning, and Jungkook avoiding Corporate like the Black Plague, an array of unusual things for a normal day to day office routine continued to happen.

Mainly, Jungkook was entirely distracting. To you, the staff and mostly to himself. He would constantly try to make conversation with anyone, and the topics were always painfully awkward. Anytime he was actually in his office, more time was spent playing Overwatch with Taehyung than doing any kind of work. Not to mention he eventually ventured over to the conference room, with Jimin and Hoseok in toe, for their “twice a day dancercise routine” as their official 15 minute break away from their computers.

If you thought the nonsense would end there, you were soon to be corrected. It in fact continued in the numerous times Taehyung and Jimin came by your desk asking for copies. And not even official work copies- they were asking you to print out different versions of invitational flyers for their ‘seasonal crop party’. To your surprise, Taehyung had inherited the only strawberry farm in the region due to his grandparents passing, not like you had bothered to ask anyways. The only question you cared an answer for was if Jungkook had approved of using office supplies for this. It shouldn't have shocked you like it did that the man himself had designed the flyer and organized such an event, but still.

Lunchtime couldn’t arrive quicker. Some of the staff beelined with their meals over to the lunchroom area, while the others went out to eat. You half expected Jungkook to take advantage of the lunchroom crowd for his shenanigans, but he opted for eating in his office with Jimin and Taehyung instead. You could hear their incessant planning murmurs as you passed by to heat up your meal.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed once he caught your movement. “If the others give you the cold shoulder, feel free to join us here for lunch.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I planned on eating at my desk,” You chose your next words carefully, feeling the party planners’ gazes. “But I’ll keep it in mind in case I get too lonely, thank you!” The soft smile that spread across your smile was enough to comfort them from the small rejection. They went back to their discussions and you headed for the microwave.

Peaking your head into the lunchroom, it was filled with the younger, unwelcoming faces from earlier. It’s not like you planned on sitting down and chatting with them, you were there just to heat up your lunch, but upon entry you noticed how their conversations volumes lowered all the way down to whispers and snickers. You focused your attention on the whirring noises and beeps the microwave offered as a mere distraction. It was a curse you carried for as long as you could remember. Any giggle, whisper, snicker, or anything of the sort you heard in your perimeter, you felt was directed at you. As if they could see the list of failures and misfortunes displayed on your back.

You took your bowl and offered the room a nervous smile and nod before leaving, hoping it came across as a ‘sorry to bother, enjoy your lunch’. As you exited the room, Hoseok, tailed by Yoongi, was heading with his food over to the conference room.

“Y/N, come join us if you want.” Hoseok was beaming, if the sun was human it would be him. Contrary to the one walking past him, not bothering to stop. He could be truthfully considered the dark side of the moon. Although with his back to you, you could make out his unrelenting scowl reflecting in the conference room’s glass wall. “Ignore him, he’s still mad over this morning.”

“All things considered, I can’t blame him. But I think I’ll pass.” Hoseok hooked his free arm around yours before you could continue.

“Nonsense, you shouldn’t cast yourself out on the first day.” In truth, Hoseok’s friendly manner and joyous attitude couldn’t be denied. You felt his genuine interest in making sure your transition into the office was a smooth one. In the room, Yoongi was already gulpin down his food, not bothering to glance up until he spoke.

“Shut the door so I can tell you…” Words escaped him, replaced by a sigh as he spotted your presence, and Hoseok’s sudden realization of what this lunch reunion entailed. Surely, they were meant to discuss the divorce proceedings, but Hoseok forgot upon trying to welcome you.

“Right… Y/N, rain check? Alone on your first day though...” He sighed as he flushed with embarrassment and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” that was directed more at Yoongi if anything, a small assurance accompanied by the subtlest of nods. The rest was for Hoseok, as a dismissive joke to calm his worries. “I’ll probably join the Crop Festers and their shenanigans.” He cocked his head in confusion, a sharp ‘hm?’ caught in his throat. You brushed it off, leaving them with a wave. Wishing them a nice lunch and closing the door behind you, it was unknown to you that the Crop Festers had overheard, and were expecting you at Jungkook’s door excitedly.

“So you’re joining us then?” Taehyung assumed overjoyed, and Jimin couldn’t hide his giddiness. Jungkook was at the back at his desk, shaking his head in tune with soft chuckles before waving you in. It was clear that there was no way to have an unbothered lunch for the next 45 minutes, so… You joined.

Tae, as he now urged you to call him, and Jimin made space for you between them. Rice, meats, noodles, and an array of veggies were spread across the desk, now along with your own addition of food and in no time you were all eating and sharing your meals. Jungkook even offered up the few remaining biscuits, causing Tae and Jimin to fuss over why weren’t they brought out sooner and how good of a cook you were. Now they were expectant for next Monday morning for a pleasant cheesy boost.

