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animeboye · 1 year ago

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Mid Dragon's World Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Expelled

As soon as we got home, me and Alex headed straight into my room. We set my PS5 up and put my new game in. As we sat down on my bed, we saw that Theian was standing by my door.

"Hey Theian! Wanna play with us?" I asked, patting a spot on my bed for Theian to sit.

"No, that's okay." Said Theian. "I need to get going."

"Alright. See ya tomorrow Theian!" I said.

Theian nodded and walked to the door. Alex and I stood up and watched at the window as Theian opened a portal and stepped into it. Once the portal had closed, me and Alex sat back down on my bed and grabbed our controllers. I pressed start and the game took us to the main menu. I scrolled down to V.S. Battle and pressed X which took us to the character select screen.

"Hey Alex." I said as I scrolled through the list of characters, trying to find one to play.

"Yeah?" Alex replied, also looking through the character list.

"Where do you think Theian and the others go for the night?" I asked.

"The dragon realm. Where else?" Alex said.

"No, I mean like where do they sleep? I mean if the dragon realm knows that they work for dad, they can't be very safe there."

"Hmm… Well…" Alex began. "Well…maybe they share a cave together."

"C'mon! Theian and Girido sleeping in the same cave together?" I laughed as I picked Superman to be my character.

"Eh, you never know. Don't really have a lot of options." Alex said, choosing Guile for his character.

"I guess not…"

For the rest of the night, me and Alex continued to play Street Fighter, going through just about every single character and stage. It wasn't until one thirty in the morning that we went to sleep.

The next day, it was back to school for me and Alex which meant no training for us today. Dad assigned Theian to work with Z'haer and the others in searching for a good place to start making his kingdom.

Alex and I sat at the table having breakfast. We both had a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal. I had Cocoa Puffs while Alex had Fruit Loops. As soon as we were done, we cleaned up, got our clothes, and headed out the door with dad behind us. We climbed into dad's car, Alex sitting in the front with him while I sat in the back.

Just like always, dad dropped me off at school first since mine was closer to our house. Alex and dad waved goodbye to me and I waved back as dad drove off in the direction of Alex's school.

Well, here I was again, back at school. I never liked going to this place. The teachers knew about what happened at my last schools and that I burned the students who tried to be my friends. Because of that, they said I was a "pyromaniac" and treated me differently than the other students. I didn't know how but somehow, some of the kids found out about what happened and would tell other kids about it and tell them to stay away from me. While most kids didn't come near me, there were some that would. These kids that would bully me, calling me names like "Fire Boy" and asking if I brought any matches with me and if I was going to burn down the school. I always tried my best to ignore them and make it look like they weren't getting to me but deep down, their words really made me feel terrible.

Just as I was walking to the front doors, I heard a voice call me. It was a voice I knew too well. I froze in fear, growing nervous, my heart beating faster. Two kids approached me, one standing to my left and the other to my right.

"Hi, Zack. Hey, Jacob." I said, hoping they would go away.

"So how was your birthday, Fire Boy?" Zack asked in a taunting voice.

I didn't say anything. I figured that if I didn't respond to them, they'd just leave me alone.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Zack shouted in my face.

I still didn't respond. I wasn't going to give these jerks what they wanted.

"You know, that's not very nice to ignore someone, Jake. And especially after we went out and got you a present yesterday." Jacob said, walking behind me.

"That's okay. You guys can keep it." I said, looking down as I walked past them.

"Nah! We really think you should HAVE IT!" Jacob exclaimed as he ran up behind me and knocked me down. I fell right on my face. I placed both arms by my sides and pushed myself up just as I saw Zack and Jacob run past me, laughing.

"Happy birthday loser!" Zack laughed as he ran into school with Jacob behind him.

I stood up and brushed myself off. I looked around, noticing everyone staring at me but no one trying to help me. I looked away. I felt like I was about to cry but I tried my best to keep myself from doing that. I didn't need to give these kids another reason to make fun of me.

As I walked into school, I noticed that my nose was bleeding a little. So I headed for the boys bathroom. When I got in there I took a paper towel and ran it under some cold water. I put it over my nose to try to stop the bleeding. I waited for a little bit before I removed the paper towel and looked at it, finding a dot of blood resting on top of the water that had soaked into the paper towel. I looked in the mirror. Some blood still stuck to my face so I ran more water on a dry part of the paper towel and washed the blood off. I put the paper towel on my face one more time and held it there for about five minutes. I looked in the mirror one more time, finding that there was no more blood on my face and that my nose wasn't bleeding as much. I threw the paper towel away and left the bathroom as I headed for my locker.

When I got to my locker, I saw that Jacob and Zack where standing by it, waiting for me. I sighed and just went to my classroom with my backpack. There were already some kids in the classroom when I got there. They didn't seem to notice me which I was happy about. I sat down in my seat and put my backpack by my leg. As I sat in my chair, waiting for class to start I thought about how badly I wanted to leave this place and get away from everyone, especially Zack and Jacob. They were in the fifth grade, same as me. They were also the bullies of the school. It wasn't just me they'd pick on. They picked on kids younger than them, they picked on the kids in the special ed. class. I wished I could teach them a lesson but dad had told me never to show my half-dragon form around anyone. I also didn't want to use my powers anymore in case they ended up hurting someone again but for them, I was ready to make an exception.

After awhile, the bell rang and the teacher walked into class, carrying a few books. He sat the books on the desk.

"Good morning class." Said the teacher.

"Good morning, Mr. Falkson." All the kids, except for me said.

I stared at the wall, thinking to myself. Mr. Falkson called my name a few times but I didn't hear him. He was finally able to get my attention when he walked up to my desk and tapped his finger on my shoulder three times.

"Uh, y-yes, Mr. Falkson?" I stuttered.

"Why how nice of you to join us today, Jake! And here I thought I was, talking to the air!"

The kids all giggled which annoyed me a bit.

"Now Jake, could you please tell me what that is by your foot?" Mr. Falkson asked, pointing to my bag.

"Uhh…my backpack?" I replied.

"Good. And uh, where is your backpack supposed to be?"

"My locker."

"Correct again! Now why is it not in your locker where it belongs?" He asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"Well…I…"

"Mr. Falkson, you shouldn't get mad at Jake." A girl said from across the room. "If you do, he'll burn the school down."

Some of the kids burst out laughing. Their laughter filled the classroom which could also be heard out in the hall. The other kids didn't join in, probably because they didn't want Mr. Falkson to yell at them.

"That's enough!" Mr. Falkson shouted. "Jake, you will go put your backpack in your locker, you will get your things for class, and you will come back to class. Is that clear?" Mr. Falkson said angrily.

"Yes…" I said quietly.

"Good. Now go." He said, pointing to the door.

I grabbed my bag and ran out the door as quick as I could. I walked to my locker and sat my bag down as I put in my locker combo "6-15-20". I opened my locker, opened my bag up and pulled out the stuff I needed for class, zipped the bag up again, and put it in my locker. When I shut my locker, I stood there for a moment before I looked down, placing my head on my locker's door. I squished my eyes shut and bit my lip, feeling again like I was going to cry. I remembered then that if I didn't get back to class soon, Mr. Falkson would come and yell at me and I didn't want that. I picked up my folder, my social studies book, and my pencils and ran back to class.

After three hours and three classes, it was time for lunch. As usual, I sat by myself at a table in the back. I had a milk, some mashed potatoes with gravy, and a piece of bread. That was another thing I hated about this place: The food. The food here sucked. We never had anything good to eat and it was always the same thing. Sometimes on Friday, we'd get cheeseburgers but even those tasted awful and I loved cheeseburgers. Unfortunately, this was all I'd get to eat for the next three hours so I had to take what I had. I quickly finished my food and headed outside. I ran behind the school and looked around, making sure there was no one in sight. When I saw that the cost was clear, I closed my eyes and turned into my real self, my half-dragon self. I flapped my wings and flew up to the roof of the school. I sat down by the vent and took a deep breath. I could hear the kids below me laughing and talking, playing games and playing on the playground equipment. The roof was the one place where I could get away from them for a little bit. It was nice being by myself, not having anyone make fun of me or hurt me.

I took another deep breath as a cool breeze splashed against my face. I played with my tail, holding it in my left hand and twirling its tip with my right finger as the wind ran through my wings and my hair. I closed my eyes and imagined myself as a full dragon, flying through the sky. I had no school, no kids to bully me, nothing. I was free. I was flying high over the city, looking down at all the people who to me looked like ants. Whenever I'd find bullies picking on other kids, I'd swoop down, beat up the bullies, and the kids I saved would thank me. Then I would fly off on another adventure after saving the day.

I smiled just thinking about it. I opened my eyes and stared up into the sky. I couldn't wait. Soon, this world was going to be dad's and that meant that nobody would ever be mean to me or Alex again. Dad would be the king of the world and me and Alex would be the princes with Theian and the others as our loyal servants. Alex and I would have all the friends we could ever want.

With that thought in my head, I laid down on the roof and closed my eyes again. I wrapped my wings around my body, using them like a blanket. I curled into a ball, my tail being the only part of me that didn't curl up. I yawned loudly as another breeze sprayed into my face. Then I fell asleep.

I woke up a little while later. As I started to move, my wings unfurled from around my body. I sat up and stretched as I yawned. I noticed that it was a lot cooler now and the sun was starting to set. I panicked. Did I sleep through my last few classes? I thought that I should probably get back into the school right away. I stood up, stretching one last time, and opened my wings. I jumped off the school roof and flapped my wings as I descended to the ground. Once I was back on the ground, I closed my eyes and my ears turned back into a human's ears, my wings went back inside my body along with my tail.

I ran into the school and went to my locker. I put in my combo and grabbed my backpack and slammed the door shut. I put my arms through the straps of my bag and headed out the door. Just as I was about to head for home, I heard something going on by the side of the school near the baseball fields. I wasn't sure what all the noise was about but it didn't sound good. I put my backpack on the ground as I closed my eyes and changed back into my half-dragon form. I picked up my backpack and flew up to the top of the school roof and ran towards the noise. I looked below me and saw Zack and Jacob picking on two kids. I laid down on my stomach, trying to stay out of their sight in case they looked up here, and tried to get a better look. The kids they were picking on were Sam and Max, two boys from Mrs. Marxi, the Special Ed teacher's class. Unlike most of the other kids, the kids in the special ed. class never bothered me but that was probably because Mrs. Marxi told them to stay away from me. They never talked to any of the other kids either. They would usually just hang around each other.

Sam and Max stood against the wall with Zack and Jacob standing in front of them. Zack moved closer to Max and put his hands on the wall, preventing Max from getting away. Sam just stood there, too scared to do anything.

I couldn't just sit here and watch Sam and Max get beat up. Whether they liked me or not I had to protect them. I stood up and grinned excitedly. I was about to be a hero, like Batman. I already had planned how I was going to save them: First, I'd shout at them to get their attention. Then I would drop down and tell them to leave Max and Sam alone. If they didn't listen, I'd tell them that if they don't get out of here, I'll make them sorry for trying to hurt them.

It was time. I stood up and looked down at them. Zack had his fist raised and he was about to hit Max. I took a deep breath.

"HEEEEEEEEYYYYY!!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

The four of them looked up and saw me standing on the roof. I jumped off the roof and dropped down, flapping my wings as I got closer to the ground, landing in between Sam and Max and Zack and Jacob, making Zack and Jacob step back a few feet.

"Oh, it's you, Fire Boy. Nice costume. What do you want?" Zack said, folding his arms and grinning evilly.

"Leave these two alone!" I said angrily.

"Oh? And what are YOU going to do if we don't, huh?" Jacob asked, also smiling.

"If you don't get out of here, I'll make you sorry for picking on them!" I replied in an even louder voice.

Zack and Jacob didn't say anything for a few seconds. They put their hands over their mouths, trying to keep themselves from laughing. Then suddenly, they started to laugh obnoxiously and loudly. Their laughing just made me even more angry.

"Oh no! I'm soooo scared! Please don't hurt me, Fire Boy! I'm sorry!" Zack said, mocking me.

I sighed. I tried to warn them. Now it was time for plan B: My powers. I hated the thought of having to use them. What if I ended up hurting not just Zack and Jacob but Sam and Max as well? I didn't want to hurt Jacob or Sam, just scare them into leaving.

I took a deep breath and squished my mouth shut. I held my arm out in front of me and when I exhaled, fire came erupting out of my mouth. Hovering above my hand was a small ball of fire. I brought my arm closer to me and stared at Jacob and Zack with an angry look on my face. The two of them were watching, eyes wide with fear at my fireball. I took a step towards them, causing them to take a step back.

"Wha-what ARE you?!!" Zack exclaimed, shaking in fear.

"Don't EVER let me catch you picking on these two again! You understand me?!" I yelled in a very angry voice.

"Y-yes!" Jacob said, shaking just as much as Zack was.

"Then GET OUT OF HERE!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

My yell was enough to send the two of them running. Once they were out of my sight, I chucked my fireball into the sky and watched as it flew high into the clouds until I couldn't see it anymore.

Once that was done I turned around and saw Sam and Max still standing by the school. They looked at me frightened. I guessed that they thought I'd try to do something to them. I walked closer to them as they watched me nervously.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." I said softly.

"Th-thank you." Said Max, still a little nervous.

Sam and Max were a bit younger than me. They were only in first or second grade. They were also the second and third youngest in the special ed. class, the youngest kid being a little kindergarten girl. Max and Sam were both best friends. Wherever one went, the other was with him. I think the reason they were such good friends was because, like me, they'd get picked on too, mostly by Zack and Jacob.

"He-hey, are-aren't you that-that fifth grader th-they call F-Fire Boy?" Sam asked.

"Yeah…" I answered, ashamed of that name.

"Mrs. Marxi said we should stay away from you because you like to burn things." Said Max.

"Oh…She did?" I said sadly.

"But we don't think that's true anymore! We think you're nice!" Max said, smiling.

"You do?" I said with surprise.

"Yeah! You stood up for us when Zack and Jacob were picking on us. You've gotta be nice to do something like that!" Said Max.

"Ye-yeah. You're li-like a super…superhero." Sam added.

"I am huh?" I said, thinking to myself. Well…That's because I am!!"

"Really?!" Sam and Max gasped at the same time.

"Yeah. To everyone else, I'm just a normal fifth grader. But…when there are kids being bullied, I become…Dragon Boy! With my Fire Breath, I protect all kids and punish bullies and all kinds of evildoers!"

Max and Sam started cheering and chanting my "superhero name". I flew up to the roof, grabbed my backpack, and flew back down to the two kids.

"But remember, you can't tell anyone who I really am. Okay?" I asked.

"Your secret's safe with us Dragon Boy!" Max said.

"And now I have to leave. There are other kids out there being bullied." I said, trying to sound heroic. "You two should try to get home as soon as possible."

"We will Dragon Boy!" Max said.

I waved goodbye to the two of them and flew home. On the way home, I couldn't stop smiling. What started as a bad day actually ended up being pretty good in the end. I stood up to Zack and Jacob and I protected two kids! I thought I might've actually made some friends.

I giggled as I flapped my wings faster. For once I was actually looking forward to school tomorrow. I imagined it: When I walked in tomorrow, everyone, even the teachers would be cheering for me and congratulating me for sticking up for Max and Sam. Everybody would want to be my friend and I'd probably get an award.

That night, I laid in bed, drawing a picture of me, Sam, and Max at the park. In the picture, I was wearing a superhero costume with the letters "DB" drawn in the middle. My wings took the place of a cape and my tail was in the back, wagging around.

Once I was done with the picture, I held it up and looked at it for a while. I stood up and put it on my dresser. I looked at it for a moment, then I turned off the lights and went to bed.

The next morning, I leapt out of bed. I cleaned up, had my breakfast, got my stuff ready, and headed out the door. When I got to school, already things seemed to be a little different. I didn't see Zack or Jacob waiting for me by the entrance to the school like usual. I thought it was kinda strange but I also thought it might just mean that this day is going to be great.

I walked to my locker and still no sign of either of them. I couldn't believe how good things were turning out today. I pulled out my book and my notebook for class and put my backpack in my locker. Just then the school bell rang. I grabbed my things and headed straight into Mr. Falkson's class.

"Good morning class." Mr. Falkson said coming into the classroom.

"Good morning, Mr. Falkson!" All the kids, including me said back.

"Umm, Jake, Principal Thompson wants to see you." Said Mr. Falkson.

"Ooooooh!!" The kids all said at the same time.

I wondered why the principal would want to see me. Did he hear about me protecting Sam and Max yesterday? Maybe he was going to reward me.

As I walked into the principal's office, I was surprised to find that my dad was there along with Zack, Jacob, Sam, and Max.

"Dad?!" I said confused as to why he was there.

"Ah, Jake." Said Principal Thompson. "Please, have a seat."

I took a seat next to my dad. I didn't know what was going on but the way the room felt made me certain that I wasn't called here for a reward or anything like that.

"Jake, I heard that you got into a fight with Zack and Jacob the other day. Also, Mr. Falkson tells me that you were not present for your last three classes yesterday." Principal Thompson said, sounding serious.

"Yeah but only because they were bullying Max and Sam. I was trying to protect them!!" I exclaimed, ignoring the part about me not being at my classes for the moment.

"'Protect??' Both Zack and Jacob told me that you took out a match and threatened to burn them alive."

I couldn't believe what I just heard. It wasn't like that at all! I didn't even know what to say to that. The only word that managed to come from my mouth was "What?"

Dad gasped. "Jake! Is this true?!" My dad said, sounding surprised.

"No sir, it's not! I didn't—"

"I received testimony from Sam, Max, Jacob, and Zack and they've all said the same thing!" Principal Thompson shouted.

"Wha-what! N-no we-we didn't! We-"

"That's enough!" Principal Thompson said, interrupting Sam.

"Mr. Jones, we here at Newton Elementary School have tried to provide a hospitable environment for your son despite his…past endeavors. However, with this recent turn of events, as well as your son skipping his classes it is clear to me that we cannot risk the safety of our students by allowing your son to continue to go here."

"Wait! Sir, you don't mean--" I panicked.

"But I do. Jake Jones, you are expelled from Newton Elementary!" Principal Thompson said.

"What! But sir, that's not—"

"Principal Thompson, at the very least, please allow my son to tell his side of the story." Said dad.

The whole room became quiet for a little bit. Then he finally spoke.

"Very well. Jake, let's hear your side of the story." The principal said.

I told Principal Thompson what happened. First I explained to him that the reason I wasn't at my last three classes was because I fell asleep during lunch, although I didn't say where. I then explained to him that I saw Zack and Jacob picking on Sam and Max and I tried to stop them. I told them to leave Sam and Max alone but they didn't listen. Then…when I got to the part where I went into my half-dragon form and used my fire to scare them, I paused.

"Then what?" Principal Thompson asked, leaning forward in his seat.

I didn't say anything.

"Well Jake?" Principal Thompson asked again.

I still didn't say anything.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" The Principal asked for a third time.

"I can't…" I said in a quiet voice.

"Why not?" The principal asked for a fourth time, pushing back his glasses that were sliding off his face.

"I just can't." I said quietly, looking down at my feet.

The Principal sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Jake…please go and empty your locker."

Principal Thompson didn't have anything else to say to me. And I didn't have anything else to say to him. I stood up and quietly left the room to go and grab everything out of my locker. I didn't get it. I thought I did something good. I protected two kids who couldn't protect themselves so why was I the one being expelled? Zack and Jacob should have been getting expelled, not me. It wasn't fair! What did I do wrong?

When I got to my locker, I just stood there with the door open for a few minutes before grabbing all my stuff. I stared inside my once now empty locker one final time before shutting the door.

I walked to the exit to find my dad standing there waiting for me. I sniffled a little and sighed. I walked over to my dad and we were just about to head out of the school when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and saw that it was Sam and Max.

"Jake, we didn't say that stuff Principal Thompson said we did!" Max said.

"I know." I said, smiling sadly at them.

"We-we're sorry, J-Jake." Said Sam.

"It's okay…See ya around guys." I said, sadly, turning away from them.

Me and dad left Newton Elementary. I took one look back and hoped to myself that Sam and Max would be okay without me. Dad continued to walk to the car so I ran to catch up with him.

"Dad, I'm sorry." I said. "I just wanted to do something good and I thought—"

Dad cut me off by putting his hand on top of my head. He looked down at me and smiled.

"What you did was good. You stood up for those who were weaker than you. However, there are those like the principal who see their way as being the only right way. They look at things entirely in black and white and enforce their ideas of right and wrong onto others yet…when it comes down to it…none of them would have raised a finger to help those kids or anyone else that needed it." Dad explained.

"But why? If you saw somebody that needed help, why wouldn't you try to help them?" I asked, not understanding at all.

"Because that's the kind of world we live in, Jakol. Just like the wolf that preys on defenseless sheep, the humans with more power will prey on those that don't and lie to and manipulate them. Once those weaker humans have served their purpose, the stronger ones will throw them away and seek and use others just like them."

"That's horrible!" I cried in disgust.

Dad nodded in agreement. "But I plan to change that. What I want is to make this into a world without lies, without manipulation. There will be no weak or strong. There will just be people. Everybody will be the same. However, in order to see this new world born, I need your help Jakol. Will you help me?"

"Yeah! You bet I will, dad!" I said eagerly.

"Good." Dad said, smiling at me.

Dad turned around and headed to the car as I followed behind him. I thought about what he said and it made me think: if we did make this world into dad's kingdom and made it so that everyone was the same, then would that mean that people like Sam, Max or, even Alex wouldn't have to suffer anymore? If dad wanted to save the world that much and stop people from suffering then I was more than willing to help him.