Unknown to your conscious self, you were having a nice time. Further into the lunch, you became more involved with the Crop Party planning, and were even getting a bit excited for the day to arrive. A paid work day for a strawberry picking party? Who could say no to that? You weren’t ready to admit it just yet, with it being the first day and all, but… You were starting to like this place, even if you weren’t ready to acknowledge it. Once lunch was over, and everyone was making their way back to their desks, they eyed you with slight annoyance as you walked out of the office along with Tae and Jimin, still laughing at one of Jungkook’s impressions of some of the staff. Unaware, Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a suspicious glance. Who was to blame any of them? It was a first for them to see someone new being friendly, or accepting the office shenanigans as they transpired.

Afternoon was a milder version of what the morning turned out to be, everyone was calmer now, and as the hours passed you noticed they worked harder. Even Jungkook was filing reports and taking work calls, as long as they weren’t from Corporate. One of your last tasks was to send out some notice of change in policy emails to clients, it was the most time consuming, but it helped the remaining hours pass by in a flurry.

Bags started to be packed and coats began to be thrown on as the clock got nearer to 5:00pm. Everyone was ready to put an end to the odd Monday, and you could tell by their soft smiles and shy ‘See you tomorrow’s. Hoseok dropped by your desk with a “Lunch tomorrow, for sure!” before leaving and wishing you well. Yoongi followed behind him, not offering anything at all. More than likely still fussy over his personal issues being announced in the office. Jimin and Taehyung each went for a goodbye hug, as they were more than excited to have you aboard. Often they carpooled, you found out that they live together on the farm. After being friends for so long, they decided to run it together. Only you and Jungkook, who was still stuck in his office remained. With your things on hand, you peered through his window to give him a small wave which he returned, followed by pointing to the phone and making mocking expressions of talking too much. With a shake of your head, you went to clock out, putting an end to the first day on the job. You would call it a success, for it being your very first 8-5, and it deemed celebration. So once you hopped on your Verna, and peered out of the parking lot, your destination was clear: Slack Jack’s.

You had never once been there on a Monday, much less after 5:00pm. Late weekend nights were what you had grown accustomed to due to your old odd jobs here and there. But much to your surprise, the ambience at this hour was much more tranquil and up your alley than what you were used to. You hated crowds and loud groups of people, and there was none of that here. Eyes scanned the bar for your favorite and only owner, who upon noticing your arrival called you over to an empty stool up at the bar. Eager steps made their way over as he placed your favorite shot on the counter: a water moccasin. You paid no mind to the individual next to your stool as you sat down, eyes trained on the peachy, sweet and sour whiskey shot glass before you. Widened eyes stared, unknown to you, as you drank it in one big gulp, placing the now empty glass on the counter, snapping and pointing at Jackson with finger guns as you exclaimed “Hit me again”.

A smirk played on the corners of his mouth as he placed a second one just as you finished asking. Knowing your habits, he made two as soon as he saw you. “I’m guessing today went... ?” He was expecting you to tell him all about your day, as soon as you finished fighting off the burning feeling down your throat. It was always the second one that got you the most. Hissing for only a few seconds, you spoke.

“Honestly? Honestly honest? I can’t complain.” Alcohol was slowly starting to take effect on you as you rambled on. “At first I was kinda freaked out? Because everyone was kinda weird? OH! And then Jungkook decided to out a guy’s whole divorce or something?” In the background, next to you, someone cleared their throat as Jackson bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in a chuckle, but you went on. “I don’t know, it was weird. But like afterwards, it was pretty chill. Jungkook ain’t that bad. And lowkey? I can’t wait for the strawberry season, dude.” A snort escaped you as you thought back on the Crop Party. You couldn’t wait. Tae mentioned something about making fresh milkshakes, and right now you were wildin’ at the thought.

“So I’m guessing you’ve met Yoongi?” Jackson’s hand motioned you to look to your right. Lo and Behold, Mr. Divorcee was magically there, a citrus whiskey on the rocks in his hands. And that’s when it hits you, you have a loud mouth.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Eyes like a deer in headlights, pleading for forgiveness. Yoongi waved it off. You finally heard his voice without a hint of annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a long sip. Which reminded you.

“Jackson, may I please--”

“Have another?” He chuckled as he went to prepare a fresh shot. “Don’t get carried away tonight, though. You work tomorrow, remember?”

“Hey, I have self control. I won’t drink past 6:30, I swear.” To even prove such control, you didn’t rush to down the shot. Instead you tried to build a conversation with the man in charge of the drinks, but he cursed silently at a reminder.

“Fuck, excuse me for a sec. I have to call my parents.” You remembered him mentioning something about an upcoming anniversary as he rushed to the back, leaving you alone with Yoongi, a shot and your thoughts.

Allowing your mind to travel far for a moment, the waterfall of bitter memories with your family started to cloud your field of vision. Forgetting where you were and who was around, you brought your hands up to either cheek and gave yourself some quick, small smacks in an attempt to distract your tear ducts from doing their job. A groan escaped you as you reached for the shot in front of you, disappearing it in an instant. So much for self control.