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makur0 · 2 years ago

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hii could i request a mao x fem reader where reader is getting behind on their work for school, and the concepts are all just too hard for her! :( so mao offers to tutor her to the best of his ability~ but soon enough, that tutoring session turns into a hopeless one as reader gets more and more lazy.. so then mao decides to let her sit on his cock while studying!! get the answer right, he lets her move a little bit for both of their pleasure. get the answer wrong, he makes her sit absolutely still. but who is he kidding, he can’t control himself and ends up making love to her anyway!

“I can’t help myself, you look so pretty…”

synopsis — he sees you struggling with your schoolwork, so he tries to help. of course, things don't go as intended and soon you're bent over... [mao isara x fem! reader]

content warnings — nsfw, mdni. semi-exhibitionism, penetration, cockwarming, edging, praise, sexual frusturation, breeding (mentioned), slightly obsessive behavior

author's note — I LOVE MAO I LOVE HIM HES MY KIN MY EVERYTHING GOD SEND ME A MAN LIKE HIM *says this while scrolling through mao cgs ahem*

word count — 1591

"[NAME]... YOU'RE FAILING."

You were in the Student Council office of Yumenosaki Academy after school hours, accompanied by the president himself, Mao Isara. His gaze stern yet sympathetic, he glanced at your careless figure slouched against the chair.

"[name]," He repeated, more firmly. "You have to change something soon, or you're going to be thrown out of the school."

...Even though that would be more of a fuss than having her fail nearly all of her classes. Not only would they lose a precious student in the Producer course, but he wouldn't have a chance...

"I don't have time to study, so therefore I don't pass," You shrugged, eye twitching. "And I don't have the patience nor the brain capacity for this shit-"

"Language. Please," Mao interjected, sighing. "Look, I know it's hard for somebody like you, but there are so many other students here in Yumenosaki and they persevere through it. You're a great student, I think you'll be able to succeed if you had your mind on it."

Crossing your arms, you broke off your eye contact with him, trying to hide your hurt gaze. He was right- you could have done so much better if you set yourself a goal, but with everything else going on in your life you didn't think you wanted to spare the energy for this... all you wanted to do was to just graduate and run off. What's so bad about that?

"How-" He cleared his throat. "How about I see your work? I think I may be able to help you."

Staring at him, brushing off his almost flustered look, you hummed and dragged your bag over, digging through it and bringing out your stuffed folder. Mao grimaced at the sheer number of packets, sheets, and overall papers that seem to be spilling out from every corner. Sliding it over to his side of the desk and opening it, he skimmed through the pile. Fortunately you did try to start most of the pages, but nearly all of them were unfinished.

"Here," He pulled out a blank worksheet. "Why don't you bring your chair over here and we can start on this one? This seems fairly easy."

"To you," You muttered under your breath, but you followed his directions and sat next to his Council chair, resting your arm on one of the rests.

Much to Mao's relief you didn't seem to argue about every little thing he listed off... but you didn't even try to answer them yourself. It got even worse when they barely made it through half of the first page, him having to constantly remind you to pay attention or reiterate several of his questions. It was like the more he got frustrated, the more you grew tired and lazy.

But he didn't want to give up on you. A part of his brain was almost... fantasizing. If he somehow solved your studying problem, would you like him? His heart jumped at the thought of you being thankful towards him, expressing your joy. Could this really be his chance?

He first had to just figure out how to make you focused on studying.

A loud whine shook him out of his thoughts. "It's not working, Isara," You complained. "Can I just leave? Please-"

"Ah, no!" He said, almost too quickly. You raised an eyebrow at his antics, and he brushed them off with a slightly embarrassed look. "I-I actually have a method of helping you..."

"If it's me getting dick then I'm up for it, but-" Faltering at your sudden joke, you stared at the red blossoming on Mao's face, almost matching his maroon hair. "Uh, Isara? I was joking..."

The President coughed into his fist, still extremely flustered. "I mean- if you think that would work we could definitely try..."

You stared at him. Did you really joke about sex that much that he took it seriously? You didn't even mention it once until now! What on earth...

The awkward tension arose and became almost suffocating until you finally opened your mouth. "I guess we could give it a go...? If you're alright with it, of course."

Mao swallowed, nodding quickly as he gestured to his lap. You stood up, but kept your eyes glued onto the desk, feeling your cheeks heating up as you heard him fuss with his belt and pants.

"You can sit down now..." He said quietly, and lifting your skirt up you lowered yourself on him, feeling his hands resting on your hips to guide you.

Suddenly glad that he couldn't see your expression, your eyes flew wide open and you bit your lip quickly.

He- oh god, how big is he?!

"A-alright then," Mao stuttered, looking over your shoulder and snaking his arms under yours to reach his desk. "Here, you get a question right and then you can- move. Get it wrong and sit still."

You already were struggling not to grind against him. Already a few seconds in and you were crying mentally. And the fact you couldn't see Mao's own expression...

Sighing, you tried to focus on the worksheet in front of you, your grip on the pen tightening. Thank the gods it was an easy question you couldn't mess up. Quickly scrawling out your answer, you tapped on Mao for him to check it, anxious energy radiating from the both of you.

"Yes," He breathed out, sounding relieved. "That's correct. Nice jobmm-" A stuttered groan left him as you immediately started to move, your head dipping as you pleased yourself. But as soon as you started Mao's hands grabbed your hips, slowing you down. "Start- on the next question now."

Looking through blurred eyes you glanced at the next question, and your throat parched.

Welp, this was it.

---

Your face was scrunched up in frustration and helplessness as you sat completely still on Mao's cock, your hands clenching and releasing as you used basically all of your willpower not to snap and just move. If you looked behind you, the President's eyes were half-lidded, biting his lip as he tried to push down his rising neediness. He really didn't expect it to be this bad when he tried this idea. Of course he was tempted to just accept your wrong answer, but he still had a shred of dignity left, and forced you to keep trying until you got the right answer.

How long were you in this? Thirty, forty minutes? You couldn't really think because your mind was in shambles. When you either had personal sessions or with somebody else (which was rare) you were quick to give you the pleasure you wanted, you needed. So to say the least, because you were basically being edged the only thing you could think about right now was how much you needed that orgasm.

"Here," You said shortly, almost slapping Mao as you showed him your paper, pleading that you were finally correct after so many failed tries.

Hazy green eyes looked at the paper, also wishing that the right answer was in front of him, but life was basically sucked out of him as his gaze fell on one, just one incorrect factor.

Fuck.

"It's wrong isn't it..." You whined, collapsing your torso on the desk and tossing your pen away. "I can't get it right! It's too hard!"

Panicked, Mao reached over to you to try to comfort you, but he had accidentally flipped your skirt over and revealed the scene under it. As soon as he saw it, he combusted.

Slick had started to pool out and decorate his pelvis, glinting brightly back at him. He saw your thighs twitching constantly, dotted with sweat.

That was his breaking point.

"Isara- ugh!" A shocked moan left you as you felt the male stand up behind you and suddenly thrust into you, causing you to grip the desk tightly. After all this time of staying still, you weren't the one to break, he was. He started fucking you erratically, small, whiny grunts leaving him. Soon enough noises of your own started to spill, but one of his hands went up to your mouth and shoved his fingers in there, muffling you.

"I'm sorry, sorry..." he mumbled against your back, his eyes scrunched up. "I can't help myself, you look so pretty..."

Due to the sensitivity before you came immediately, then was shoved harshly into overstimulation as Mao didn't seem to slow down at all. Your eyes fluttered close, drooling all over the male's fingers as your knees buckled, your only support now being the arm wrapped around your hips.

This was like a dream come true to him... well, sexualized of course. The way you tightened around him was almost like a verbal acceptance of his love to you. This was it, wasn't it? You were basically his now.

An unhinged moan left him as he orgasmed, green eyes dilating as he watched his seed fill you up and spill out, carelessly running down your shaking thighs.

You still laid over his desk, breathing heavily as he reached over and kissed you on the lips, smiling to himself as you immediately accepted it.

"How 'bout this..." He grabbed the worksheet and crumpled it into a ball, tossing it into his wastebasket. "A new game. The longer you stay quiet, the more we can keep going~ I’d be able to fill up you up, fill you up so well…”

"Fuckin' hell-" You sighed loudly. "Yes. Please, please—

"Atta girl... I knew I chose the right one.”

#enstars #ensemble stars #enstars smut #ensemble stars smut #mao isara #mao isara x reader #mao isara smut

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volturiwolf · 3 years ago

Text

Redemption - An Embry Call x vampire!fem!Reader Story - Part 1

A/N: I was thinking of uploading the start of this new book tomorrow or the day after, but I was so anxious that I thought I'd do it now. So, unannounced, there it is!

A/N 2: Because I don't know if I made it clear for everyone - and if you just saw it here, this is the continuation of 'Unorthodox'. Along the way, I planned to end the previous book on the cliffhanger, just for this new to start.

No of Words: 5500+

Mentions of: Overall sadness, Swear Language

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Tag List from “Unorthodox” (reply if you want to be tagged or removed): @iilsenewman @eunoia-kth @eugeniapet @aquanova99 @foreveror-never @marina-isabella @foggyturtleknightangel @avecletempsy @girlgirlgirlnormal @hshehdyhd @musicandpenguins @letskidnapsenpai @kpopgirlbtssvt @adaydreamaway08 @crazyweaslelover @diaphragmjellyfish @iw4milf @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @themoonandthewicked @ampal98 @robinthemossgoblin @queen-of-embracing-uncertainty @twilight-whoree @ghostofscarley @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @sparklevag @originalsoulcollector @huskyhunny @altera--pars @sunflowerleii

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(Y/N)’s POV

I was scrolling through an old magazine, clearly uninterested in its contents, but I had to occupy myself somehow. I was currently sitting at a cafe by the beach, under the warm afternoon sun. After just a month of leaving Forks, I had finally found some sort of peace and quiet. And though I was still hurt from the events of the previous month, I felt like a completely different person.

I had changed compared to how I was before. I felt way more apathetic to everything around me, as if nobody and nothing else mattered to me, which was true actually. I found myself in a new - well, new in the sense of how it was now - place, so I had nobody and nothing to care about. I had lost all connections with the life I had a month ago, so, naturally, I felt nothing at all.

I slowly sipped on my ‘Kitro’ drink, which the waiter proposed I should try out. It was a kind of liqueur with a citrusy taste; it smelled sweet, but it was supposed to be slightly bitter, which I did not mind anyway. The island had inspired me to be daring, so I actually tried out many different foods and drinks throughout my stay. Though food would usually make me nauseous and want to throw up, I pushed myself not to puke in front of humans, but pretend to actually enjoy eating and drinking.

Naxos was beautiful during the summer, and this attracted thousands of tourists, so I was considered lucky enough to have found a place to stay. The island combined elements from many different eras - from the ancient Greek times to the Venetians and Turks - with the modern elements. And yet, it was quieter than other places around Greece, and it gave me a sense of peace and freedom.

During this past month, I was just running; running away from my own self and my problems, instead of acknowledging the fact that what was done was done, that there was nothing I could do to fix things, and that I should instead focus on my own self and how to make it in this new reality.

So, I did just that: I focused on myself, and what was best for me. Though I had questioned my diet plenty of times since the day I left Forks and the US in general, I still could not bring myself to consume human blood. I was supposed to be a monster - at least that was what my mate thought of me, but, in the end, that just wasn’t me. I was a monster just because I was a bloodsucker, but I would not be the kind of monster that others of my kind were.

Living around humans was easy for me; the illusions helped me conceal my true identity from others, and that made it easy for me to adjust and live in every place possible. While others of my kind would live under heavy clouds, like the Cullens, or hide during the day and only go out at night, like the Volturi, I was walking around humans no matter the place, weather, or time of the day.

I was living in peace with them, and I wouldn’t wish to become somebody who could not control their thirst for human blood anyway. There were times when a tiny voice inside my head was telling me that it was okay if I wanted to try some blood; that it was in my nature to kill humans and taste their blood. I quickly silenced that tiny voice every single moment to avoid getting myself caught in weird situations with humans.

And though I said I had become apathetic, there was still a lot of pain left deep inside me; pain that I tried to mask, to hide. The pain of being alone, away from Embry; the pain that consumed me every time I was giving it the power to. So, I tried to occupy myself enough to forget about him. And, sometimes, it worked; other times, his image would burn up my mind, and then the memories would come back. More often than not, it was, mostly, memories of our fight.

But there were some good memories too. Memories of Embry and I in each other’s arms, or at the beach, or from the times we hanged out with the pack and the imprints. I missed Paul and Leah just as much as I missed Embry, though I missed Embry the most, out of every person I had ever met.

Embry was the one reason I had to live. I had always hoped to find my mate; to feel what the lucky few of us felt when they found their better halves. I was staying alive just hoping that I would find my mate once. And when I did, I may have been reserved at first, not because of Embry’s nature, but because of mine.

I was afraid that I would hurt him in some way; that our natures would inevitably clash, and that we would never be able to see eye to eye. But what we had seemed to be working at first, despite our clear differences. Though there was the obvious fear and worry for the unknown from both sides, we managed to work somehow. And we were good together.

Until I had to ruin everything by “trying to make Embry’s life better”. I actually thought I was helping him get rid of a huge weight off of him, but I was wrong. I shouldn’t have got myself involved in his family life. I shouldn’t have met up with his mother, let alone speak to her about Embry. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be in Embry’s life like that - I really didn’t know.

What I knew was that, despite what happened between us, I still missed him. I missed him so much. Every single day, I wished that I could turn back time and undo what I did, which I knew wasn’t possible, but I just wished I could. And I also hoped he missed me the same way I missed him.

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Embry’s POV

It’s been about a month since the last time I saw (Y/N). Everything was going great..for the others. For me, it was like living through a real-life nightmare. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t think about anything, but her. I was becoming more and more miserable by the day. The pain and guilt were eating my mind, reminding me that I was the only one responsible for my current situation.

I had forced my imprint to leave me. I told her all these vile things that I didn’t believe for her own character. She wasn’t the monster here - I was. I yelled at her; I accused her of so many different things that were not true; I pushed her away, and then I left her. She tried to reach out to me, to explain, and I just left her.

Even when I saw her in Paul’s mind, I didn’t back down. Even when my heart and mind were telling me to go after her, to stop her, to tell her how sorry I was, and how I didn’t mean anything that I told her, my ego was too inflated for me to admit that I was wrong. I didn’t know how or why - that wasn’t normally me, but it happened, and I wished I could take it back, but now I couldn’t.

(Y/N) left the town, the area, and I supposed the country as well, though I didn’t want to believe the last part. Nobody knew where she was, so I just assumed she went far, far away. I tried to reach out to the Cullens plenty of times, but each time, it was either Rosalie, Emmett, or Edward the ones who pushed me away. I supposed they were the angriest at me for driving (Y/N) to leave everything behind.

I sometimes walked by her house, which was still intact, hoping she came back. But every time I did, there was no sign of her anywhere. Even her smell had slowly faded away, and after a week or two, I just couldn’t bring myself to visit the house anymore.

During this time, I only walked by the front of the house. I couldn’t handle walking into the house, though the door was left wide open. There were too many beautiful memories around the house, from the first time I stayed there with (Y/N) and the whole pack, to the worst moment that ever happened: my argument with my imprint.

Though, admittedly, it was hardly an argument. An argument would insinuate that both parties were disagreeing with each other, while, in our case, it was entirely me, yelling and spitting words like venom to (Y/N), who looked hurt and broken. My ego did not let me breathe and look at things from a different, clear perspective.

The moment my mother told me she had a visit, showed me the business card and described her visitor, I was seeing red. She did explain why (Y/N) was visiting her, but I could not listen to her when she apologized to me for how suspicious she had been of me all this time. My mother had nothing to apologize for; I had to, but, at that moment, I could not handle how things were unfolding in front of me.

My anger was taking the best of me, and I had to get out of my house before I did anything to hurt my mother. I quickly texted a message to (Y/N), and threw my phone away, before running out of the house and into the woods, where I transformed, running towards (Y/N)’s house. My anger had completely overtaken me, and I was only driven by that.

That was why I was so offensive to (Y/N); why I couldn’t listen to her; why I didn’t let her explain. I regretted everything I told her the moment I said all these things but I knew I couldn’t take them back - I said what I said, and it wouldn’t make a difference to her if I apologized for what I told her at that moment of heat. I had hurt her badly, and I had been regretting it ever since.

I wasn’t myself anymore. Sam had banned me from patrolling ever since the first patrol after (Y/N)’s departure. I wouldn’t blame him. I couldn’t focus on patrolling; (Y/N) was all I had been thinking about, and that did not only affect my performance in the pack but the others’, as well.

Especially Paul’s and Leah’s, who had become (Y/N)’s best friends among everyone else. They were both blaming me for their best friend leaving, and they clearly couldn’t stand me around them. Sam was worried about me, so he banned me from patrolling until everything was back to normal, though it was more of a suggestion to stay away for a while, until I felt better.

Thing is I wouldn’t and I couldn’t get better. I could only get better if (Y/N) came back, but I didn’t think that would be possible anytime soon. I missed her so much, but I knew how badly I hurt her, so I couldn’t expect her to come back and forgive me. I was supposed to be her mate, and she was supposed to be my imprint, the one who I had always been destined to be with. And yet, the way I talked to her was as if I was talking to my worst enemy. I made her feel like garbage. I did not deserve her as my imprint - she was too good for me.

It took me a few days to realize that she was actually doing me a favor when she approached my mother, as our relationship had become a lot better now than it was a couple of months ago. (Y/N) managed to reassure her that I wasn’t getting myself in trouble, that I was becoming a responsible person, and that I was doing whatever I could to make sure we both had a good future ahead of us, without my mother having to worry about our finances. At least, that was how I saw it from the way my mother described it to me afterward.

But, it was too late now. I couldn’t do anything to fix things. I didn’t even know where (Y/N) was, and none of my packmates was willing to help me find her. Though they knew how much it affected and they wanted the best for both (Y/N) and myself, they told me I had to suffer just as much as she did. Because, as they told me, she must have suffered quite enough to force herself to leave.

I learned that, just like us, vampires also suffered away from their mate, so I could only imagine how (Y/N) was feeling right now. I could never forget myself for what I did to my imprint. It was all my fault, and I couldn’t even stand myself right now. I tried to get away, to leave Forks, but the pack stopped me before I managed to step a foot out of the reservation. Unwillingly, they accepted me back on their everyday duties, but Paul and Leah still kept their distance from me.

It was the middle of July, just a month away from Edward and Bella’s wedding which Jacob dreaded at first, but had finally accepted and even looked forward to, as he was promised to be the best man. There was still no sign of (Y/N), though I doubted she would ever come back. We were currently at Sam and Emily’s, eating in silence, unable to mutter a single word. That was how everything went by these past few days - the pack and imprints meeting up and eating in silence.

No words were exchanged, and the atmosphere felt heavy, but no one dared to walk away. Even though there were still a lot of things to talk about, no one dared to speak a word in fear of a fight breaking down. Everything was tense, and we barely looked at each other. We all quickly finished up our dinner, and the pack set down with their imprints, with the exception of Jacob, Seth, Brady, Collin, and me.

Even Quil had found his imprint recently - Emily’s 15-year-old niece, Claire. And though he was super happy and excited he did, he still felt guilty for having found his imprint, while I had lost mine. I assured him that I was the only one to blame for losing my imprint, and he just had to enjoy his time with his own imprint.

Now, I was the only one who was truly miserable around the pack. I lost the best thing that had happened in my life, while the other “mated” wolves were laying on their imprint’s arms, enjoying their mere presence and existence. I couldn’t look at all those happy couples, while I was drowning in my own induced misery. I excused myself, mumbling my goodbye to everyone, and ran out of the house.

Unconsciously, I found myself outside of (Y/N)’s house. I hadn’t been here for about 2 or 3 weeks now - time was just passing now without me caring what day, month, or even year it was. The once warm, welcoming, and imposing structure was now cold, dark, hostile, and somehow languishing, like (Y/N) took its liveliness with her.

For the first time since she left, I entered the house, looking around the place for any signs of her or of where she may have gone. I went up and down the house, but could not find a thing that may have shown where she could be. The only things I could find were big boxes and suitcases in the basement, along with some envelopes. They were addressed to the pack, so I did not think it was right to open them without them being present. I did the same for the envelope I found in the kitchen, which was addressed to the Cullens.

However, I tried looking around the house for anything that could be addressed to me. I only hoped she had something for me, as a last goodbye - anything of hers for me to keep forever. I found myself in front of a room I hadn’t really noticed before.

Opening the door, I was met with what seemed like a study room. The decoration was minimalistic, with a desk and two chairs in front of it and one behind it. On my left, there was a huge bookcase against the wall with so many books, more than I had ever seen in anyone’s house. The rug under my feet was a dark red color, something between blood and wine. The room “screamed” of importance and seriousness.

I took a few steps farther into the study room, taking everything around me in. I walked behind the desk. I had seen many films where they keep important files and documents in the drawers of such desks. Searching through the different drawers, I soon found what I was searching for: a big, yellow envelope that said ‘Embry Call’ on the front.

Opening the file, I was surprised to find documents I had never seen before, but I was already expecting that (Y/N) would have had a lot more documents throughout her life that I didn’t know about. There were two passports inside the file - one was under my name, and it stated that I was 5 years older than my actual age, while the other was under (Y/N)’s name, stating she was 20 years old.

What surprised me and warmed my heart was that (Y/N) used my last name in her new passport. I had thought plenty of times that I would love to get married to my imprint as soon as I was legal - even sooner if I could, but I never knew she thought the same. My hand was trembling as I continued searching through the other documents.

I found the marriage certificate and license of our supposed wedding, and it had Jasper and Esme signed as the witnesses. I passed my fingers over (Y/N)’s new full name, wishing she was here with me, and we could turn these documents into reality. I let a few warm tears fall down my face, feeling my already broken heart break into smaller pieces, as I kept repeating the last image I had of my imprint in my head.

I quickly wiped the tears away, before I proceeded to read the rest of the documents. There was a bankbook, and a lot of property titles, from this house to her cars to private yachts, clubs, and private islands - all of them had both (Y/N) and myself as the owners. I would have never thought about the extent of (Y/N)’s estate, until now that I actually saw all these. I thought the Cullens were rich, but (Y/N) was another level of rich.

Maybe it was egotistical of me to think about such things now that (Y/N) wasn’t here, but I couldn’t help but wonder the magnitude of her estate; how she managed to acquire all these, and, mainly, why buy so many things? I always thought vampires - that weren’t Cullens - did not care about acquiring stuff, but now it seemed that it wasn’t just the Cullens “hoarding” assets that they wouldn’t normally need - it was my imprint, as well.

Before I had time to process and go through all the documents in front of me, I heard growling and someone bursting through the front door. Without thinking about it, I threw all the documents back into the file and into the drawer I found them and walked quickly out of the office.

What I didn’t expect was to be faced by the angry Cullen leeches, though it was mostly Edward and Rosalie growling at me. The blondie was quick to launch forward and throw me away, as I crushed into the stairs. I would have shifted if it wasn’t for the doctor and his wife trying to calm everyone down.

“Can we all please calm down? Rose, please, apologize to Embry for what you did. You didn’t really mean it.” The doctor put himself between the blondie and me, stretching his arms between us, in case any of us dared to launch forward again.

“What I did? Why won’t he apologize for what he did? How he drove (Y/N) away?” Hearing her name out loud from someone else’s mouth after what seemed like such a long time, brought back the pain I had been feeling this past month, and I couldn’t help but fall on my knees, clutching my hair with the fists of my hands, remembering and regretting.

“Rosalie, please, stop.” Another male voice whispered - the one I recognized from our training session to belong to Jasper. I suddenly felt a wave of calmness wash through me, though I couldn’t forget about the pain in my heart so easily.

After that, the growls stopped and nobody said a thing for a few minutes, until I heard the familiar growls and shouts of my own packmates, as they ran through the front door.

“What did you do to him? Did you hurt him?” I heard Quil’s concerned voice, as he ran up to me, and took me into his arms, rubbing my back to comfort me.

“What is going on here, Carlisle? What happened?” Sam’s imposing voice was heard through the until-recently-quiet house.

“I’m really sorry, Sam, there was a misunderstanding from our side. I hope we are still good.” Carlisle’s voice was calming and almost a whisper compared to Sam’s, but it was reassuring nevertheless.

“We may be. I’m just looking out for my own people.” I lifted my head to find Sam looking at me with a mixed look; he seemed both concerned for me, and kind of fed up, if I were honest.

“Sam, I think there’s something you all need to know.” Esme’s voice was just as calming as Carlisle’s, and I could see how perfect they were for each other. She turned to look back at me, with a hint of sadness.

“What is it, Esme? Is there something wrong?” Sam looked at her for a brief moment, and then back to me.

“(Y/N) had made some arrangements before she left, and I think you should all know about them.” Her voice was cracking, but she tried to keep her steady.

With that, I quickly stood up from my position on the floor. “What do you mean ‘arrangements’? What did she do?” I was looking around the Cullens with worry and curiosity. They must have known something was going on.

Edward was the one to reply instead. “The boxes, the suitcases, and the files. You already found them, right?” I nodded in response. “These were (Y/N)’s arrangements. They all belong to you.” He turned to look around the pack.

Sam was now more confused than ever. “What boxes, and suitcases, and files?” He turned to look at me for answers. “What are they talking about, Embry?”

“(Y/N) felt like she had to give something back to you, for caring about her and accepting her into your family.” Esme explained calmly, before turning to her children. “Edward, Emmett, Jasper. Could you please bring everything upstairs? Alice, Rosalie. Can you help them?”

The five Cullen children disappeared in front of our eyes, just to come a few seconds later, leave again, and come back again, each time bringing more and more boxes and suitcases with them - the same boxes and suitcases I saw about an hour ago myself. Esme took a few boxes that said ‘Quil’ on them, and carefully pushed them towards my best friend’s side.

“These are yours, Quil.” She calmly said, smiling slightly, as Quil looked at her confused, before opening the boxes one by one, and screaming happily.

“I can’t believe it! This is brand new!” He turned to look back at Esme.

“Yeah, Jasper and Emmett picked it up. (Y/N) wanted you to have the very best, but she didn’t know exactly what you would like, so she sent these two to pick up the electronics. There are also these boxes…”, she picked up a few more boxes, “...for Brady and Collin if you could please pass them to the boys.” The pack nodded their heads.

“So, since we’re here. Jared, these boxes are for you. (Y/N) heard how much you like cooking, baking, and grilling, and she wanted to give you something useful and practical.”

“She remembered.” Jared whispered more to himself, as he realized that (Y/N) actually listened and cared about what he only once mentioned briefly.

“Alice?” Esme called her brunette daughter, who walked forward towards Jared, her hands full of shopping bags.

“These are a few things for Kim. There are more things, still in the living room, if you want to pick them all up.”

Jared was shocked, unable to close his mouth. “Thank.. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It was all (Y/N)’s idea.” The brunette turned to look at me, looking like she was insinuating something, probably the fact that (Y/N) cared a lot about all of us, and that I should be feeling more guilty than I already did.

The blondie stepped forward, gulping deeply, holding a thick file in her hands. “Jacob.” As in cue, Jacob stepped forward. “These are the papers for your mechanic shop. It is just half a mile away from the treaty line, so you can easily go there. There are also papers for your new motorcycles inside the file. We have already set them in the shop if you wonder.”

Jacob was even more shocked than Quil or Jared, unable to say a thing, so he just nodded his head at the blondie - Rosalie.

Jasper was the one to step forward next, holding both a suitcase and an envelope in his hands. “Leah, Seth. These are for you. It’s money to restore your house, and for whatever you may need.”

The two Clearwater siblings looked between each other confused as to what was happening before Leah stepped forward and took the suitcase and envelope out of Jasper’s hands.

Then Emmett stepped forward, as Jasper retreated back to his place. He held a suitcase just like Jasper’s in his hand. “This is for you, buddy.” He looked at Paul, smiling, and Paul smiled back at him before they “bro-fisted”. Emmett did not say anything else, and Paul didn’t have to ask - he probably knew already by now that the suitcase was filled with money.

“Sam.” Edward was the last one who speak, holding both a suitcase and a file in his hands, just like Jasper, and stepping forward. “This is for you and Emily. It’s to cover the expenses of the pack for however long, and to restore your house.”

“This is a lot, honestly. I’ve been seeing this exchange for a few minutes now, and I’m worried. We do not want to be pitied or feel that we took advantage of (Y/N). I told her that the cars were already enough.”

“And she knew that. She just wanted to return some of the kindness you showed her. She didn’t know what else to do. That’s her way of thanking you for everything you did for her.”

“Well, I don’t really know what to say. I wish she was here to thank her personally.” Sam mumbled sadly.

“We all wish she was.” Edward replied back; he was just as sad. “There’s one last thing.”

“What is it?” Sam seemed tired and saddened.

“(Y/N) arranged everything so that, in the future, Quil, Seth, and Rachel are able to attend the University of Washington to study whatever they wish to, expense-free. They will be accepted on full scholarships, and that includes their accommodation. And they will be close enough for you to visit.”

“What?” Seth, Leah, Quil, and Paul shouted.

“She knew Rachel, Quil, and Seth had potential, and she wanted to have the same opportunities as she did. She is a UoW alum, and her supposed grandma, as well as she, attended the university, so it was easier for her to convince the dean and board of trustees to accept them sometime in the future. That, along with a generous donation.”

“How much are we talking about?” Paul frowned his eyebrows.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I’m guessing in the range of millions.” Edward’s jaw clenched.

“That’s too much. Just, too much.” Leah’s eyes widened, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“From what we saw and were told, I think that’s how (Y/N) is like, so don’t be surprised.” Quil mumbled, looking at the floor.

“What about the envelopes?” I looked directly at Edward, whose jaw did not unclench.

“She has one envelope for each of you, and one for us.” He turned around to take the envelopes from Carlisle, before distributing them around. I got mine, as Edward looked at me straight in the eye. I could imagine what he was thinking about. He probably wished he could tear me apart right now for what I did to (Y/N).

“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t want to hurt (Y/N) any further than you already did.” His voice was monotone, emotionless, not caring about the effect his words had.

“Edward, please. We have to go now. Excuse us.” The doctor smiled slightly at us, and within a few seconds, all Cullens exited (Y/N)’s house.

“We’ll have to go now, too. Embry, you can stay if you want. We’ll go back to the rez.” Sam informed me before exiting the house, as well, while the rest of my packmates followed him, but not without looking back at me.

I was alone again, just like I was about 15 minutes ago. The silence around was deafening, and I let myself sit on the stairs with a loud thud. I decided to look at the letter (Y/N) left me. I tore up the envelope with trembling hands, not knowing what to expect. I wanted it to be something good, something that could indicate where she was, but I knew I did not deserve her sympathy or love at this point.

“My Embry,

Agapi mou, psichi mou, fos ton mation mou (my love, my soul, light of my eyes), I wish I could tell you how much I love you. Even right now, after everything that happened.

By the time you read this letter, I’ll be long gone, somewhere far away, somewhere that you cannot reach me. I think it’s best for us to forget each other. I wouldn’t want to hurt you any further than I already have, and I know you cannot leave the pack or your mother, so I knew I had to be the one to leave.

I wish I had more time with you. Even during these past few days, I felt things I had never felt before, and I wish you did too.

I know I’m not the imprint you wished you had, but you were just perfect for me. You mean the world to me, and I wish I didn’t fuck up the one chance I had in life with you. I only want the best for you, so I leave everything I have with you.

I want you to live the life you deserve. Nothing ever mattered to me until I had someone special to share them with.

You are that someone special. You were, you are, and you'll always be the one I loved with whatever soul I have.

I will probably never be able to move on, but I want you to move on if you find someone who loves you unconditionally and you love them back.

I left my whole, hollow, dead heart with you, and I'll never be able to take that back. I don't want you to feel like it was ever your fault. Besides, I am the older one, I should have known better than to test or upset you.

I hope you understand my decision, and I hope you give yourself another chance in life and love because you deserve to be happy, even if it's not with me.

I love you so much, and I wish nothing but the best for you. Take care of yourself and your mom. You're both too precious.

Until we meet again -

Love,

(Y/N) C.

P.s. Please, try to get along with the Cullens. Let everyone know that I am okay with everything if that's what it takes to convince them.”

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jojolightningfingers · 2 years ago

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fic rec list

Because I’ve never done one of these, and I would really like to shout-out some stories that reduce me to a pile of ash every time I so much as think about them. So here, my 10 favorite fics in no particular order:

ideny’s Dirty Sympathy (Ace Attorney; klapollo)

“I do not know that I believe in fate. But I believe in helplessness, and that is almost the same.”

Coming as absolutely no fucking shock to anybody who’s known me or followed this blog for the past two years or so. The premise: Klavier and Apollo are in abusive relationships with Daryan and Kristoph respectively, meet by chance, and frame each other’s tormentors for murder. What follows is AA4, told with this undercurrent, culminating in a third act that had me in my best friend’s dms wailing incomprehensibly. This fic runs the full spectrum of human emotion. This fic redefined fic for me. Some day in the future I’m going to sit down and dissect this fic’s narrative structure just so I can maybe attain half the power and cohesion of it. Every single one of ideny’s characters is so powerfully written--not just the main players, but the side cast. The characters that appear for like, one scene and are never seen again. So much thought and care is put into each line and it really, really shows.

The revised first 74 chapters are on Ao3 here; the LiveJournal thread with the full original version is here. The revision leaves off at the end of 149c/some (you’ll have to scroll down really far to see it). If you’re making the jump you’ll know you’ve gotten the right starting point if the post opens with ‘The sounds his feet make on the dark wooden stairs in the front hall [...]’.

hatsuna’s I wish to live in a world (Haikyuu!!; sakuatsu)

Guarantees were foolish things, so hope was all Motoya had to brave the world, and the wings of that were too frail to build futures upon.

The sakuatsu, if you can believe it, is not the important part of this fic. The lens the sakuatsu is viewed through is. This fic is a fabulous example of a study on a relationship viewed from the outside: in this case, Komori’s efforts to reconcile the cousin he knows with the cousin who has somehow entered a relationship with someone like Atsumu--undeniably the same person, and somehow not at all. The way this story makes me feel is very difficult to put into words, mainly because I haven’t seen a fic that handles all the strange, uncomfortable, pieces-missing emotions surrounding how you see people and how other people see the same person, intertwined with the wistfulness involved in growing up, as well as this one does. It’s soft and squidgy and somehow presents itself such that the reader can see the contradictions in how Komori sees the world, but Komori himself cannot. There isn’t much that’s more human than that.

@glassedplanets’ quema (Bleach; grimmichi)

So he opens his mouth, not to devour but to welcome, and marks this down in some immutable corner of his being: first of many, first of many, first of many.

Where lies the line between want and obligation? What happens when the borders between the three worlds come down? This list would of course not be complete without me pointing furiously at this fic and making completely incoherent noises. Nailing the neverending nature of something in writing is really, really hard to do and this delivers in spades (hah). There is a simplicity to the way Grimmjow and Ichigo view and navigate each other that is paradoxically complex and alien and fascinating to witness. Highly recommended for those of you that like exploring relationships that are very much atypical in their love languages (what is yearning but another form of hunger, after all?) and also have a soft spot for incredibly well-written fight sequences and prose that hits like a hammer. And also Reishi Theory.

@kanthia‘s Life Goes On (Dragon Ball; vegebul and hanvi)

She likes it on Mount Paozu, where gods visit for tea and dinner, and love is the quiet between words.

Fine I’m cheating a little bit with this one since it’s a collection and not one fic, but self-imposed limitations say I can only use an author once, otherwise this list would have maybe three people on it.

Dragon Ball is a series full of patent ridiculousness, we all know this about it, but it is also a series full of these very grounded, soft moments that shine all the more because of the ridiculousness surrounding them. That they’ve got a quality of ambiguity makes them magnetic: We see and know as fact that Vegeta and Bulma eventually marry and have children, but we know next to nothing about the specifics involved in how they got there, even though the trajectory throughout the canon is believable. Kanthia’s specialty is in weaving together plausible extrapolation with what few things canon does give us to pull the mundane parts of Dragon Ball to the fore, and they do it heartbreakingly well. Of this collection, The Gods Themselves is probably my favorite, but all of them get me deep in my feelings one way or another.

Quiddity’s A Fair Exchange (Fire Emblem: Three Houses; ferdibert)

Goddess, Hubert thinks, he looks like he belongs there, and it infuriates him that he is so drawn to something so intent against heeding him.

Who doesn’t love a good merman/human romance? I know I do. Quid’s punchy, playful style gives the tale of Hubert struggling to cling to his dignity in the face of the siren song of an exceptionally bratty and beautiful mer!Ferdinand (merdinand, if you will) a delightfully colorful tone. Join them as they work out what they feel for each other--as well as the intentions of a suspicious character that’s turned up in the capital.

@transversely’s the butterfly stance (Attack on Titan; annie/eren)

She could have lived aeons without knowing what she knows now: that someone can have the disposition that she does, can face what she faces, and still choose what she couldn’t.

Though this piece was written quite a while before Attack on Titan got really in depth on Annie’s story, I find that it still holds up as a melancholy look into her head--particularly where it concerns her connection with Eren, and through Eren with herself and her mission. As much as I hate to leave this recommendation hanging vague, it does by its nature contain a lot of really pertinent spoilers, so I advise holding off on this one until you’ve gotten through the canon covered through the end of the first anime season (I don’t off the top of my head remember what that translates to in manga chapters). Trust me, it’s worth the restraint.

@queenieofaces’ linear time is fake; you can only trust your fists (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure; jotaro character study)

Jotaro just persists. There’s nothing laudable about outliving everyone around him.

If you’re in the market for a dealing-(badly)-with-trauma narrative that does unsettling things with the concept of time, here’s your story. I’m a personal fan of exploring the inner workings of ‘stoic’ characters, especially when those inner workings are a total, possibly-spirit-possessed disaster, and this one’s fantastic.

@isozyme’s we are the reckless (Homestuck; vriska/aradia space au)

“What the fuck is your deal?” she asked. “I’m Vriska fucking Serket, traitor to the New Crown, the one and only Two Faced Bitch, the Scourge, and I am old as balls and I have killed shit twice your size, and I am ordering you to get us into space without exploding our sorry meatsacks in the process, because I am the boss of you!”

The helmsman’s pupils were narrow slits and she was breathing hard, but her gaze tracked Vriska across the small room. She was beautiful and dangerous, like a pit viper or a lieutenant with a soft heart. Vriska had put down a lot of beautiful and dangerous things. “I’m Aradia,” the helmsman said. “And I don’t care.”

Sometimes a fic is a fragment of a much larger story that will never be told in its entirety, but in truth the fragment is all you need. Vriska is a fugitive from justice. Aradia is the helmsman of the ship she steals to flee on. Their flight is dogged by misfortune and ghosts from both of their pasts, which somehow is soil fertile enough for trust--however tentative--to germinate. This story draws you in (if you’re like me) with curiosity about the setting, and keeps you along for the ride with beautiful turns of phrase. And at the end you’ll wonder: what comes next? Ultimately, that’s for you to daydream about.

@thornescratch’s How to Succeed in Sexual Blackmail Without Really Trying (Final Fantasy VII; reno/cloud)

“My life,” Cloud said slowly, “is sometimes indescribably strange.”

Rufus looked at him and there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “Oh, Strife, you have no idea.”

And then, sometimes a fic is one of those ones you reread whenever you need a laugh. Thorne excels at tart, deadpan anecdotal humor and describing the totally-insane-when-you-step-back-and-think-about-it mess that is Cloud Strife and the people he knows. One of whom is Reno, whose knowledge of what blackmail actually is is debatable, who is freakishly persistent, and who is--to the detriment of the possibility of a headacheless existence--utterly irreverent and inappropriate. And somehow, it’s charming. Who knew.

AlienYak’s I’m a fucking genius, and I can’t stop contradicting myself (Eyeshield 21; agon/hiruma)

The expression on Hiruma’s face when he turns away is the defeated one Agon had once wanted to see, once coveted and ruined three lives to get near. And now that it’s right there in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do with it, except to walk away.

Agon mourns for his genius and sanity whilst trying to solve the problem of Hiruma. That is: Hiruma’s presence, his draw, and why the fresh hell he feels the way he feels about him. Because he’s an asshole, he has a lot of trouble with it. Because Hiruma’s also an asshole, he doesn’t make it easy on either of them. Sometimes the relationship is just not very healthy and sometimes that’s why it’s fascinating.

So concludes my list! I highly recommend checking out other works from all the authors listed here, every one of them have multiple incredibly good stories to tell and it would be a shame to only let one or two of them see the light of day. Hope I did an adequate job selling all these!

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

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Part Six. Movies and Speedruns

warnings: swearing, many memes word count: 3.8k (not including pictures) (wow okay ash pop off!)

behind the screen (irl!dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: LETS ALL JUST AGREE TO NOT LOOK AT THE DATES ON TWEETS AND STUFF BC SOME CHAPTERS ARE SO SCUFFED WITH DATES!!!! JUST KNOW THIS STORY STARTS MID NOVEMBER!!!!!!!! (in a world where covid doesn’t exist btw)

**********

Unknowingly and unintentionally, Y/n let out a big sigh as she poured a glass of water.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Naomi asked gently, coming up behind her and hugging her tightly.

"Peter."

Naomi hummed, a sign that she was waiting for Y/n to lead the conversation so she could follow because if it were up to Naomi, she would immediately start trash-talking Peter and she wasn't sure if that was the vibe right now or not.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief as she jumped up to sit on the counter. "He got so mad when he found out I slept over at Karl's."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I wish you would just cut him off completely."

"I don't know. I know I should but... part of me wonders if he could ever go back to how he was when I met him. I would probably date that guy again but not who he turned out to be."

Naomi looked horrified. "No. You sound like you're considering hearing him out. No, is that a joke? He's a bad person."

"I'm not," Y/n reassured. "I'm just thinking hypothetically. Probably because I miss having someone..."

"Y/n, you have a ton of thirsty people in your mentions. If you really want someone that bad, just scroll through, land on one and I bet they're a million times better than that sack of burned potatoes."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled lightly. "Most of those are jokes."

"Not all of them," she teased.

"I know you're going to tell me anyway so just say it. Who specifically do you think isn't joking?"

"Dream," Naomi sang.

"Okay, crazy." Y/n reached over, staying seated on the counter as she grabbed a bowl from a cabinet on her left. She then leaned all the way right, reaching as far as she could, but couldn't quite grab a cereal box from the top of the refrigerator.

Naomi rolled her eyes as she helped, handing Y/n the box. She even went the extra step to get Y/n a spoon and the milk because she was that nice. "I'm not joking. Neither is he. Karl and I have talked about it and we both agree."

Y/n paused at her friend's words, her hand hovering over the milk that Naomi held out for her. "You guys gossip about my love life?"

Naomi set the milk next to Y/n, tired of holding it out for her. "Of course? Like we don't do that about Karl? Or you and him about me?"

She couldn't argue there.

"Karl says there's a different vibe from Dream when you join calls and I believe it. I mean, I've seen it during streams myself so I can only imagine how much more obviously in love with you he is during private calls.

"That 'vibe' is Karl's delusional mind creating things. He's too scared to talk to cameragirl so he's projecting onto Dream and I."

"Yeah, okay," Naomi agreed sarcastically.

Y/n huffed. "Besides, he's in Florida. I'm in North Carolina, in case you weren't aware."