The man next to you watched in awe. He already knew far more about you than whatever first impressions you thought you gave, courtesy of Jackson. But he was one to always doubt the extent of the things he said, and since forming odd suspicions of you at the office, he figured now was the time to see if anything added up.

“Escapism?” The sudden voice shocked you, and brought you back to reality. Another snort made its way out your nose, in an endearing manner.

“You can say that. No, you know what? Life is a bitch.” In your drunken manner, you broke. You vented, you ranted, and you rambled. You laid out your entire life in front of this man, this stranger, revealing more than what was necessary, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “And now here I am.” Fingers tapped the counter, antsy. Waiting for Jackson to come back and serve you yet another shot to calm down.

“I see, I’m sorry for all that. Things are looking up now, at least?” Yoongi shrugged, a winced expression since your story was still fresh in his mind. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I have some fucked up shit going on myself."

“Oh really? A divorce? Family exile beats loveless marriage any day, boy.” Another side effect of your alcoholism was straight up competitiveness. Even though it stung him, he couldn’t help but laugh. For him, it even felt like the first time in a while he had done so earnestly.

“My wife is pregnant.” Whiskey glass was brought back to his lips for a moment, barely touching them. “And it’s not mine.” He finished off the remainder of the glass, while you stared in silence, jaw dropped.

“Whoa, that sucks... How do you know though?” You brought your face closer to him, in curious intrigue, not knowing what personal space was; but he didn’t mind much as he inched in a bit closer to speak.

“I had a vasectomy.” A sighed escaped his core as he too revealed his life to a stranger. “Before we got married, we were clear that we didn’t want children. At least not for a long time, so I got the surgery done. If we ever wanted kids we would have a talk and take out time to decide how to go about it. But one day,” he shook his head, thoughts lost in the memory “she was very persistent that I go get the reversal done. Like, that I had to get it done that week. And I found that suspicious, so I pretended to get it.” His fingers now mimicked yours earlier, lightly tapping on the counter. “We waited the recovery time, had sex, and a few days later, she was pregnant. So I filed for divorce. Do I win now?” His usual serious pout curled into a smirk as you shook your head no.

“Nah, I still win. You can always get a new wife, I can never get new parents. I don’t make the rules, chief.”

The mood was starting to liven up, but the universe often threw curveballs in your direction. Text alerts distracted you from your office chatter with Yoongi, and again, you soured. It wasn’t often when you received messages from your cousin, but you never talked about the elephant in the room. This time, however.

‘Your dad’s been asking about you lately. Anything worth mentioning?’ You watched the words fade from the pop-up screen, and debated in silence. The shift was visible, and Yoongi caught it as it happened. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Instead of answering, you simply opened the chat and showed him the message. Grabbing your phone in his hands he stared.

“Do I answer? Do I just leave it for tomorrow? What could I even bother telling?” Complaints continued to spew out of your mouth, muting the light clicks of Yoongi’s rapid fingers working on the keyboard. You’re only brought back from your rambles when you feel him pressing your phone still in his hand, back into yours, a message already written out in the text box.

‘I just started at a new office job. Safe, secure. It’s working out.’ Short, simple and to the point. A quick nod was enough for him to press send. As he pulled away, leaving you with the chat which was instantly read, you expected to feel a bit better, but your worries and anxiety remained as your fingers drummed at a quickened pace, itching for yet another shot.

Right on cue, Jackson’s presence made its way to you. Catching your tells, his hands moved straight to the Schnapps.

“Actually, I think she might be better off with water instead.” You shot daggers at him, annoyed at such an assumption. “Same for me. You said you won’t drink past 6:30. I don’t make the rules, chief.” You couldn't grumble out much, because as much as you desperately wanted to be irresponsible and drown your sorrows in waves of alcohol, you had a new, very decent, job to uphold. And that required showing up sober.

The rest of the night went by pretty decently, ending with a new weird routine of going home early instead of waiting until Jackson finished closing off, to drag you all the way to his car. The nights you drove to your home from the bar were less than the ones he posted you up at his own apartment.

“You’re good to drive, right?” This time, it was Yoongi who was nice enough to walk you over to the beat up Verna at the end of the lot.

“Surprisingly enough, I am. Thanks.” Sticking the key into the lock, you jiggled it around. The only sure way to open the door these days. “What about you?”

“Considering I only had one glass of whiskey, I think I’m alright.” He motioned over to the Genesis next to you. “I’m gonna head out. Drive safe.”

You nod and make sure he's at least safe besides his car door before entering yours. Turning back briefly to look at you, your goodbye wave stops halfway as his words reach your ears.

“Lunch tomorrow.” Is all he says. he doesn't even bother waiting for a confirmation, he simply gets inside his car and drives away.

Starting up your car was always a hassle but you got it kicking in no time. As you pulled out of the lot, you spotted the Genesis still at the empty intersection. You flashed your headlights twice before heading the opposite direction, and from your rearview saw him continue on his way. Despite all the characters and particular personas inhabiting the living bodies of your coworkers, you couldn’t help but think: Yoongi's just might be the most intriguing to you after all.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #office!au

67 notes · View notes