"So you're saying if you lived in the same state, you'd date him?"

"I didn't say that." She honestly had never thought of it. Sure she liked hanging out with Dream and her stomach got butterflies when he talked directly to her and he made her smile harder than anyone ever had and he—

And she didn't like him like that. She had only officially met the guy like a week and a half ago and she didn't know what he looked like. There was no way you could catch feelings for someone without seeing them.

Naomi's expression fell again. "Distance doesn't matter, anyway."

"I swear if you say something about George I will slap you," she threatened through a smile and Naomi gave her an innocent grin back.

"If you're lonely, get on Tinder, not Peter. Or get on Dream. I have no qualms with that."

"Peter isn't even an option, Naomi." Y/n sighed, ignoring the comment about Dream. "Also," she swallowed the last of her cereal and set the bowl down with a clank. "I'm gonna tell Peter I don't want to be friends anymore. Dream and George can be added to the list of Peter haters."

"You talked to them about it?"

She nodded. "You know how I have little gossip sessions with George? Well, Dream was there too this time."

"Well, of course Dream would hate Peter. We've established that he likes you."

"No, no, you and Karl delusionally hypothesized that."

Naomi tapped the counter methodically, a sign Y/n knew to signal that she was thinking hard. "Somehow, one day, I'll prove he does."

"Good luck."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yes," Y/n perked up. "Go pick something, I'll get blankets."

She went to her room, grabbing her favorite cuddling blankets. She started leaving her room when she heard a ding on her open desktop, signaling that she had a call incoming from Discord. Cool timing.

"I'll be just a second, Naomi!" she called across the house before dropping the blankets on her bed and sliding her headset on, answering the call from Dream. "Hi, Dream!" She sat on her chair and tucked her knees to her chest.

"Hi," he greeted sweetly. "How are you doing today?"

"Much better than when we last talked. How are you?"

"Great now that I'm talking to you," he said smoothly. Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Are you busy?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My roommate and I are about to watch a movie."

"Ooh, what movie?"

"Not sure yet. Any suggestions?"

"Dark Knight. Unless you wanted me to say, like, Tangled or something."

"Yeah, girls' night is exclusively princess movies. Do you know nothing?"

"Apparently," he said with a laugh.

"What's up?"

"Oh, well, I was just gonna see if you wanted to be on call later with me, George, and Sapnap while I stream speedruns, but you're hanging out with your roommate so nevermind."

"Oh," Y/n deflated. "That sounds fun."

"I can push it back if you want to be part of it. If not, that's fine. I just thought it would be cool."

"No, no, no I really do want to, but I don't want you to have to push it back. When were you planning on starting?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll just join later if you're still playing. If that's okay that I come late."

"No. You have to be on time or not at all," he joked. "Of course that's fine," he assured. "And if I'm not playing anymore, you can still join... we usually talk for forever after we play games and it's fun. I would, er, we would love for you to hang out with us."

Y/n couldn't help the large smile on her face from staying even after they hung up and she walked back into the living room with her pile of blankets. She couldn't help it even when Naomi pointed it out and asked why she was so happy.

"Oh, uh, I've been invited to join Dream and them later for a stream."

"That vague answer doesn't warrant the shit-eating grin you have."

Y/n shrugged and cuddled more into her blankets. "What movie did you pick?"

*****

As the end credits rolled across the screen, Y/n yawned and looked over to Naomi in the dark. She was out like a light. Y/n stood up and made sure Naomi was covered in the blanket and she had a pillow. She crept back to her room and slid her headphones on, pulling up Discord where she saw the three boys' names still in a voice call.

She pulled up Twitch on her second monitor and looked for Dream's stream. It was already about an hour in. She clicked on it and her headphones echoed with the sound of George and Sapnap laughing like they said the funniest thing in the world.

"Shut up," Dream muttered. "Guys, what were the coords for the portal? Seriously, come on."

"Nobody tell him," George joked.

"George!"

"Where's Bugsyyyy?" Sapnap whined. "I want her to make fun of you with us."

"Half the stuff we're making fun of him for is about his big fat crush on her so..."

"George!" Dream yelled again. "No, it's not!"

Y/n smiled as she heard that, knowing it was a joke but laughing at the way Dream laughed at the accusation. She knew it wasn't serious or else they wouldn't talk about it on stream. George and Sapnap teased a lot, but certainly, they wouldn't out someone's crush in front of a hundred thousand viewers live.

"Oh!" Sapnap spoke out loud as George laughed loudly, both reading the text at the same time. "Speaking of..."

Dream waited for either of the two boys to elaborate but neither of them offered one. "What happened?"

"Bugsy texted us," George said off-handedly, typing a response to her. "She's coming in a second."

"Oh."

"What do you mean 'oh'?" Sapnap laughed.

"You guys have a groupchat?"

"Aw, jealous?" George asked.

Y/n joined at that moment, the first sentence coming from her Discord instead of Twitch being from Sapnap saying, "Would it make you more jealous to know our group name is Bugsy's Boys?"

"No, Sapnap, that's the one with Karl," George corrected. "The one with just you, me, and her is Bugsy's Boyfriends."

"WhAT?"

"I still don't approve of that, by the way," Y/n commented.

"Bugsy!!" Sapnap giggled happily. "You're finally here!"

"BUGSY!" George cheered.

"Hi guys!" Y/n laughed at the enthusiasm she was greeted with. "Hi, Dream!"

There was a few seconds of silence before, "Dream!!" George yelled right before the death screen appeared on the Twitch tab still opened on Y/n's right screen. "You idiot, what are you doing?! Why did you throw that run??"

She covered her mouth with the hoodie collar and laughed. "Off to a great start, bud."

"NO!" Dream yelled, knocking something, or somethings, off his desk. "Noooo! I didn't throw it, George, I FELL! Oh, that was going to be such a good run."

"What happened? How did you miss that huge ravine?" George asked while laughing. "It was literally right in the open. You didn't even try to use your water bucket."

"I-I was... I was distracted."

"By what? The completely open field with nothing blocking your vision?" Sapnap criticized with a laugh as well.

Y/n giggled to herself before letting her eyes trail to his chat, which was filled with the same accusations and guesses.

user5: BUGSY!

user2: DISTRACTED BY BUGSYS VOICE

user4: imagine saying hi so cutely that you make a man fall into a ravine

user1: are they dumb? obviously bugsy saying hi made his brain short-circut

user6: guys stop it wasn't bc she said hi. it was the g i g g l e

user3: DISTRACTED BY BUGSY!!!!

user8: HI BUGSY

user10: how to kill a man: hire bugsy to giggle and say hi directly to him

Y/n immediately blushed and covered her face again. She really had a habit of hiding even when no one could see her.

"Oh my gosh," Dream groaned, leaving the world and starting a new one. "Oh. My. Gosh. That's so annoying. I was doing so good."

"Oh," Sapnap laughed. "I understand now."

"What? What did I miss?" George asked.

"Just read chat," Sapnap explained. "They have the answer. Dream, your chat is so smart. Thanks for solving the mystery, chat!"

"No, they aren't ri— that isn't true!" Dream defended. "Chat, shut up."

"You sure?" Y/n asked teasingly, watching as his character paused when she started talking. Was she really making him this flustered just by talking? Surely not. He was just playing into the joke. He continued playing without saying anything, which made George and Sapnap laugh more.

The subject eventually changed and the atmosphere quickly became more relaxed and chill. Tonight was not a feral night like George had texted in all caps.

"Hey George," Y/n started, biting on her hoodie string with a smile because she knew Naomi would hear this when she watched the VOD the next day. "My roommate says hello."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered, making her laugh. "Let it go."

"Wow, I guess that's one way to treat your fans..."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell her I say hello."

"Well, not if you don't mean it," Y/n teased.

"Yeah, George, you sound so unenthusiastic?" Sapnap asked.

"He's just flustered," Dream commented. "It's okay George, you can have feelings."

"Dream, you fell into a ravine because Bugsy said hi."

"Oh, come on! That's not—I just— I missed the jump! That's it!"

"I'm not flustered or unenthusiastic, I'm just tired, okay?" George explained, ignoring Dream, a yawn spilling out of him to prove it.

Y/n smiled. "Well, you could always let me give her your number if you really want..."

"No. If she had Discord you could give her that but not my phone number."

"Wait, really?" Y/n gasped. "Seriously?"

George laughed lightly. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"YES! Okay, a huge win for the girls. Well, a huge loss for the fangirls but a huge win for the girls of this apartment."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered and she could practically see him rubbing his face in embarrassment.

"I'll send you her hashtag when she makes one so you know who to add back."

"She's going to make an account just to talk to George?" Sapnap giggled.

"Yes, dude!" Y/n defended. "She at least wants to be his friend, let her shoot her shot!"

Dream ended the steam soon after, not being able to focus enough to beat the end on any of his runs. He had streamed for just under two hours so he seemed to be getting tired as well. George went to bed soon after and after 20 minutes of talking with Sapnap and Dream, Sapnap mysteriously disappeared.

Y/n was about to leave as well, not wanting Dream to feel obligated to stay on the call with her when he spoke up.

"Does Naomi actually like George?"

"Yeah, she does."

"Then I want him to accept her love."

Y/n laughed. "How is he with long-distance relationships?"

"Well, he and I do just fine..." Dream joked. "Oh, not what you meant. I don't know, you guys are the ones that talk about each other's love lives apparently."

"You're still bitter about that?"

"Yes!"

"Suck it up," she laughed. "Naomi would do probably anything to date him so I doubt distance is a problem for her."

"George's sleep schedule is completely messed up, so the time difference wouldn't matter too much. And when he comes to America they can meet in person."

"Wait, he's coming to America?" Y/n gasped happily. "When?"

"There's no set date, but yeah eventually. He'll probably just come to Florida but we've all talked about having a huge meetup with a lot of our friends."

"Oh... cool..."

"Bug? You know you'd be invited to that, right?"

"Oh, really?" she smiled.

"Of course. You're part of the group now."

"Sick," she muttered to herself, but he heard.

"Bug, you're one of my favorite people, do you know that?"

She blushed. "Really?"

"Really."

"You barely know me, Dream."

"Yeah, well, I know enough to know that I'm sorta attached to you."

"Attached to me? In what way?"

He suddenly sounded nervous as if his brain caught up with what his mouth was saying. "I don't know, nevermind."

"No, Dream, what do you mean?" her voice was soft and understanding and it made him feel safe.

"I just... I don't know. I care about you a lot. We met only, what, like a week or two ago, and I already worry about you a lot. Playing games doesn't feel the same anymore unless you're playing with us."

"To be fair, we have been tweeting at each other for much longer than a week or two."

"Yeah, that's true. But it's not the same as actually talking to you."

She smiled shyly. "I care about you a lot too, Clay." His name sounded strange as if it suddenly made everything much more serious. "Sorry, that just kinda slipped. I won't call you Clay if you don't want me to—"

"No, it's okay, it, uh, I like hearing you... say it. But, uh, you can call me whatever you want."

She smiled widely at the nervousness in his voice and the hard pounding of her heart. "I've heard from multiple people that you never stop talking about me."

He laughed timidly. "Maybe. Do you talk about me?"

"Ask Karl," she giggled. "My guess is yes." Her stomach felt tingly and her hands shook lightly. Why did she feel like this all of a sudden? It was late, she reasoned. That, or it was because Naomi had planted the seed of curiosity in her mind. Did Dream like her? No... right?

"I'm sorry if my chat was making you uncomfortable at the beginning when I died..."

"Don't worry, I wasn't uncomfortable."

"It was true, by the way," he paused, "what they were saying. Just... in case you were wondering."

Y/n couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which was growing painful at this point. "What, my voice makes your brain short-circut? That was one comment I saw."

Dream laughed. "More like your entire presence, but... yeah I guess so."

How is someone supposed to respond to something like that? The sweetness in his voice almost made her sick but in a good way.

And just like when he named her Minecraft flower something sweet knowing that no one would see it, why was he still playing up the joke when no one was around?

Not knowing what to say, she decided to let him in on a little secret. "If it matters, you're one of my favorite people too."

"It does."

There was a deathly moment of tense silence as if both of them were screaming to say something but neither did.

"Basically, if we do have a meet-up, I'll sue you if you don't come."

Y/n laughed. "My pockets are empty, sir, so... good luck."

He laughed and it was music to her ears.

"Are you not nervous to show everyone your face? Like, if or when we do all get together."

"Not really. Especially not if it's just to our friends. Are you?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I'm sure people have me painted in a specific way in their heads and I've seen fanart of me that is way different and way more attractive than I am. I just don't want to let anyone down by not living up to their expectations."

"Bug," Dream said softly, "you couldn't let anyone down."

"You don't know that."

"You can't disappoint real friends or real fans with the way you look."

"To be clear, Dream," she laughed nervously, afraid she would sound conceited, "I don't think I'm ugly. I like the way I look. I'm happy with me. But that doesn't mean I can't still let people down."

"Different than expected doesn't mean disappointing."

His words smacked her in the gut. He was right. Reality and imagination are very different. Neither has to be better or worse than the other. She could look the complete opposite of how someone expects but that doesn't mean they will be either disappointed OR pleased. And why does it matter anyway? If she likes how she looks, who cares what other people think?

"It's also scary to think of getting recognized in public," she admitted. "Being recognized from the start is one thing because it starts off slowly with only a few people knowing your face but if the first time people see your face is when you have millions of fans, the recognition would be overwhelming."

"That's true. I don't think I would mind that much, though."

"Of course not, you're you."

"What does that mean?"

"You like the spotlight."

"I guess. Not all the time."

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "Are you afraid of people knowing what you look like?"

"No. I want to do a face reveal soon but I don't know how I would do it. I want to do it at some kind of event or something but I don't know."

"I need to schedule around when you do it because you'll break the internet. Give us content creators a warning so we can prepare to not get viewers for a week."

Dream laughed. "Oh come on."

"Twitter would just be full of the same picture of you in every single tweet."

"It won't be that big of a deal."

"Something tells me your millions and millions of subs say otherwise."

"Whatever," he said. "As if you wouldn't break the internet too."

"Maybe for a day or two. But you'd break everything for weeks."

"Sure." There was a long pause before Dream softly said, "Karl's lucky."

"How so?"

He didn't speak for a moment, almost like he wasn't prepared for that question because he didn't mean to be heard. "I wish I could know you the way he does."

"You could. He and I knew each other in person first so it's different. You and I could get there eventually."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I trust you a scary amount for someone I met weeks ago."

"I didn't mean to sound like I'm trying to pressure you into showing me your face or telling me your name. I didn't mean like he gets to know what you look like and I don't. I meant, like, I wish we could hang out in person because I prefer that over talking in Discord."

"I get it, Clay. I feel the same way," Y/n said softly. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.

"Oh, gosh, it's already four."

Y/n's head snapped to look at her clock, which read 3:57am. "Already?" she whispered. "Dang."

As if acknowledging the time changed the atmosphere, it suddenly felt like 4am. Her back ached from her shifting in her chair so much over the last few hours, never being able to find a good position. The house was eerily quiet and all she heard was the low hum of the heater. The house felt stale, not used to its occupants being so alert and awake at that hour.

"I should probably go to bed..."

"Yeah, me too," Dream agreed. His voice sounded tired. "Thanks for joining us, it was really fun with you."

"Thanks for inviting me. Sorry I made you die. Hopefully you'll still let me back again."

"You're always invited to barge into my streams. Actually."

Y/n giggled again and mentally slapped herself for sounding like a little kid. "Well, you too. You can interrupt my streams anytime."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Goodnight, Clay."

"Goodnight, Bug."

**********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

**********

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @peteysgf @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade

#rpf #real person fic #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #clay x reader #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #social media au

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what-even-is-thiss · 3 years ago

Text

2nd COVID Birthday

I wrote this literally in the 30 minutes before midnight and edited it in like 5 minutes and I wanted to share it with someone and I can already see all of the problems that a literary journal would have with it so I hope someone on here likes it.

.......

In the last half hour before midnight on June 28, 2021 I sit by myself on my dad’s couch. I have long had a habit of watching myself become older. The clock strikes midnight, and in the eyes of the law I am now an older man. Not a wiser man, because in reality only a second has past, even if that second almost always feels like it lasts an eternity.

Still despite this uselessness, I watch the clock turn over. Feeling a weight that doesn’t exist. An artificial bookend to another chapter that I’ve constructed in my mind.

I remember watching myself turn seven, perhaps the first time I did this. Waiting patiently on the living room couch long after my parents and baby brother had gone to bed, looking at what was, to me, an impossibly insurmountable and exciting mountain of presents forming a shapeless blob in the dark, knowing as I moved from one numeral to the next that I was so close to knowing what it held.

Now I sit on my dad’s couch waiting. Half an hour too early. As a joke to myself and nobody else I put on my headphones and scroll through my phone to the bottom of my list of songs.

Still stuck in my liminal space of waiting for my number to tick over I reach the number section of songs at the bottom.

22. Taylor Swift. Classic. Touch. Start. Pop. Happy. Dread.

I drop my phone. I’m not sure when. The song isn’t over. I’m not 23 yet. My phone isn’t damaged. I let the song end against my better judgement and only then after Ms. Swift has finished do I rip the headphones off and start breathing again.

“It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters and make fun of our exes”

I have no exes. I hold my headphones. I breathe. I have to write. Now.

There’s a lot of things that young adults are expected to experience and it seems as though most of us are under the impression that we are doing it wrong and all of the other young adults are doing it correctly. Finish whatever school is needed or wanted, fall in love, go to parties, get married, get a job, settle down and become a new and improved version of your parents.

Teenagers on the internet tell me that I’m old. I feel like I’ve just crawled out of a cave and seen the sun for the first time. Have I had sex yet? Do I want to have sex? Do I want to fall in love? What do I want to do with my life?

I was going to answer all of those questions when I was 22. Stupid plan in retrospect, but all plans made in the last year and a half seem stupid in retrospect.

A friend of mine is engaged. Her future husband is moving from Colorado to California. She has a real job now. I bang my head against the wall trying not to compare my life to hers but somehow during all the unpleasantness she managed to get her life started and even with everything I’ve accomplished I still feel like I’m nothing.

The unpleasantness. The thing that is going on right now. You know… that. We all know. The whole (speaker waves their hands around vaguely) plague that upset the fabric of society and took over all of our lives and has inevitably shaken up everyone that has survived it even if they themselves were not directly impacted. The phenomenon that lasted for the entire time that I was 22. You know. That thing. That thing we are tired of saying out loud.

I watched myself turn 22 in the midst of the pandemic thinking that by the time I turned 23 that I would already be out in the world. So many of those moments that I watched myself turn older are crystalized in my mind, but not that one. Not turning 22. It’s as vague and confusing and one note as the past year spent here inside on my dad’s couch.

The moments in which I turned 20 and 21 are perfectly preserved in my mind. My anxieties, my fears, my final thoughts and hopes in the second before the digital clock wordlessly ticked over. The second I turned 22 though? Is lost to history. To time. Faded into the background noise of the apocalypse that never came.

I don’t know who I’ve become. I don’t know who any of us have become. Societal and personal identity has been swirling and changing in the past year and now it’s all been tossed up in the air and I don’t know what will come crashing down or what it will look like but it’s coming. Whatever impact comes the next decade will feel it tenfold.

Five minutes remain. It’s 11:55 pm. I am only going to turn 23 once. I am going to spend it crystalizing this societal feeling in time. The feeling that we don’t know what the hell we are doing. This is not a year worthy of nostalgia. This is not a year worthy of romanticizing. This was hell.

How different was it to be 22 nine years ago when that song came out? I have never been to a club. I have never gotten so drunk that I’ve thrown up. I’ve never made out with a stranger and I’ve never fallen in love and the thing is that I’m not sure if I want to do any of those things but this was the year that I was going to try.

It’s 11:59 pm.

I’m still typing. There’s still racism and people dying of COVID-19. I said it. The thing we’re all tired of hearing. The disease. The thing. The YouTube demonetization word.

It’s 12:00 am.

I’m no wiser now than I was when I started typing this. I watched the clock turn over. Happy birthday to me.

#roman wrote a thing #roman said a thing #covid #writing #writeblr #creative nonfiction

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foreverindreamlandd · 3 years ago

Note

Bucky wanted to read her fanfictions and she always declined. So he begged and begged and begged... until she finally gives up and let him read one. 'Cause who could really say no to Bucky making puppy eyes?!

Let me know what you think about it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 1.5k (I am apparently incapable of writing a drabble)

A/N: Thank you again for another awesome request! I was basically cackling the whole time I wrote it. Want to read about how Bucky and this reader got together? Check out their origin story in my To Be Wanted series! Only warning in this one is the usual swearin’ like a sailor.

----

“See, this is why I always order Thai food. I can never do it justice.” You frown over your wok, mixing the noodles around with a wooden spoon hoping it will somehow make your creation taste better.

“I’m sure it tastes great, doll.” Bucky walks up next to you and grabs a noodle, tilting his head back as he drops it into his mouth.

His eye twitches almost imperceptibly and you groan.

“It’s good,” he coughs out, trying with all of his strength to regain his composure. “I think you just went a little too hard on the chili paste. I can feel my sinuses clearing up though, which is good, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Can you check the recipe on Pinterest again? I swear I put in the right amount.”

Bucky walks over and picks up your iPad. Right as he’s scrolling to find out if you should have used 2 tablespoons or 2 teaspoons of chili paste, a notification banner pops up and he accidently taps it, opening up your Tumblr app.

Omg! This fic is amazing! The way Bucky is there to support the reader. My heart completely melted! Your Bucky stories are amazing, Y/n! <3

Above the comment is a photo of him. It’s a shot from the news where he’s helping a civilian stand up after one of the attacks made by The Red Hand.

“Uh….love? What’s this?” He holds the iPad up to you and you shift your gaze over to him.

You drop the wooden spoon into the wok as all of the blood drains from your face. You’re frozen in place for a millisecond before you pounce on Bucky to grab the device from him. He’s never seen you move so quickly and it catches him off guard.

“Bucky give me the iPad right now,” you fling your arms toward it and he pulls it away, both amused and a bit concerned by your reaction.

“Wait, what is this? Is it something I should be worried about?”

You see a flicker of panic flash in his eyes and you stop flailing. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I mean, I should be concerned because if you read that I’m probably going to combust and you’re going to dump me and run for the hills.” He furrows his brows in confusion and you slowly lift up your hand. “Can I please have that back before I have a mild panic attack?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your emotions. All he can see is panic and sadness and it breaks his heart so he instantly gives in and hands you the iPad.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I trust you.” He leans forward to give you a chaste kiss.

You let out a pained groan against his lips and Bucky is once again confused.

“Ughhhh I hate hiding things from you.” You lock your iPad so the screen goes dark. “Okay, fine, I guess this conversation is happening. Remember when we first started dating and I, uh, mentioned I used to read and write stories about….us being a couple?”

Bucky nods, trying not to reveal any emotion to you that might make you spiral into a panic, and you continue.

“Well, that was one of those stories I wrote. I stopped looking on Tumblr basically as soon as I met you because it got all weird and meta and I got super uncomfy by the idea of reading fanfics - that’s what they’re called - about my new friend/now boyfriend Bucky Barnes. And then we started dating and I was all happy and shit and I totally forgot that those fics were still out there. Obviously I haven’t written any since then because that would be weird for...many, many reasons. Someone must have found an old one and commented on it. I’ll delete it. I’ll delete all of them. I swear. I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should have been more on top of this.”

Bucky stares at you, lips pursed and you grimace, afraid of the next words that are about to come out of his mouth.

This is so weird, Y/n. How could you do this?

No wonder you didn’t date anyone before me.

Obsessed much? (Okay, he probably wouldn’t say it like that but STILL).

No, what Bucky said next was much, much worse than what you could have imagined.

“Can I read one?”

Your mouth drops. Closes. Drops again. You blink rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. What?”

Bucky points to your iPad, a sly grin forming on his face. “I want to read one of your stories.”

You take a step back from him, horror stricken as you pull the iPad closer to you as if you were protecting your collector’s edition of ‘Throne of Glass.’

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky steps forward and you step back. He chuckles. “Come onnn, doll. I want to know what your fantasies were about me before we got together.” He laughs harder as the look of horror on your face grows more manic.

“Bucky, I know you’re a super soldier and could probably punch me into the sun with your metal arm, but I promise I will fight to the death before I let you read one of these fics.”

You and Bucky continue this dance of him stepping forward and you stepping back until you feel your legs make contact with your couch and you fall back into a sitting position on its arm. Bucky uses this opportunity to tower over you, his arms resting on the couch so that you’re pinned between them.

Then, he pulls out the big guns.

His gaze softens, blue eyes shining into yours. His bottom lip puffs out and he gives you the most adorable, sexiest pout you’ve seen in your whole life.

“Please, love?” He says it with a slightly higher pitch, almost like a whine and it still sounds like honey to your ears. He even nudges your nose with his like a freaking sociopath.

Damn.

You close your eyes, let out a breath, then open them back up to him. “I hate you.”

His pout turns into a boyish grin and he gives you a quick kiss. “You love me.”

You groan. “Hopefully you still love me after this, Buck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You stand and open up your iPad, scrolling through your masterlist and finding what used to be one of your favorite fluff pieces. You begrudgingly hand it to Bucky and he sits on the couch.

Unable to sit still during this agonizing experience, you proceed to pace around your apartment like a crazy person and resort to cleaning the inside of your microwave which you haven’t done in a few months so it’s a good thing that Bucky is reading your fic so that you could get that out of the way. You probably won’t have a boyfriend in a few minutes but at least your microwave will be spotless.

You only steal a few glances at Bucky as he reads, mortified each time as you see his eyebrows move in every possible direction. Up, down, knit together, were they criss-crossed at one point?

Finally, after what feels like the longest ten minutes of your life, Bucky lets out a soft grunt, placing the iPad down on his lap. He looks up to you and you give him a weak smile.

“Alright, let me have it, Buck. Give me your worst. Be honest. Also, I love you.”

Bucky glances down at the iPad and then back at you.

“Well, I have a few questions.”

Your right eye twitches. “Hm?”

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still think my eyes are an all-consuming storm of blue?” You groan. He grins. “Or do you think my jawline was cut from marble created by the gods?”

This time, you breathe out a laugh and you walk over to sit on his lap. You take hold of his chin.

“Bucky, I don’t think I could ever come up with the right words to describe you. The real thing is quite literally a million times better than anything I’ve ever written.”

His eyebrows raise. “That is...probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my whole damn life.” He leans forward and kisses you, and you sigh into the feeling of his mouth on yours, relief flooding through you.

You pull away, eyes skeptical. “So, you’re not thinking about how you can escape and never see my crazy ass again?”

“On the contrary, love, I’m thinking about how I can convince you to buy this gorgeous green dress you apparently wore as my wedding date. The one that showed off your cleavage in a way that made Bucky’s brain melt.”

The two of you burst out laughing and you lightly shove his chest. “Sure thing, Bucko. How about I work on the dress situation and you work on ordering us Thai food so that we don’t lose our taste buds from whatever the hell I just made.”

-----

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)

Taglist: @ceo-of-daichi @biiskuitx @forgetthisbull @eclipses-and-moondust @abcdefxkyou @jackiehollanderr @billionsofbeans @abitgryffindorky @lovelylostminds @mija-just-breathe @semlohkratz @bratty-longbottom-replies @carrotfantasimp @cremedelabrulee @ant1r3al1ty @th-e-mg@laura-moehrchen @emma-the-duck17 @sunnyjane4 @rosaline-black @parodsal000 @vicmc624 @abrunettefangirlnerd @officiallykuute @edityourwishingwell @mymindslabyrinth

***This was the original tag list for the To Be Wanted series. If you would like to be removed from the taglist for any other stories related to this series, feel free to DM me! And let me know if you would like to be *added* to the taglist for any other future stories featuring these two knuckleheads. :)

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #to be wanted #james bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #plus size!reader #plus size #fanfic #fanfiction #sebastian stan #inbox

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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yeahimwiththeband · 2 years ago

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-> with the band chapter 5

tell the truth (part 1)

warning: minors DNI due to a little bit of smut in this chapter and a lot in others. in this one: people pleasing behavior, anxiety disorder, codependency.

A/N: this is a story about a girl with anxiety disorder learning to thrive. it’s the fifth part of my first story post on tumblr, first attempt writing a book of any kind.

thank you so much for reading. i love any feedback or input. this is a love on tour au, harry styles au, slow burn romance.

word count: 4.61k

New York City didn’t know it was September. It was so hot that the tarmac felt soft under Izzy’s shoes.

She left the plane with only what she came to the concert in: her fanny pack with her phone (no charger), a chapstick (now empty), and bandaid wrappers (used up). Airport workers milled around her, grabbing bags, as Harry and the band spilled out of the plane like colorful ribbon onto the asphalt. He had changed into a cream suit with pink slacks. Lydia ambled off the plane, as relaxed as if she were getting into a pool.

Harry opened his guitar case on the ground, inspecting it for damage, running his hand along its body. Izzy didn’t know where to stand or what to do. She hadn’t been on a plane since she was a kid, and now she was in some weird, private part of the airport in a city she had never seen before. With people who had done this hundreds of times.

“Lydia,” Izzy said. Lydia finished typing on her phone, then looked up.

“Mmm??”

“I don’t have a toothbrush,” Izzy complained. “I’m in a city where I’ve never been and I don’t have a toothbrush.”

“You’re in a city where you’ve never been and you don’t have a toothbrush!” Lydia sang back.

“I have no clothes,” Izzy said.

“You get new clothes!” Lydia echoed in a brighter tone.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

“You can do anything here!”

Harry smirked; he thought Lydia was being pretty funny. “There’s a bunch of stores near the hotel. And there’ll be a toothbrush in your room, Izzy,” Harry said. His hair was just falling over his eyes and his stubble somehow made him look better, not worse. Izzy yanked her eyes away; she had been staring. Harry caught her eyes and grinned. Izzy felt like an idiot, still in her green dress. Everything about Harry made her angry: it wasn’t fair that he could look so good getting off a plane.

She could call her mom and use her savings to fly back; she was already at the airport. But it was September, back to school time, and for the first time in five years Izzy felt excited about it. Since she had to go to school locally and live at home, September was always a time of dread for her: the long commute to class, scrolling through posts from house parties while sitting at home alone.

This September would be different. She’d make it different.

A van pulled up—it wasn’t labelled, but it was obviously theirs, painted on all sides in a riot of color.

Harry, most of the opening band, Eddie, and Lydia piled in, Eddie and Harry bickering about the opening song. Izzy checked around her for George—the other plane still hadn’t arrived. There weren’t any seats left in the van.

“Sorry, is she on crew?” the Starer asked from her seat.

“Yeah, she’s with me,” said Lydia, scooting over so Lydia could sit beside her.

“That moron hired two influencers?” Harry said from the back, briefly breaking from his bickering with Eddie.

“Where’d he get the money from?” Lisa asked. Izzy hovered outside the van awkwardly, wanting to crawl out of her skin. Harry’s eyes flicked from the Starer to Izzy; Eddie started in again on his set list in imploring tones, and Harry turned away.

“She can make anything go viral. She’s a magician,” Lydia said. “And she’s just here for the weekend, anyway.”

“Fine,” said the Starer. “You guys are supposed to post three times today, according to that plan you drafted. Let’s see it. If she’s really qualified, she can stay for the weekend.” Who the fuck died and made you queen of everything, Izzy thought.

Lydia slid over and Izzy climbed in, shooting daggers at her. Lydia shrugged and returned to her phone.

“Ryan doesn’t let anyone stay unless they earn at least their room rate,” Olivia said. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re calm, you’re relaxed. ”

Izzy felt panic rumble her stomach. She didn’t know anything about going viral on social media. She frantically started Googling, with her phone at 10% battery. Izzy was normally a terrible backseat driver—being on the road made her anxiety spike. But she was too distracted now. Not just by the sight of Manhattan coming into view, a cluster of glittering skyscrapers bigger than any buildings Izzy had ever seen—if she didn’t figure out a way to turn all of this into social media success, she was done.

Harry’s phone rang at least ten times over the course of the drive, and he complained about everything, getting more and more agitated: the drive was too long, the van was too small, the hotel they picked was for assholes. Izzy agreed with all of it, but she would never say any of that out loud; like Harry, she also felt like she had been kidnapped, and had no control over her situation. Izzy’s clumsy search, “how to make social viral” turned up millions of results, most of them useless. She read up on hashtags, data-driven content strategies, trending topics, scheduling. It was all so fake, and staged, and carefully calibrated. This is what Lydia did for a living now? Izzy downloaded several analytics and AI apps to her phone. Lydia handed over her phone and Izzy checked the opening act’s social accounts: they were called Jess Harper, named after the lead singer. The Starer’s name was Jess. Izzy decided she would continue to refer to the Starer as such internally, as it was a much better fit.

Harry and Eddie’s bickering was just a warm up for the scene he pulled once they arrived at their hotel for that set of shows. They had pulled into an alleyway to go in through the back.

“I’m not a fucking circus clown here to perform tricks for people! I control my set list,” he boomed from the backseat as Eddie tried to get him out of the car.

As Izzy was about to get out of the van, wanting to get away from Harry, Lydia pulled her back in. Apparently, they were going to meet George somewhere for a shoot.

A few people on the sidewalk recognized the vehicle, and a couple had started to follow it down the alley. “The band wants this too, it’s not just me,” Harry said. “It’s like he wants to kill the whole album.”

Eddie rubbed his forehead, exhausted. “Come on, let’s get out of the car. We can talk about this upstairs.”

“Do you work for Ryan now? What the fuck is going on?”

Someone started filming Eddie with their phone.

Eddie sighed. A photographer with a bigger camera, a serious camera, ran toward the scene.

“Let’s just get inside,” Eddie said.

The cameraman pushed past Eddie, nearly knocking the hungover man to the ground. He stuck his camera into the van, aiming it backwards at Harry. Izzy put her hands up in front of her, mortified. Harry leapt forward and swung the door shut, crunching the lens.

“Jesus, Harry!” Izzy yelped from her seat.

“Drive,” commanded Harry. The van peeled out, and the camera slid down the gap between the door and the frame, before it fell out and clattered onto the asphalt. Izzy pulled the door closed and looked out the back window to see the photographer yelling at them. Eddie was approaching him, taking his wallet out of his pocket.

“We’re going shopping,” Lydia said, totally calm. She was on her phone, as usual.

“Shopping? We have to take some good photos or I’m off the tour, remember?”

“Meg’s at the hotel, asleep. You can chill. And George is meeting us,” Lydia explained.

“Let me off here,” Harry said. The car stopped suddenly.

“You don’t want to dress up and take some photos with us?” Lydia offered.

Harry said nothing and stepped out, leaving his sequinned vest behind. He looked almost boring, in a sweater and pants. He grabbed his leather jacket and closed the door gently behind him, letting his palm linger on the side where the camera had scratched it. Izzy noticed what looked like a flicker of regret across his face.

The van lurched forward and Harry left the sidewalk through the gates to a park. Central Park? Izzy recognized it from TV shows. They were way uptown. It looked so cool and quiet.

Izzy gazed back through the rearview at the trees. Harry slung his jacket over one shoulder, disappearing into the green. She wanted to curl up on the grass in the shade and take a nap.

“Lydia, I want to stay for the weekend. I want to stay,” Izzy said.

Lydia clapped her hands.

“So when we get to wherever we’re going,” Izzy continued, “we’re posting something unique and never before seen, using the trending hashtags, sending the photo fifteen minutes after we get there—midday is an optimum time apparently—and…” Izzy looked down at her phone, reading from it: “…leveraging emotions to connect to people, like joy or fear. Okay, maybe not fear, but we’re not going to wing it.”

“Oh Izzy,” sighed Lydia. The van slowed to stop. Izzy’s jaw dropped when she saw where they were: they had pulled up in front of Gucci.

Izzy tried to close her mouth as she entered the store. But it wasn’t easy. The store was like a field of flowers—so colorful. She recognized many of the pieces as similar to the things Harry wore on stage; it was like his entire wardrobe came from here. The store sparkled. No dust or synthetic brown ruffles in sight.

George raised a champagne flute in their direction from a plush seating area. He wore a sheepskin coat over his bare chest, and new pants and shoes, tags still on.

“Is this really you, though, George?” Lydia asked him, taking another flute from the glass table his feet rested on. Izzy felt frozen again. A group of saleswomen by the register looked her up and down.

“Gucci? It’s what the people want, apparently,” George said bitterly, taking another drink. Lydia frowned. Izzy wondered if she could get away without picking up a glass; she couldn’t imagine drinking while this hungover.

“Could I… could I get a shot of you?” Izzy asked. She wasn’t sure what they were or how to talk to him, after last night. Not that I was sure beforehand, she thought.

She sank down beside him on the couch, just like he did the night before. He put his arm around her. His blonde hair tickled her shoulders; the lamp behind him made him almost look like he had a halo. He put another glass in her hand and she took a deep drink.

“Wait, hold on,” Izzy said. She gestured for Lydia’s phone and snapped a photo, framing George’s side profile in silhouette, a Gucci sign just faint behind him. Lydia was already logged into his and his band’s accounts on all her apps.

Izzy checked an analytics app on her phone and added a list of hashtags that were popular, captioning the photo “stay up #blessed #nature #instagood #photooftheday #follow #model”. She put the most trending song on the platform in their target demographic—which, Izzy assumed, was people their age—behind the photo, giving it a spacey techno feel. It seemed cool. The analytics told her it was cool, at least.

Lydia took her phone back and inspected Izzy’s work. She wrinkled her nose.

“It’s not like anything else on his feed,” Izzy said, excited.

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “It’s a lie.”

“Do you want to take another one? What do you think we should do? If I don’t seem like a real social media assistant today, I’m gone.”

“I need a nap,” Lydia replied. “It’ll all work out if it’s meant to work out.” She lay down on the couch, putting her head in Izzy’s lap.

“You need a nap?”

“And you need some tour clothes, am I right?” George asked.

“What?” Izzy asked.

“Jess mentioned that you were new. Didn’t pack a bag, did you?”

Izzy shifted uncomfortably in her dress; she had been wearing it for more than 12 hours.

“I was just going to pick some things up near the hotel, like a t-shirt,” Izzy said. When she was nervous, she sometimes talked really fast. “I’m not staying longer than this weekend. I have to get back to work at the store, my mom’s store. Just helping Lydia out until then,” Izzy explained, making up her plan as she said it out loud.

“That’s really rad. You’re part of a fashion dynasty? How many stores does your family own?” George asked, standing up. He went over to a rack of blouses and pants that likely cost more than her family’s car.

“Thousands,” said Lydia sleepily. George didn’t seem to catch her sarcasm.

Izzy didn’t know what to do. She checked her phone; it was dead. She took Lydia’s phone out of her hands, and hit post on the photo she took. She put it down, too nervous to watch the likes come in (or not come in).

Just then, a shirt landed on her head. She peeled it off. The fabric felt like butter. Another landed in her lap, so slippery it slid off and pooled on the floor. George was throwing them at her from the racks, making both of them laugh.

“Try them on. Try them all on,” he said.

Izzy gathered them up, at least ten pieces in total. Including underwear. It seemed ridiculous to her to buy underwear here, when it was just cotton. She gaped at the prices: $1,150 for a black bra and panties in a diamond mesh, $1,000 for a bustier made of literal rubber. Two salespeople appeared, dressed in much nicer clothing than what she was wearing. They picked up the clothes and took them to a changing room with onyx walls, cut so thin they were slightly transparent.

George grinned at her. “You like those?”

“I’m not buying these,” Izzy said.

“Try them on.”

In the dressing room, Izzy was careful not to inspect herself in the mirror, 24 hours since her last shower. She put on a minxy black slip dress with a red dragon on the front, and came out.

Lydia was fully asleep. George had playfully wolf-whistled at Izzy. “Yeah, that one.” She tried to protest, but George wasn’t having it.

The salespeople brought her to and from the changing room, and she modelled a variety of looks with mesh straps that cut into her shoulders, or rubber that felt like it suffocated her skin. She reflected George’s excitement back at him, lighting up when he liked something. It felt like she was being sprayed with champagne; the validation was intoxicating.

She found a cardigan she liked, fuzzy cashmere almost an inch deep, and cute sneakers that were sequined in rainbow on all sides, reminding her of her favourite childhood pair that lit up when she walked.

And there was this one petal pink dress. It felt like water on her skin. When she finally looked at herself in the mirror, she was stunned. It brought out all the pink in her lips and cheeks. The dress almost made her look like an actual adult. It felt so easy and natural. In the dress, she looked like that girl. She felt like that girl.

But it was all playtime. She couldn’t afford any of this stuff. She carefully put everything back on the hangers, right side out, afraid to snag something and get hit with a multi-thousand dollar bill.

Just then, the door of her change room slammed open. Izzy was in her bra.

“What are you doing in here?”

George covered his eyes with one hand, smiling.

“It’s time to go back to the hotel. Have to be back stage at five.” George reached out in front of him, letting his fingertips graze her waist. Izzy jumped at his touch. He kept his eyes closed.

“Don’t look,” she said. It was a reflex, something she had said to Roger, too. The lights in the store were so bright.

“I’m not looking,” George replied. He brushed his lips against her jawline, then opened them. Izzy closed her eyes, feeling his tongue on her neck.

From inside the change room, Izzy heard Lydia’s phone buzz.

“It’s actually working,” Lydia said, not trying to conceal the surprise in her voice at all. “For a start, anyway. It’s getting more traction than the other posts usually do at this point.”

George bit Izzy’s neck and stumbled out of the change room, bumping the door frame, eyes still closed. They laughed.

A middle aged customer at a display case in front of them looked up to see Izzy in her underwear, change room door open, and frowned disapprovingly. Izzy suppressed a giggle and swung the door closed.

The words she had said to Meg last year, standing outside the store, echoed in her mind: sometimes I think love is for other people. Maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong.

Soon, she was back in her green dress and they were back in the van. Lydia had a bright new key chain or purse charm—Izzy didn’t know the word from it. It probably cost $400. Izzy pointed to it, about to say something, when Lydia cut in: “OnlyFans.”

Izzy’s mouth dropped open.

“Just kidding!” Lydia laughed.

No crowd formed when they pulled up in front of the hotel this time, though George looked around for one.

The lobby was all glass and matching furniture, with winged chandeliers soaring at least twenty feet above them. The curated calm of the room was cut through by a familiar voice ricocheting off the walls.

Eddie stood across from the suit, Ryan. The suit was wearing a new suit, and had two assistants behind him, also in suits, with headsets and clipboards. Eddie looked like he had never made it upstairs.

“I looked at the numbers on it, and it’s not a hitter. Sorry,” Ryan said. His assistants nodded.

“This isn’t moneyball, Ryan,” Eddie said, loosening his tie. “And even if it were, you’d need the star player for it to work. And he is currently missing.”

“He’s a performer. He wouldn’t miss a show.”

“He would,” said Eddie. “Trust me.”

Ryan seemed to be the one in charge. Izzy swallowed hard and turned to George and Lydia.

“How’s the post doing now?” she asked.

Lydia glanced at her phone, then put it away.

“Lydia?”

“It flatlined. Lower than usual. I told you,” she said gently. “I think it… came across as desperate.”

“But I am desperate,” Izzy said. This was the danger in going after what you want: it always seemed to doom Izzy to not get it. Maybe I was right all along and it is better not to try, she thought.

“I need a nap too,” yawned George. “We have to be backstage in two hours.”

“Can we… can we do one more now? Maybe…” Izzy searched around frantically for ideas, eyes settling on the van.

She posed George carefully to hide the new scratch down the side from Harry’s tantrum. Lydia watched, wincing. Izzy tried again, using fewer hashtags (but still trending ones). She copied the format and pose from something that was blowing up on TikTok. Surely, that would work? Drafting off what was already going viral. George smiled and the smile looked real, like it always did. Genuine joy, the colorful print of the van in the background.

Izzy refreshed the page constantly, following Lydia to the elevator.

“You’re Lydia’s assistant, right?”

Izzy turned to see Ryan, just inches from her.

“Yes,” Izzy said. His gaze was piercing.

“We only budgeted for one extra marketing person,” Ryan said. “You can share at this stop but we won’t have room at the next one.”

“Would you chill out?” Lydia said, tugging Izzy away. “Just look at Eddie. Be more like Eddie.” Eddie was sprawled out, talking into his phone, on one of the lobby sofas, looking totally spent. The elevator doors closed in front of them.

Izzy kept checking the post as she and Lydia soared up to the top floor. She followed Lydia down a long corridor, not really paying attention to where she was going. George had disappeared again.

Lydia opened the door to the fanciest hotel room Izzy had ever seen, all shimmering glass and lucite. Izzy barely noticed: she was greeted by Meg, who threw her arms around her neck, with a loud, reassuring “Izzy!”

Meg had gotten on the other plane and passed out at the hotel when they arrived, knowing that Izzy was with Lydia. She was more sober than the two of them at the party, and Lydia had apparently told her she could join for the whole weekend too. She was in a bathrobe, fully refreshed.

“You’ve got to shower and then you can get into some of your new clothes. We have to be at the new place in an hour,” Meg said. “Were you with George?” Meg touched Izzy’s neck.

“Yeah,” Izzy said.

“You really like him,” Meg said.

“I guess,” Izzy replied casually, hedging her bets. She felt as afraid of saying it out loud as she used to, but maybe this time, admitting that she liked someone wasn’t a curse that meant she would lose him.

“This is so good,” Meg said, gripping Izzy’s hands. Izzy could never really hide from Meg and Meg knew how much she liked George. “I can’t wait to do this for the whole weekend! Unexpected vacay!”

Lydia flicked on Lana Del Rey, playing vintage tracks from one of her early albums.

“Well, I’m not sure if we can actually stay.” Izzy said, surveying the plush and undoubtedly expensive room. “Wait. What did you say about new clothes?”

Meg gestured to the bed, covered in shiny bags, some bigger than her entire body, all from Gucci.

“Can we look at them now?” Meg asked, jumping up on the bed beside the tallest one. “George bought these for you?” Lydia went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Izzy and Meg tore the bags open, sending tissue paper flying above them and around the room. They drew out bright dresses and skirts and tops. Meg put on some of them, and Izzy changed into the funny rubber bustier and its matching skirt.

The smallest bag had two lingerie sets. When she saw them, she felt the Boulder land in the room, threatening to crush everything. Meg had Izzy throw them on over her clothes, and she did the same, laughing. They looked ridiculous. Meg turned the music up and colored paper floated around them.

“He really likes you!” Meg said. Just then, George appeared at the door, dressed in his outfit for his opening number. Olivia, Lisa, and Tara passed behind them, greeting Izzy as they walked by.

“George… what is this?” Izzy asked, gesturing around the room. She was embarrassed that she had torn open the packages. But her smile betrayed her; she loved it.

“It’s all the stuff you liked,” George said. “Now that you’re with the band, you’ll need a few things.”

“This is way too much,” Izzy said. “We should return it.”

“You. Look. Gorgeous,” he said. “Don’t disappoint me.” Izzy said thank you and that it was way too much, but he was already gone.

The rainbow shoes, soft cardigan, and pink dress weren’t there. Izzy pulled the other items out of the last bag—mesh, plastic, scary dragon dress—barely able to move her arms in the stiff rubber bustier. She got to a piece of paper at the bottom.

It was a receipt. Total: $35,214 dollars.

She said it out loud, not sure that it was real.

“How much?” Meg asked.

Izzy kicked the shoes off. She felt gross. It was way too much money.

“He must be loaded,” Meg said. Izzy thought about what her family, or any regular family, could do with that amount.

“I guess,” Izzy said. “The tickets to the tour are so expensive. They must be making bank.”

“There are three of you now?” The voice was unmistakable: the door to their room was still open, and the Starer had appeared.

“She’s my assistant’s… assistant,” Lydia said, coming out of the bathroom. She wore a towel on her head and nothing else. Compared to last night, this didn’t shock Izzy. The Starer didn’t even flinch.

“Those two posts were the worst performing on our band’s profile this year,” the Starer said, looking Izzy up and down. The Starer continued: “I doubt you can fix it now.”

“It’s no extra cost,” Meg said. “We’re just staying in Lydia’s room.”

“Food,” the Starer said. She surveyed at the three women, ankle deep in Gucci tissue paper. “Clothes, apparently. Ryan counts every penny.”

“George bought this stuff for me,” Izzy protested.

“Lydia would need a room anyway,” Meg continued.

“Really? She would?” The Starer asked.

“We still have two hours until the show,” Lydia said, rushing to close the door. Even she seemed stressed now. Izzy frowned, not understanding. Did Lydia get this job by sleeping with someone in the band? She seems so carefree, but is she okay? Was it Mitch? Elijah? Oh god, Harry?

Izzy pulled up two posts she made. They had flopped. The Starer had seen right through her. Izzy wasn’t a social media assistant. She wasn’t a creative person. She belonged at her mom’s store.

Meg started picking up the tissue paper. Izzy struggled out of the lingerie she had thrown on top of her clothes, and caught sight of herself in the hotel room’s mirror. She didn’t recognize herself. The rubber bustier cut into her shoulders, and the skirt was way too short.

“Lydia, we only have one post left. What do we do? Could you put some clothes on?”

Lydia picked up the black dragon dress and slipped it on. She looked totally at home in it.

“Izzy,” Lydia said, “all you need to do to connect to people is to tell the truth.”

She disappeared back into the bathroom.

Izzy made an excuse about needing a break, and meandered back down to the lobby and down the street, taking Lydia’s phone with her. She checked it constantly, but the numbers weren’t moving. The show was supposed to start soon and she had nothing. Oh god, she wanted to stay.

She thought about Lydia’s words. Izzy knew that she did lie, all the time. Not just today. She told the truth so rarely; she cared what everyone though too much. Talking to people always felt like an emergency, when lying to get people to like her was not just allowed but necessary. Rejection was just too painful. But maybe the life that all the lying was leaving her with was worse?

She rarely felt like herself. She barely new who that person was, outside people she could be honest with, like Meg, and the three secrets that had landed her here.

Izzy found herself in front of the gates of the park. She wandered in, feeling her shoulders relax as the shade from the trees wrapped itself around her. A wide asphalt path cut through a set of big, open fields, dotted with people having picnics and taking photos. Izzy thought she heard Summertime Sadness on the breeze, playing from someone’s phone turned upside down in a plastic red cup.

Izzy stepped onto a desire path, worn to dirt, that disappeared into a cluster of trees.

Izzy followed the path along a stream, and it was suddenly like she was out of the city entirely. The wind through the leaves hushed the noises from the street. She inhaled deeply. She missed this. She had spent seven days a week for the last few years in the store. The fake plant by the register was the only sign of wild, real life.

The heat in the air of the city was gathering into water. Everything in the park glistened in the humidity.

A touch of pink winked at her from behind an old tree with thick, winding roots. She walked over cautiously. Sitting at its base, leaning back against the roots, was Harry.

“Elisabetta,” Harry said.

“Harry.”

Izzy sat down beside him. “It’s nice here,” she said.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Harry asked, sitting up.

“Nothing I like,” Izzy replied. Harry leaned back again and closed his eyes. She had never seen him look so peaceful. He seemed damp, maybe from the heat; water seeped through his sweater at the base of his chest.

“Some people are looking for you,” she said.

“I have to open with that stupid new song. I didn’t write it. They won’t let me do anything from the new album.”

“That’s awful,” Izzy said, genuinely.

“Eddie lost,” Harry said. He threw a stone into the stream.

Sunlight filtered down through the leaves and danced on the water. It was at least ten degrees cooler here than back out on the street.

“I think I might have to leave tonight. Can I hide here with you for a while?” Izzy asked. She couldn’t face the show, the Starer, Ryan, the bus back home, the store.

“Sure,” Harry said. “Why’re you leaving?”

“I’m not a real social media expert. I work at my mom’s store, a failing store.” She felt suddenly guilty for calling it that out loud. “My mom is an incredible tailor, but it’s a little… old fashioned. My pictures from today bombed and no one’s buying me as Lydia’s assistant. Ryan’s going to send me home.”

At the word Ryan, Harry scowled.

“Do you want to take my picture?” Harry asked, cracking an eyelid and looking up at her.

Izzy raised Lydia’s phone. Harry relaxed back into the tree. Izzy took a video, with the wind ruffling Harry’s hair and sunshine dancing across his shoulders. The music playing from the park just barely wafted in. I feel it in the air... She hit post.

Then she leaned back against the tree, feeling calm. She took off her ugly new shoes and dug her bare feet into the soft leaves.

Lydia’s phone rang. Izzy picked up.

“That’s cheating.” It was the Starer, sharp voice unmistakeable. “It was supposed to be for our account.”

“It’s blowing up, Izzy,” Lydia said in the background.

“Fine, fine,” Izzy heard Ryan said. “The numbers don’t lie.” Some clambering, and then Lydia was the one on the phone.

“I can stay?” Izzy asked, shocked.

“You’re staying, Izzy,” Lydia said, unfussed. “See? Nothing to worry about. Bring my phone back, we’re about to start. And George wants to talk to you. Do you want to stay in his room?” The line cut out suddenly.

Harry stood up and stretched. “I’ll have to put up with more of your terrible playing for a bit longer?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, grinning.

“You think that was all you?” Izzy joked back. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Izzy thought about what was in front of her: she wasn’t going home. What did staying mean? What did being with the band mean? Could it be for more than a few weeks?

“It was obviously me.”

“Obviously.”

“Only a true content creator could turn this place into marketing,” Harry said, a bit of venom in his voice. God, he’s irritating, Izzy thought. Harry put on his jacket. A rain drop hit his shoulder.

“It was your idea!” Izzy protested. She followed him back up the path.

“I can’t stand all that bullshit,” he sighed. “Jess is lucky it’s just you two. I have a whole team.”

“Poor little rock star,” Izzy said.

Harry watched Izzy pause at the edge of the stream before the path merged back with the sidewalk. Harry was happy she would be around, but his brow was creased with worry. He had to keep her away from George.

Izzy held her arms out, closing her eyes to feel the rain hitting her skin, the inside of her wrists. She had never felt so relieved. She could stay.

chapter6

#fan fiction #harry styles #harry #styles #hslot #love on tour #love on tour au #love on tour fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #nyc #hslot new york #gucci #worryingamountsofgucci #dogsofinstagram #izzywiththeband #romance readers

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

2prettybestfrens | jjk

muses. jeon jeongguk x reader x park jimin ft. kim taehyung

genre. strangers to lovers!au. university!au.

words. 18.2k

drabbles. pjm

feedback.

warnings. mentions of physical insecurities, alcohol use, juul use, mention of adoption, mentions of dysfunctional families, handcuffs - lots of handcuffs, jeongguk crossdressing, too many one-sided pinings lmao

synopsis. you’re in love with kim taehyung who’s in love with jennie kim who’s in love with professor kim namjoon. so park jimin doesn’t exactly fit in all of this, yet he’s always been there in your weakest moments which may or may not be caused by your heartbreak boy - or so jeongguk likes to call him.

oh and jeongguk? you don’t even know jeongguk until that party-gone-awry night where you end up handcuffed together to ponder on what you did.

when you uploaded a snapchat of your darkened room and a single teary-eyed emoji because kim taehyung uploaded one where a beautiful girl was covering her mouth while she giggled, jimin snapped back a ‘why r u awake 😬’ to which you snapped the same darkened room with a slightly different angle and a ‘just cause’. his last snap to you contained a ‘cool wanna call?’ before you dialed him up and ended up talking until 5 in the morning before bidding each other-

“well, good night then,” you’d muttered.

“g’morning,” he’d wished you back in a soft mumble and a hint of sleepiness taking over.

that happened on a friday night. on monday and for the rest of the week, you merely greeted each other in the hallway and went on your days without the inclusion of the other.

when you sat by yourself on the bench on the sidewalk of campus, under the shade of a great old tree a few feet away from your department after being left high and dry when kim taehyung’s friends asked him if he’s joining them to get mcdonald’s which he’d in turn asked if you wanted to tag along and you said you were good only because you never did well in groupies - park jimin sat down next to you, head thrown back as he squinted at the gaps of the leaves where the tiniest of sun rays managed to pass through and dot his face. blonde tresses swaying ever so softly when the wind blew past you.

“so how was finance?” he looked like he was asking the waving branches.

“eh, it was fine, professor kim’s a good teacher,” you shrugged, the sight of jennie suavely smiling and said professor shooting glances at her made you mentally vomit.

“man,” he blew a gust of air from his mouth as he ran a hand through his semi-long tresses, “were we in the same class? because all i remember was dozing off five minutes into class.”

“that’s why you should sit at the front,” you’d suggested.

it was then, did he push himself off the ground and stood up, black and white jacket pushed back as he slipped his hands into the pocket of his jeans. eyes narrowing while his tongue protruded against the inside of his cheek before he went, “you hungry?”

“starving,” you rolled your eyes before collecting your mac and holding it to your chest, bag slung over your shoulders.

the both of you didn’t go to mcdonald’s but the food tasted just as good that day at the cafe in your faculty.

when kim taehyung asked jennie if she was free friday night and the girl turned to you with an endearingly oblivious, “do we have any plans on friday?” and taehyung awkwardly but not so hesitantly corrected, “um, i mean, just you jennie,” the air, without a doubt turned tangibly tense and awkward.

“oh,” jennie’s brows knitted together as she stared at him, as though trying to spot the caption on his forehead as to why he invited only her when everyone knew you and jennie never go anywhere without the other if you didn’t have any prior engagements, “well, ___ and me are going to hang out together so yeah, i’m not free.”

you weren’t sure if she was dumb or playing dumb but you’d found out later that night, that she’d been irritated with kim taehyung’s non-considerate advancements which she’d recently noticed seemed to exclude you ‘i hate people who make plans in front of someone and not invite them’ was her exact word before she followed up with a ‘blockedt’.

but backtrack to when the tension seemed to rise higher than the sky, you were saved by jimin when he came mini-jogging towards you with that adorable boyish smile and crescent eyes, “hey, i was looking for you - you wanna walk to accounting together?”

you’d waved jennie and taehyung goodbye and gladly walked with jimin to class.

and so it goes, with kim taehyung’s eyes lighting like fireworks in the midnight sky when he sees jennie and the girl itching to make a beeline to the opposite side of where he comes from and you shooting her ‘be nice’ looks whilst park jimin pops up now and then in the most convenient time until ‘us’ no longer comprise of you and jennie but also taehyung and jimin.

so much so, some of your casual friends come to you asking for either of the boys when they seem to have something to inform them which you’re not sure why isn’t informable through text. but either way, you’ve become two best friends with additional friends.

maybe said additional friends happen to fall in the top list of cuties in the girls and gays’ books but besides kim taehyung, if you looked, like really really looked at park jimin, you concurred, perhaps he does have the right to be in said list with his unblemished, smooth skin, perfect pink lips and pretty sparkly eyes.

“what?” his lips do the thing where they curl, revealing a pair of perfectly lined white pearls.

“nothing,” you say as you find yourself third-wheeling in taehyung’s bmw with jimin at the back and the first commenting something about his older sister liking to shop at zara as well when jennie asked you if you were free tomorrow to go to the mall near campus.

“i mean i can go with you girls, i have a two-hour gap between classes,” the boy offers.

“oh,” the first laugh trickles out of your mouth without a stop switch, “you’re so cute.”

you can hear jennie snickering in the passenger seat as you turn away from the angle where taehyung could see you in the rear-view mirror, only to come face to face with jimin who seems to get your humor.

“it’s not a big deal,” taehyung shrugs, a tinge of pride in his voice.

“my man,” jimin pats said man on his shoulder, “you don’t know jack shit about women.”

“what?” the older boy asks, perplexed and quite honestly irritated for some reason - but then again, he never seems to like jimin’s quick-to-catch-on nature when it comes to any girls-related topics.

“two hours is not enough to shop, taehyung,” jennie finally decodes the long standing cipher, “we can barely explore one shop.”

by the end of her words, you’re is full out snickering like an unattractive hyena, “i thought you have a sister?”

“i do,” there’s a tinge of confusion in his tone, “she usually goes shopping with her boyfriend.”

“well, how long did it take them to go shopping?” she quizzes, sharing an amused look with jimin.

“uh,” it’s then, do you hear the sound of the screws in taehyung’s brain twisting, “she usually stays over whenever they do.”

“well, whatever you think they did after they went shopping - it’s probably not it,” jimin snickers, shoulderline jolting as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“so cute,” jennie echoes your earlier words, neck craning to look at the two other passengers in the back seat as she gives you a one-eyebrow-lifted look as if to say ‘this is the guy you’re crushing on?’

at that, you shrug, unapologetically mouthing ‘he’s cute’ - in a much different and adoring sense than the first time which jennie must’ve gotten when she shakes her head, a hopeless smile on her lips as she turns to the road again.

you were on your way to the movies then.

“oh my god,” jennie squeals, eyes skimming your specifically-handpicked-by-jennie-kim attire, “you look so cute!”

“only because i agreed to be your live mannequin,” you say rolling your eyes but the curl of a smile on your lips is unstoppable.

“no - because i know what kind of style suits you,” she narrows her eyes in a ‘you know i’m right’ kind of manner, “no offense, your usual style is cute too but it’s more like an... ‘i have a crush, don’t talk to me’ kind of look, you know?”

“am i wrong though?” your eyebrows rise, mimicking her ‘you know i’m right’ look.

she raises a hand, her free one scrolling through her phone as she announces, “i don’t recommend crushing on airheaded guys but you do you sis,” then she looks up, staring at you straight in the eye with the most deadpanned expression, “but if he breaks your heart, i’ll break his leg,” it’s a full, solid moment later, just as you were about to burst out laughing, does she say, “literally.”

and it’s times like these that you fear for another person’s life that isn’t yours - well, taehyung’s life isn’t just anyone’s but - as she turns back to her phone ever so casually.

but before you can fret any further, your phone vibrates, the words ‘chim’ flashing across your screen with a ‘get yo asses down’ and contrasting ‘ur chauffer awaits’ popping a second later.

“get your ass up. they’re here,” you end up saying, pushing your phone into the back pocket of your leather pants that jennie manages to convince you to put on for some unknown reason - that reason going along the lines of ‘kim taehyung’ and ‘jealousy’, but you’re not one to dwell on why one do things they do as you accept jennie’s grabby-motioned hands in request for assistance to be pulled up.

it turns out the shopping plan gets pushed to saturday where taehyung is basically spouting out how he’s a good judge for fashion and that he hasn’t gone to the mall since the semester started which to be fair, was only a month ago.

you’re not sure how jimin ended up tagging along - the two aren’t even the bestest buddies - but someway, somehow, he always manages to get taehyung to pick him up and drop him off whenever the taller man makes plans to go out with you and jennie.

“wow,” jimin is the first to notice, mouth taking on an ‘o’ shape he basically ogles in plain daylight.

“what do you think?” jennie comes up behind you, chin resting on your shoulder as she wraps her arms around your waist then she turns to taehyung who was the last to get out of the car, “doesn’t ___ look pretty, taehyung?”

at the sound of his name rolling off the tongue of the girl he’s been pining for since he laid eyes on her, his gaze lights up - but only to meet jennie’s. one look at you and he turns back to her with the most beautiful smile, “yeah, she looks great - did you help choose the top?”

“actually,” the girl begins with a cheery tone - they’re walking a few steps behind you whilst you and jimin walk together. it’s been like that for as long as you remember, “i picked out the whole fit. it wasn’t easy though because...”

kim jennie walking side-by-side with kim taehyung whilst you with jimin whenever the two boys join you, be it whether to get to a class you all share, to go to the library to study or to get some lunch - has become a familiar view to your mutual friends. so much so, you’ve heard of a rumor going around that you’re a couple of best friends.

like literal couples. you with jimin and jennie with taehyung. thanks to that, no one would have suspected jennie’s relationship with professor kim nor would anyone see through the veil of friendly smiles and amicable conversations to be you pining over your best friend’s alleged boyfriend.

you’ve gotten used to hearing jennie and taehyung’s conversation fade into the background yet never really able to disregard the way taehyung laughs at something your best friend says or the sight of the two walking a few feet ahead with taehyung’s head almost always turned to jennie’s and the girl, oblivious, occasionally cranes her neck to look at him at the beginning of her sentence before directing her gaze to the front where she’s walking.

jennie dislikes taehyung less now, if only because he steers the conversation towards the areas of interest - which he seems to know a lot of. kudos to you for answering his ass-crack o’clock texts of ‘heyyy what kind of movie does jennie like?’s and ‘heyy you girls got any plans tomorrow?’s.

“you look great in those leather pants, by the way,” jimin’s voice makes you turn to the other boy, a boyish smile on his lips, “so let me guess,” his head tilts to the side as the dip between his thumb and index finger hooks itself underneath his chin, eyebrows knitted together in heavy contemplation, “are you going for a good girl gone bad kind of look,” a playful smile tugs on the corners of his lips, “or are you in a secret biker gang and have a biker meeting at 7?”

you lean closer to the man, hand covering your mouth as you whisper, “you didn’t hear this from me but we’re convoying to disney land. i heard it’s more magical during christmas.”

or so you thought your whispering skills were close to perfect but a cat with brown hair pops up from next to you, eyes glinting with excitement, “did someone say christmas?!”

so you end up early-christmas shopping just because of that one word that triggers the warm-hearted-who-ness in her. and that’s how you, taehyung and jimin gets dragged from one store to another. but where your attention gets robbed with material things like-

“oh look, a snow globe with a puppy and a snowman in it!” you shake the see through globe, watching as pseudo snowflakes rain over the unmoving pupper and olaf lookalike before you sigh, “technically the snowman isn’t alive and the doggo is alone by itself in a world where nobody else can enter - and on christmas at that . oh my god, i think i’m gonna cry.”

- but jennie’s interest lies within the holiday-themed clothes. sweaters. costumers. lingerie. you name it and jennie kim tries it on.

“___ - pssst, hey,” there she goes, hiss-whispering your name as if you’re not right in front of the curtain she’s poking her head through, eyes darting around for the two boys who, last you saw, were doing the best to look interested in reindeers and candy printed sweaters.

“what, girl, what?” you whisper back, trying to peek through the gap of the curtain over her head as if you’ve never entered a changing room together.

and as if reading your mind, her bare arm that’s supposed to be wrapped with the floral cotton material of her sleeve - shoots out, hand wrapping around your wrist.

a “wha- ah-!” probably echoed off the walls and turned some heads but you’re no longer in the position to check as you find your back pressed against the wall of the cubicle and red and white lace-wearing jennie posing for you.

“so?” she beams.

“those are so cute, oh my god,” you end up his-whispering whilst trying to keep your voice low, “where did you get them? i only ever saw you checking out - and you have got to admit this - ugly sweaters!”

“girl, the lingerie section is just next to the sweaters,” her eyes seem to disappear behind her crescents as she crinkles her nose, “no but for real, you think i was gonna buy them? i just needed the boys to go away. and. they. finally. did,” she rolls her eyes, “it took awhile but kim taehyung is so persistent.”

“that’s why he’s so... cute,” you hum, eyes shutting close as the picture of the aforementioned man flashes behind your eyes. he’s looking at you with those dark eyes and he’s smiling at you with that magnetic-

“gross! get your ass out of the gutter,” a squeal hits the air as your eyes flutter open to the sight of your best friend’s contorted faces as if-

“um, girl,” you tilt your head just the slightest bit, hand on your hip while your other hand raises in a ‘hold up’ manner, “out of the two of us, you’re the one that’s gotta stop being silly and start wrapping professor kim’s willy.”

a stick of tongue out is all you’ve got as a response before she turns to her phone that’s vibrating at an alarming rate.

that’s when you feign almost-vomit, “did you - ulgh - sent him a - ulgh - nude?”

in any ordinary circumstance, she would have made faces to mimic a much ridiculous series of vomiting in response to your fake almost-vomits but when her smile tugs downwards in a disheartened pout, you practically drop all the ugly sweaters you picked out just for the sake of getting into the christmas spirit and rush over to the girl - which is only one and a half feet away.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you coo as she starts blinking back tears.

“i knew it,” she huffs out a puff of air, hand fanning at her waterline, “i fucking knew it.”

in between the ‘you’re okay’s and ‘everything’s going to be okay’s on your part and jennie’s increasingly growing sobs, you manage to make out the words she blurts out. something along the lines of ‘not spending as much time as we used to’ and ‘because i’m ugly as fuck’. so you hold her tighter, fingers brushing out the potentially forming knots in her hair each time it gets into her tear stained face and gets aggressively pushed out of said face with the back of the hand.

it’s been going on since the start of the third year - the ‘i can’t make it tonight’s and ‘sorry, i’m going to have to rain check’s.

you’ve been a silent spectator of how your best friend’s face lights up whenever she talks about her secret affair with the youngest professor in the business faculty, how he lives up to her private swooning with the smallest ‘miss kim, how was your day’s when he met her in the hallway, ever so casually greeting one of his supposed students like any professor would and treats her to fine-dinings and became the reason why forehead kisses are her favorite kind of kiss now.

he never really tried to hide his fondness for her even at the faculty and though you knew your best friend could get anyone she wanted, you were dubious of whether that anyone actually deserved such a loving, beautiful person. nonetheless, kim namjoon seems to be the exact person who does.

“hey, look at me,” you implore, sitting cross-legged on the floor whilst your knees touch and your fingers twine together in a fingers hug, or so jennie coined the term in your first year, “you’re so beautiful.”

“you don’t mean that,” she mumbles out.

“girl, if i were to be born again and were allowed to choose how i’m going to look - i want your eyes, they like, pull people in - not gonna lie, i started talking to you because you were intimidating but also really alluring. does that make sense?” you hold up a hand when she begins to giggle lightly, head shaking in show of her disagreement.

“but when i did get to know you, you’re the sweetest, squishiest,” a protest falls from her lips as she clasps a palm over the spot on her arm that you just pinched, “person alive. and oh!” you pinch her cheeks next, chuckling at how she crinkles her nose and like the feline she’s always been associated with, “and i want your cute chubs cheeks! and your adorable nose, and your lips,” you pause for the longest moment before retracting, “okay maybe i’d want my lips but your lips are juicy too!”

she makes a sound at the back of her throat, eyes of dried tears rolling, “please, i barely have any lips.”

“i mean, they’re still kissable,” you shoot her a suggestive look, “and i know out of the two of us, one would kiss you if she’s a little bit more fruity.”

“okay, maybe you think i’m kinda pretty,” she gives in.

but that’s not enough for you,“bih, you’re a literal goddess,”

“i’m not but anyway beauty is subjective so maybe namjoon’s perspective’s changed.”

“nope - nu-uh, we can cry and just... let ourselves feel the emotion that’s been bottling up and burst at one single message but what we’re not gonna do is mope around, being sad all day because of our presumptions that someone else thinks we’re not good enough or pretty enough. because you are and i would die for you.”

she hiccups, “i don’t know if i would die for you but i’d sacrifice my first born for you.”

“ew,” you feel your nose crinkling, “no, you’re not gonna trap me with a kid - that’s a trap right there and i’m not falling for it.”

jennie ends up laughing too loudly that one of the store attendants end up kicking you out. jimin and taehyung followed suit a second later, acting like they didn’t know you two but walking towards you anyway. you’re not sure if they noticed jennie’s swollen eyes but neither mentioned anything about it. instead, taehyung suggests- “since we’re already out, you guys wanna go to chanyeol’s party?”

so you end up going to the party. the apartment’s too cramped for your liking but jennie’s found some mutual friends of yours that she’s dancing and laughing with. and maybe that’s why you haven’t bolted right out of the door the moment you stepped in.

jimin found some of his own friends. they’re probably not from the faculty since you don’t remember seeing them around and taehyung-

you’re not quite sure why taehyung is following you around like a lost puppy and trying to make small talks with you. internally, your heart’s doing flips but your head’s been giving out one of those obnoxiously loud sirens with lights as red as the cup you’re holding.

“...and you know, it’s pretty cool how they managed to attract foreign investors within six months of starting up their business,” taehyung is saying, the awkward shrug and eyes glued to the ground telling you that he’s not so into whatever he’s saying either.

“yeah, like, they definitely got lucky or something,” you nod in agreement.

funny how the blare of the music is barely allowing you to have a proper conversation but all you hear is deafening silence as you stand five feet apart - the kind of distance that screams acquaintances but less than friends and most definitely not lovers.

but then he stands on his two feet instead of leaning his weight on just one - and he looks at you right in the eye for the first time that night. and your stupid heart goes fluttering like the petals in a field.

“hey, i don’t wanna be a nosy or anything but,” he pauses for the briefest second, eyes slanting to somewhere on the dance floor where you think you last saw jennie and then he refocuses back to you. but you already know where his mind and soul remains, “what happened today? like, jennie’s acting off, like something’s bothering her and she’s kinda drinking more than she should and it kinda feels like she doesn’t want me around.”

it takes a moment to ponder on how much you should say before your words become affirmation and affirmation will probably lead to more assumptions and - “well, you should ask her.”

“uh, i- she doesn’t- i don’t know how - i don’t wanna annoy her, you know what i mean? and since you’re best friends, i thought maybe you’d-” he’s scratching the back of his head when you cut him off.

“there’s your answer,” you raise the half-empty cup that’s been lying undrunken in your hands, “if you’re not gonna square up and tell her how you feel, then you, my friend,” your stomach drops at the word but you manage to land a solid pat on his arm, “are going to live the rest of your live like this - wondering what the hell is going on because you’re really not sure where you stand. and i get it, confessing to someone is terrifying and depending on jennie’s answer, you might or might not be able to talk to her ever again but it’s better to get it out there. feelings are like farts, you know?” the way his brows come together in a confused what-the-hell moment, is adorable, “hold it in and you’ll feel like something’s not right and it is never going to be until you get all of it out of your system.” and with a nod and a tight-lipped smile, you leave him with a “good luck,” before wandering over to the dance floor, not sure where you’re going because jennie, lisa chaeyoung and jisoo’s not where you thought they were and the only less crowded but still suffocating part of the apartment is the kitchen where you don’t want to risk going back and seeing taehyung there, unmoving in the spot where you left him.

amid all of it, you almost get your shoulder dislocated before a hand shoots out and pulls you back on your two feet whilst you raise your cup higher in hopes to save its contents from spilling.

the man that caught you looks between you and your raised cup for two solid seconds before a grin tugs on his face and he clicks his own cup to yours, “cheers.”

“aha, yeah,” you laugh as you feel his grip on your arm loosening and you pull it back to your side like a robot, taking a sip of your nicely saved drink.

“thanks for not letting me fall,” you say a moment later, after thanking whatever deity is out there that allows you to get your first drink into the right pipe without feeling the need to cough out loud.

“no problem,” even in the poor lighting, you can easily catch the sight of pearly whites lined up perfectly amid an alluring smile, that is, before a pair of brows knit together in what seem like an unresolvable conundrum, “hey, you don’t happen to...” he pauses for the longest moment, eyes slanting to scan the crowd and making you do the same until he commands your attention back with his next words, lips curling back into the breathtakingly attractive smile as words tumble past them, “...see two pretty best friends in here, do you?”

and that’s when your interest, wherever it is, plunges straight down to the ground and into the ether, “oh,” your vision shakes as you nod repeatedly before forcing out a dry “ha ha” which isn’t meant to disguise your displeasure at all - if anything, a wave of satisfaction crashes over you when his smile falters, “yeah, that - that’s really funny,” you say plainly, smile still plastered on your face.

“o-kay,” he drags out the word for half a second, teeth clenched together in growing panic as all traces of humor fade away, “...joke too old?”

“well, let’s see,” you feel your index finger tapping your chin as you throw your gaze up to the ceiling, “i get it, tell the ugly best friend she’s ugly but in a joking way,” you shrug, “you don’t need to rub it in my face cause i know and yes it’s getting old.”

it takes a whole solid moment of blaring music and non-caring half-way-drunken college students continuing to grind against one another and this insanely attractive stranger staring at you with jaws on the ground, for you to wave a dismissive hand.

“you know what? don’t worry, jennie’s not here, thankfully or she would’ve blo-” air fills your throat and cuts you off when he frowns, “who?”, to which you raise your eyebrows, “je-” you almost choked, “jennie?”

he shakes his head the second time, bottom lip jutting out in an additional- “nope” gesture as he continues with “never heard of her,” after your “jennie... kim?”

so you go one, “kinda cute height, long hair, brunette-” he shrugs, “nope- doesn’t ring a bell,” in the middle of your, “-fierce cat-like eyes but adorable as heck personality?”

in the end he wins with a final word of, “no - nope,” after a whole solid moment of your silenced disbelieve and him drawing his pondering session to a close.

“oh,” escapes your lips before you can even register, “so - it was- like-”

“yeap,” he nods, “it was-”

“a joke?”

“a joke.”

you both announce at the same time. the tones may differ but the essence is there, leaving one to stare at the ground in shame for having snapped at a complete stranger and the other staring with unapologetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” you finally manage to utter, shoulderline falling with your walls of pride, “i thought it was one of those micro aggressive jokes people throw around just because they can’t straight out tell someone they’re ugly-”

but the words seem to enter through one ear and go out the other when his brows begin to knit together for the nth time of the night - and in a matter of less than thirty minutes at that - when he declares before you get to properly end your sentence, “you’re pretty as hell. why did you think i’d randomly try to crack a joke to a stranger and risk pissing pants off on the off chance she took it badly... which you did. i’m sorry for pushing the wrong button.”

“oh,” but just like him, your brain short-circuits and you seem to only truly hear the first part of what he’s saying as just like any girl - you curse yourself as you - shy away from his gaze, hand going up to tuck your hair behind your ear before you slowly peek up through your lashes, “thanks,” you blink once, shrugging, “and it’s fine i get that joke a lot - i don’t usually care, i don’t know what got into me tonight.”

but before he manages to say anything, the loudspeaker starts reverberating with the sound of someone clearing their throat and a “how’s everyone doing?” and a dismissive “alright, alright you might be wondering ‘who the eff is this guy’ right? yea, yea, i know, but-” he stops, eyes scanning the crowd for a suspenseful effect, “-but you’re gonna wanna hear this,” to which a groan erupts from the crowd, so he quickly gets to the point “don’t panic,” most of the time, that’s exactly when you should panic, “so, the police are coming.”

his name is jeon jeongguk and he goes to your university’s rival university. his hair is actually a shade of rich deep brown that forms wavy ends and contrasts glaringly against his sharp jawline under the fluorescent lighting which also highlights his pearly whites that remind you of bunnies when his lips curl over them when he smiles.

to think that he’s doing that now while the police officer, a man in his 40′s and on the shorter side of the spectrum is ten steps from marching up to you with a disapproving gaze on his face.

his hair falls over his face in half ringlets, an excited glint in his eyes, “he’s mad cause we’re clean.”

a guy somewhere a few people away from you is sobbing increasingly loudly with every step the officer takes before he comes to a stop in front of you, eyes skimming each faces one by one until he stops on you.

“you,” he announces before sighing deeply, “you look like a kid who wouldn’t cause trouble, why are you here?”

“uh,” the chain around your wrist feels cold but jeongguk’s pinky that’s touching yours as your thighs brush together - is warm, “i...” you pause, in search for words before settling with a disappointing confession “i don’t know,”

the officer echoes your statement with a critical emphasize on the ‘don’t’.

and because of that, you blink once, “in fact, does anyone know what they’re doing at all? if you think about it we’re just astronomical particles in this vast universe which is called the milky way,” you pause, if only squint at his sparse mustache, “why is it even called milky way? like, there’s absolutely no scientific evidence that milk exists in outer space or do you reckon the guys that named it just feels like drinking some milk while they were-”

by the end of it, a few snickers have escaped from the people you and jeongguk were caught with, the aforementioned man, having turned his head the other way as his shoulders jolt silently and it’s only then does the officer’s increasing confused expression contorts into that of a maddened bore, “keep hanging out with him and you’re gonna find yourself behind bars.”

“that hurts my feelings, detective yoo,” jeongguk confesses, forehead creasing as his uncuffed hand holds the spot on his chest where his heart should be.

the man finally shakes his head, motioning to a younger officer who looks just about your age to start unlocking everyone’s cuffs - there were a few other people you’ve never seen before dragged out of the vicinity and to the station. he speaks a moment later, “you kids are lucky because none of you are associated with the ones down the hallway - we were initially going for them. busted their asses and found over a hundred kilograms of cocaine.”

once your cuffs are off and you get your phone back, you’re fast-scrolling through the messages on the notification window before swiping up and searching for jennie’s contact. it turns out she, taehyung and jimin guessed you were one of the few who didn’t make it and waited for you near the building where the party was busted.

“oh my god,” jennie is the first to dash into your arms as if she hadn’t seen you since forever, “i’m so sorry i left you!”

“well to be fair, i left you,” you mumble, your arms banded around her waist while hers around your neck.

and just when you thought the melodrama would end when she pulls away, you find yourself staring at sparkly-eyed jennie and the most heartbreaking downturned lips, “i will never,” she pauses, “ever let you out of my sight.”

you’re exactly against that idea - after all, you’ve made plans to buy a beach house and move in together in your olden days once you’ve poiso- burried your husbands who died of a totally natural cause.

it’s only after breaking apart from a second hug, do you realize the man standing not-so-awkwardly five feet away.

“don’t mind me,” jeongguk holds up his hands, “i don’t watch much drama but i might after all this.”

“jeongguk,” you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face at his joke, “this is jennie,” then you turn to the girl who still has her arm around your waist, and you her, “jennie, jeongguk.”

“have i seen you before?” her cat-like eyes narrows just the slightest bit, as though if she tried hard enough, she’d see the pieces of moving memories that’ll somehow point out where she claims to have met him - but you don’t doubt it if they have, jennie gets invited to a lot of parties and hookups.

you should’ve known when jeongguk’s eyes sweep over you with a playful glint in them as he begins, “that’s funny because ____ here-” that from this point forward, that you shouldn’t have put your foot forward and prance at him like a predator with a secret, hand clasped against a surprisingly hard chest before your brain can register what you’re doing.

and when it does, you’re left to awkwardly pat his chest in what you hope to be friendly gesture whilst you force out a laugh, “that- that was really funny jeongguk,” you turn to jennie who, having known you all your life easily catches onto your out-of-character laugh but says nothing, so you point at the guy you’re basically and is still groping - to which you’ve finally tear your hand off his body, “he’s a funny guy.”

“and who exactly is this funny guy?” taehyung comes up on your left - you think you catch sight of his sleek bmw parked on the other side of the street where he must’ve strutted up from in his beige jacket with his hands buried in its pockets.

“just...” you trail off before your brain completely fries and you blurt out, “some guy.”

and that’s when jeongguk decides to call you out, “some guy? i helped you through a life lesson.”

you attribute the alcohol in your system that’s slowing down the neurons and disables you from thinking before you act when you roll your eyes, “in case you didn’t realize, you were in there laughing your ass off when i had to have my own back while that officer looked like he was a word away from dragging me to the police station for talking back to a law enforcement.”

“you talked back to an officer?” jennie chirps, her jaw falling to the ground as her cat eyes widen in excitement and astonishment.

“she did,” jeongguk nods at the girl, a displaced proud smile on his lips before he looks back to you, “brought out the boomer in him too.”

“you pissed off an officer?” this time, it’s jimin who pops up from behind taehyung, before casually nodding to jeongguk with a “hey man.”

“i mean, it was probably ___’s sheer guts and rebellious streak alone that helped free us,” jeongguk goes on, eyes glinting with amusement in the briefest moment they slant to meet yours but they’re gone too soon as he redirects your attention to jimin and jennie’s overpouring questions.

and because jennie wanted to hear more about how jeongguk embellished what went down, taehyung ends up agreeing to give the stranger a ride as you get squished between two men with jennie constantly pulling on the strap of the seatbelt to look over to the backseat, her mouth constantly dropping with every word jeongguk utters like he’s some well-known storyteller.

by the time the car rolls to a stop in front of his apartment building, jennie’s shooting you approving, borderline provocative looks your way - you don’t doubt that if she had any power in her hand to put both you and jeongguk in the same room, lock the door and swallow the key, she would in a heartbeat.

“hey,” jeongguk leans over the doorframe, “can i talk to you for a sec?” it’s the way he tilts his head to the side on a 35 degree angle, paired with that dangerous smile he’s been shooting you in the briefest span of moments jennie’s head is turned to the road and jimin’s gave is thrown outside of the window and taehyung isn’t stealing glances from the rear-view mirror - that makes you want to shake your head in rejection to his request and prance out of the car like a predator in heat at the same time.

but instead, you calmly slide over to the side now vacant side and slip out of the car, closing the door behind you so no ears can eavesdrop.

the scent of his cologne wafts stronger into your senses now that you have no police officers to be cautious of nor any embellished stories to correct.

that, or maybe it’s the way he’s got you trapped against the car door and his body, right arm placed perfectly on the roof of the car, next to your head.

“bout time you give me your @, no?” the corner of his lips tilts higher into a cocky smirk.

“um, yea,” you begin, “i think it’s better if we leave into the night like strangers with stories, you know? and if we’re meant to find each other, we will,” you swear on your grandmother’s grave that you will never go to any parties anymore, “makes a good plot for a drama,” eyes going wide and mouth taking on an ‘o’ shape, you continue, “didn’t you say you were gonna start watching those?”

his shoulderline shakes as he chuckles, head dropped it tilts up, eyes capturing yours, “i’m not falling for that,” his announcement is plain and simple and yet you’re forced to put twice the effort in your smile as to not let it falter, “after getting my chest groped and caressed, i deserve at least-”

“it was a friendly pat, mind you,” you correct, smile still glued to your face before rolling your eyes, “but snapchat is as far as i’m willing to go.”

“works for me,” the screen of his phone flashes with a dark mode keypad splayed over it - you’re not sure how he unlocked it without taking those glinted eyes off you but he did. so you swipe the phone off his hand and send yourself a request through his account.

“i’m gonna open your snap and leave you on read!” you announce, and he laughs, “alright, bet!”

and with that, he waves at you using the same phone he told you to put your number in, taking a few steps backward, allowing you room to breathe properly again before he whirls on his heels and walks through the glass double doors.

you don’t wait any longer than you have to, shivering from the cold night air when you slip into the car.

“did you give him your number?!” jennie practically screams.

“no but i gave my snapchat only because he looked like he wouldn’t sleep a wink at night if i didn’t,” you shrug.

and that’s how kim jennie gets it into her head that you’re going to get your first-boyfriend-cherry popped. or so she likes to believe.

but that’s the least of your concern for the greater one comes in a devil with black jeans and matching plain t-shirt and timberlands and a lit up screen at exactly three something in the am, right after you’re done with a hot shower and in a middle of towel drying your hair and putting on your night routine skincare.

you open the text revealing a night view of a cityscape from a window which room is surrounded by darkness and a transparent horizontal strip with a ‘❄️ ’ in the middle from a goldenjks.

so you snap a picture of your skincare products next to a mirror with you and a towel on your head, face blocked by your hand that’s holding your phone, choosing to send ‘🍜’.

and so it goes, the snap war that erupts between you and user goldenjks throughout the night which, after you’d gotten into bed with the lights off, basically includes snaps of your darkened room and his more superior window view.

before long, you started texting on snapchat about how the police officer seems to know him and how-

goldenjks

u were p chill for someone who got arrested for the 1st time

you’re giggling in the darkness at 5:23 am.

you

cs ik i didn’t do anything wrong

duh

and he mentions something about a sobbing kid that was made to wait with you and nobody really did anything to comfort him.

goldenjks

that coulda been u if i wasn’t there probably

you roll your eyes but you can feel your muscles becoming sore from the way your lips are stretching from ear to ear.

then it starts with how taehyung didn’t saying anything throughout the ride up until the car rolled to a stop in front of jeongguk’s place.

goldenjks

r u guys using him for his car???

cs same

i would 2

you

wtf

we’re not 😭😭

and without much thought, you end up spilling a not-so-secret but not-so-well-known truth.

you

welp

he’s using me to get close to jennie so

ig i should use him for his car

oof

goldenjks

ooof

so let me guess

u can’t say no to him cs u have the biggest crush on him

“what the hell?” you mumble to yourself, smile pulled down into a frown, but before you can type out a reply, two more pop up on his side.

goldenjks

and jimin head over heels for u

you

🧢 🧢 🧢

u funny 😂😂😂

goldenjks

fr fr tho 😔😔😔

i would b too

all of a sudden, a boy with the softest blonde hair and crescent eye smiles floods your throughts. you and jimin might have been casual friends for the longest time and only until recently started hanging out together - and he may or may not hold confidential information about the littlest details of the lack of smile on your face and the blank snaps in your stories whenever you’re down.

but to say he’s reacting such way because he’s into you would be a total scam.

so you shake your head, laughing out loud, “nah can’t be.”

you

alright imma 😴😴😴

to which jeongguk tests back a gnight and after one whole solid minute, a text u tmr?

you leave him on read.

“like, who does he think he is?” you huff, burying the plastic spoon into the ice cream before scooping up a chunk of neapolitan flavored goodness and directing it into your mouth, “he literally met us just last night and he’s spouting shit like he knows us for years?”

“i don’t know,” jennie humps, tongue darting out to lick the remnants of strawberry ice cream on her upper lips before she goes on with a smile that screams ‘just get together already’, “it’s kinda hot to me when guys know shits, you know what i mean?”

you’ve managed to avoid jimin and taehyung at all costs and sneak to the ice cream parlor that’s five minutes away from campus where you spilled your guts out about how you got unreasonably irritated by the long running joke, about how jeongguk’s hand wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you out of the way of the chaotic college students who were rushing to get out of the small, cramped apartment and how you stopped him from relaying your disbelief of his lack of knowledge about her.

“like, i flipped out at him because of some stupid joke,” you shrugged, hands fiddling with each other while a coat of smoke wafted over the newly scooped and paid-for ice cream.

your name rolled off her lips before she stared at you with her hands on hear heart, “i- i didn’t know you would go so far as fight a guy for me for calling me ugly,” then she laughed, “but you don’t have to. girl, we been knew i’m ugly as fuck.”

your jaw hit the ground at the word she used to describe herself before you blinked and came back to your senses and aggressive defenses, “oh my god, i’m the ugly one and you’re the literal goddess - like, i shouldn’t even be looking at you. i should be looking at your sole. you should be stepping on me - step on me! now!”

a yelp resonated into the air as you groped around for jenni’s left leg in an attempt to lift her foot to make her step on you to which you both ended up laughing hysterically after realizing that she was wearing a skirt and the way you were sitting may or may have not resulted in an array of possible outcomes.

“oh my god, do you think she saw my panties?” she meant the woman in her late 40′s who were shooting disapproving eyes at the both of you as she scrolled through her phone, seeming to be waiting for someone before placing an order.

“you just flashed a poor old woman who came to have some ice cream,” you were hunched over, hand covering your face as you stole glances her way which didn’t hold long because you ended up giggling with the girl when you caught each other’s eyes.

“you think she likes what she sees?” jennie’s brows rose suggestively and you knew what she was going to say next before the words even leave her mouth, “you think maybe i should tell her about my onlyfans?”

it was a few bursts of giggles later, that you’d finally managed to talk properly. or probably because jennie’s question brought out an unwelcomed emotion that you pushed to the back of your conscience last night and for the most part, managed to forget, “so,” her brows were wiggling like earthworms on her forehead, “did he text you?”

that was what spurred the whole confession and up to the moment where you spilled the contents of the unfairly attractive stranger’s text.

“i don’t know, he kinda went overboard,” you shrug and jennie’s hand reaches over yours, patting it once with what you assume is an understanding manner.

“sweetie, i get it,” she announces, “you feel exposed because he said the absolute truth and only the truth and now you’re projecting your embarrassment on him through disdain.”

silence follows her statement.

and staring.

on your part, that is.

“girl,” you blink once, eyebrows arched, “whatever you’re having - i want some.”

that warrants a bout of giggles from said girl before she scoops her last bite of ice cream and hook arms with you as you walk towards the trashcan to dump your empty paper bowls, “no but for real, i like jeongguk-”

“then you date him,” you announce, nodding in approval.

“i like how he brings this... this... fire out of you, you know?” she quizzes to which you shake your head in a ‘no, i don’t know’ kind of manner as she goes on, “and i already have namjoon so,” she sing songs as she starts to skip in the middle of the mall and since your arms are linked together, you end up taking larger steps to accommodate to hers before deciding that you can’t root your feet down to slow her down into a normal pace. so you join her, skipping to the exit where you wait for your uber.

“you guys made up?” the question comes out in a calm, poised manner once you’ve both slipped into the backseat of the uber - you’d like to believe you’re doing a pretty good job on trying to conceal your spiking disbelief and the need to whoop someone’s ass. that someone being a girl who just pledged an oath to choose herself first instead of some man who-

“i texted him and told him how i felt with him cancelling on our plans and when i didn’t get any reply, i turned off my phone and got into bed because i’m not gonna mope over someone who won’t appreciate me,” at that, you give her an approving nod, “but then he came knocking on my door at like 5 in the morning in yesterday’s suit because apparently he has a deadline to meet and he’s been bending over backward trying to finish it on time and he brought his laptop with him too and managed to submit on time after explaining everything. he said he tried calling multiple times but obviously it went to voice mail so... yeah we made up.”

“that’s...” you trail off, only to stare at your friend’s beaming face like she’s just had one of the best facials on earth, “wow, i... i don’t know what to say now that we know he’s not trash.”

“i know,” you feel her pat the back of your hand sympathetically, “and that’s what a man is,” and when she looks at you with eyes that have one goal in her mind, you know not to start listening because the facts are going to bruise your pride and hit the nail on the head more times than you’d-

“liking a boy has more downs than ups but i’m not too worried because you’re a self-loving bitch and i love that for you but kim taehyung is not it,” she says all that with a straight face.

“yeah,” you mumble, thumbs fiddling together as you turn your attention to them as if it’s the most magnifying thing in the world to find out that identical parts of your body could move on their own with just a thought.

“okay, but i swear, he’s so oblivious all the time-” the girl stops short of her lament, you can see her head tilting to peer at you at a slightly different angle as if to see traces of an impostor on you, “wait, what?”

“we got into a fight last night- i don’t know if it’s even a fight but you know how i go off in a tangent when i get like annoyed, right?” you steal a glance at her for half a second before going back to your thumbs, “so i kind of did that to him before the dude announced the cops were coming and we haven’t really talked to each other since then.”

before any of you could say anything else, the sound of a cough echoes in the air, warranting your attention to turn to the driver, a woman in her mid-thirties. you return her smile through the rear-view mirror, “if you don’t mind me saying this - i know you girls are smart as fuck, but you sound just as dumb as that guy - whoever he is because it’s completely normal to get mad at someone you’re crushing on and still have a crush on them but sounds to me like you’re thinking one fight is the end of the world for you.”

“sis, please, don’t encourage her,” jennie talk-whispers as she leans forward just the slightest bit and covers the side of her mouth with her hand.

“well, we’re not really friends,” you begin and jennie groans - you two went over this and agreed to disagree with each other’s wildly contrasting views about crushing on crushes that could crush you but the lady hasn’t heard it so you’re not going to stop lamenting over it, “and whatever i do, it’s like i’m teetering on a tight rope because one wrong move and he probably won’t talk to me ever again and i’m not like miserably crushing on him - like, whatever we are right now - it lets me see him every day and he has the cutest smile and the prettiest fingers- i just - it’s better than not talking to each other forever, you feel?”

“um, don’t i?” she rolls her eyes, as if coming from a place filled with oblivious boys and hopeless crushes.

her name is solar and she does uber as a part time while working 9 to 5 at a firm that she claims to pay better but still not enough for her to save up for her wedding on the side and she and her fiance knew each other since high school but she’s seen him date two girls and get his heartbroken by both before he actually noticed her, the friend that’s always been there for him through his heartbreaks.

coming from someone who isn’t jennie and her alarming obsession with breaking parts of bodies of people who hurt her loved ones, solar’s view is somewhat a mixture of you and your best friend’s which still bases on one simple fact: whatever you say to and about taehyung comes bouncing back at you like a ping pong ball because-

“you have a crush on him and he has a crush on jennie,” she surmises before looking over at the aforementioned girl, “and people with crushes act like idiots- by the way how do you feel- like how do you handle the guy’s advancements and still aren’t awkward with each other because i have never seen...”

when the car rolls to a stop in the parking lot of your faculty, she finally turns to the two of you, her bleached blonde hair framing her face in waves as the silence - on you and jennie’s part as you both share glances at the indicative joke opening - hangs in the air with a sort of tension you can feel.

might even bite back like you did with jeongguk but you’re more in control now.

“...two pretty best friends who are still best friends when there’s a guy that comes between them.”

“oh thank god,” jennie sighs, laughing and you’re nodding in agreement, “thanks for not-” and your best friend echoes, “yeah,” before you can even finish your sentence, “-saying that cliche joke or like for giving your own twist to it,” waving a dismissive hand, you address her initial worries, “and taehyung doesn’t-”

“he doesn’t-” jennie chimes in.

“-come between us.”

you both say at the same time.

“oh my god, that’s great, you know my best friend tried sleeping with my fiance behind my back once,” solar crinkles her nose, “wasn’t a good experience but anywho, i’m so glad to see two girls having each other’s back like you guys. makes me want to...”

it’s a few moments later that you finally hand her the money and murmur out appreciations for being such a great uber driver along with some ‘give me five stars! thanks!’ and ‘we will! have a nice one!’

you both part ways in the hallway when you’re supposed to go for marketing and she has to go for personnel management. jimin’s already reserved a seat for you, waving at you to catch your attention which he succeeds splendidly. by the start of the second year, you’ve opted to sit together in classes you have in common, though not as close as the front as you’d like, it’s better than sitting at the back where you can hear the buzz of flies - you mean people, talking.

“are you doing anything this friday night?” jimin asks amidst people zooming out of the class as if they don’t want to be there for longer than a minute after being dismissed.

that, or they have another class to get to on the other side of the campus.

“uh, just me or me and jennie ‘you’?” you dumbly question.

that warrants a chuckle from the boy, “you and jennie... unless you wanna come alone?”

a hum vibrates in your chest as you narrow your eyes at him, as though if you looked close enough, you can see through his skull and right into his thoughts.

but you can’t so that’s why you’re spouting out another question, “where exactly are you inviting us again?”

“so, like, you know i dance right?” he drops his gaze for the briefest moment before coming back up to lock it with yours, “it’s very lowkey - just something i do for fun, but we kind of have a dance off with other teams every month and this month’s round is this friday night so i was wondering if you wanna come?” then he quickly adds, “with jennie, of course.”

to be frank your weekends are as boring and dull as it gets - the party-busted incident was a rare exception - but you and jennie are quite content with it. you start having more to do and places to venture out to when taehyung and subsequently jimin join your group of two and made it a group of four but for the most part, if you’re not going anywhere, your weekend is usually spent with watching movies and burying yourself in work for the rest of it.

“bet,” your reply might have come a tad bit delayed judging from how his brows rise to the ceiling and his eyes go round as he chirps, “really?”

“yeah, just text me or jennie the location the day before,” you request as you both walk down the hallway.

“great- yeah, i’ll... i’ll text you the place,” jimin beams even as he bumps into someone behind him, turning around to lower his head and mumble out an oh sorry before turning back to you, “i got another class but i’ll text you- on thursday - not today, of course.”

and you wave back, shouting out an ‘okay bye!’

then he’s gone like the wind.

the days pass by like a breeze.

kim taehyung caught you in the middle of waiting for jennie’s class to end whilst also finishing up some work in the library. he knew your favorite spot and he knew where you’d usually be - but you had an inkling that you weren’t exactly the reason why he memorized these little things. he waved at you in greeting and you waved back. you would’ve pretended he didn’t exist after that and go back to your laptop if he didn’t hold up his phone screen with blank white space and blue and grey bubbles on the side.

so of course you picked up your phone, noticing that there were already three wiggling dots when you tapped on his name.

kth: hey

you met his gaze once, as if to affirm that he meant to send it. when he shota half, almost pleading smile, you typed out a reply.

you: hey what’s good

kth: nothing

kth: just waiting for a friend

seeing as there was not really a conversation going on where jennie wasn’t involved and how the boy’s blatant dismissal in addressing the big, giant elephant in the room, taehyung must’ve had seen the way your lips pursed into an irritated pout before his phone vibrated.

you: cool

and then you were back to your laptop, typing sentences out and backspacing because of its incoherent nature, or lack of quality or whatever reason that stopped you from doing your job before kim taehyung’s arrival.

then he started whispering “hey, uh, ____,” from across the table. upper body leaned to the front as if it’d help enunciate his words.

you took your sweet time taking out your airpods from each individual ear and placing them down next to your mac before finally arching a brow at the boy, “what?”

“hey,” he repeated, this time with a frozen mid-wave, “hi, how you doing?”

“great thanks,” there was a minimal effort on your part to disguise your ‘what even?’ expression on your face as you picked up your right airpod first - only to be stopped by the boy’s-

“i’m sorry.”

it’s clean and short but his face made up for conveying his genuinity.

“why are you saying sorry?” it didn’t mean you were going to let him off the hook easy.

“well, because...” he trailed off for the briefest moment but the unconcealable bop of his adam’s apple isn’t really helping him appear any more convincing, “i was being pushy...” he looked to you for an indication of him being on the right track to which you were not sure if he did get any but he still went on with his wits and his will - it took you everything not to gush over how cute he looks with his panic-blinking and pretty lips moving as if to say something but no words coming out, “...and i was generally being an annoying little shit.”

“and?” you pressed on, blinking once as if to paint a look of unbotheredness.

“...and...” he echoes, eyes darting from your phone to somewhere behind you and then something next to it but only silence fills the space between you and him.

“alright, i’m gonna be real with you,” leaning back, you cross your arms over your chest, “i know you talk to me when you need something and i don’t really care - well i do, but i just bottle it up until it one day burst out, you know what i’m saying? so yea, if you’re wondering if that night was me blowing up on you, it kinda was and it wasn’t because you were making small talks with me just to poke into my best friend’s business - well, it kinda is but like not in that way, you follow? what i mean is.. don’t let me catch you sneaking behind jennie’s back asking personal shits about her that you don’t think she’s going to disclose even if you straight up ask her - that’s sus, taehyung.”

by the end of it, he was staring at you like you had two horns and a tail swaying around behind you. but you concur, that may or may have not been your inner self coming to light - just a hypocrite criticizing someone for doing the things she would have done, if she wasn’t already doing it, if she was in his shoes.

and to be quite frank, taehyung’s shoe size is probably a few inches bigger than yours but if they had laces, you would’ve been able to put them on and tied them up to accommodate your ego.

so taehyung didn’t - couldn’t say anything in response to your second time going off into a tangent and because of what he did, at that. he stopped texting you altogether and only talked to jennie whenever you weren’t around and left before you got to them if he saw you coming his way - jennie’s actually.

either way, jennie wasn’t as elated as you thought she’d be once you told her that you called taehyung out on his bullshit.

“um, i’ve always wanted to tell him about me and namjoon so he’d give up - you were the one who didn’t let me,” she might or might not have said something along the lines of you making her “lead him on all because you wanted to an eye candy to look at every day.”

“what do you mean?” your forehead was creasing a thousand folds.

“not that i’m pointing fingers,” she went on, eyes glued to the pairs of indoor shoes in the corner of the room and anywhere but your eyes, “but i’m like, cool with or without him around but you sort of said ‘okay, then it’s cool if he comes with us right?’ and you were making puppy eyes and i couldn’t no to that-”

and so you were laughing dryly, “aha- wha- what so it’s my fault that he’s being a total wuss and won’t square up?”

“i didn’t say that,” jennie’s reply came a heartbeat later which meant yes, it was.

so now you’re not talking to your best friend and neither are you talking to the boy who’s crushing on her. which leaves you a lot of free time to finish up your work in time to hop into a bullet train and then an uber and get to the building where jimin’s dance off is held.

you’re in the middle of texting the boy a ‘sorry, might b late. i didn’t know there’d be a line 😭’ when a figure comes up to you from the corner of your eye.

fitted in black jeans and matching tucked in t that shows off his slender waist and beanie, the only thing that isn’t black is probably his white-yellow timberlands, “so you weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna leave me on read.”

“you know, it’s so cute that you think you’re worth the reply at all,” you blink, eyes going wide and jaw hanging loose from shock, “this... this... confidence - where do you get it? seriously, tell me because i have never seen someone with such immaculate self-absorbance.”

jeongguk’s head moves as he nods in admittance, hands buried in his pocket before he looks up at you. that familiar glint in his eyes is telling you that whatever he has up his sleeve, you’re not going to be able to refuse.

“you know, eugene over there and i are homies,” he nods towards the burly tall man at the front who’s mainly the reason there’s a line in the first place - one that no one seems to dare cut, “i could get you in faster.”

“oh my god, look what that self-absorbance’s got you believing,” you put one, sympathetic hand on his shoulder as your free hand goes to cover the spot on your chest where your heart is, “i’m so happy for you,” you glance over to the not-declining-anytime-soon line behind you, “but sometimes, even confidence can’t get you into invites-only events.”

to any other person, it must’ve looked like you and jeongguk are friends - friendly acquaintances hitting best buddies at the very least. but something in the way his grin curling sweetly on his lips and the curve of the half ringlet of his hair touching the corners of his onyx eyes, makes your toes curl inwardly and your stomach churn with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

and because of that, you know there won’t be any sort of friendship forming between you and jeongguk.

he leaves you with an amused smirk and a “see you inside,” and marches up to eugene, the two sharing an uncomplicated handshake before the man steps to the side and lets him in.

well.

it takes you another ten minutes of standing in line and assuring jimin that he doesn’t need to rush out and risk having his team go without him when their turn comes. which according to jimin, ‘isn’t anytime soon - they let the bigger teams go first’.

but then jimin knowing jimin, that probably meant soon enough.

when you’re finally on the front of the line, crumpled up ticket in hand, eugene gives you a once over and nods at his not-as-burly-but-just-as-scary-looking friend.

“follow me,” and with that, she struts in through the door but instead of going down the hallway like the ones before you did before they disappear from eyesight in the corner, she takes a sharp turn to the right until she stops in front of an elevator.

her deep violet hair brushes against her cheekbones as she nods at the empty box with mirrors all around.

yeesh, guess everyone expresses themselves with their bodies here.

the numbers constantly change from ground level to 1 to 2 and finally stops at the 3rd floor where the blare of the music seems to come from. and that’s when you see the black haired boy who has his forearms leaned against the railing as he grins at something on the bottom floor where the shouts and cheers seem to erupt from. but before you can make a sharp 180 to go back down where jimin said you’d only need to follow the hallway and take the turn around the corner like the people before you did, jeongguk looks up as if sensing the heat of your gaze drilling holes inside his head. with one hand raised, he beckons you over.

“your majesty,” you drop into a bow once you reach him, “this humble servant thanks you for bringing her here but,” pointing your thumb over your shoulder at the hallway you just came from you continue, “i think i’m on the wrong floor because all i can see here is flocks of hair - an oh, shiny scalp from that guy - arms flailing around. takes away the magic of dance, you feel?”

“so you’re here for jimin.” it doesn’t sound like a question - so it must not be. a ponderous hum vibrate from his chest as you shoot him an arched brow whilst your insides burst like fireworks at the way his darkened eyes traces down your body and back up after he’s done with what seems to be a scout’s assessment.

“no leather pants and no best friend or heartbreak boy hovering around like a lost puppy - let me guess, he did something that made you mad, the best friend backed him up and now you’re mad at both of them?” he raises his own brow, lips curling into an assured smirk, “oh and jimin here’s probably taking a neutral stance because it ‘doesn’t concern’ him.”

you don’t know if you want to run away or grab the neck of his shirt and smack your lips on his.

so you settle with handguns pointed in his face, “alright, catch you never.”

but before you can even take a step to where you came from, jeongguk’s laying out his card on the table, “you sure bout that? it’s bulleproof boys’ turn - it’s jimin’s teams name, in case you’re wondering and judging by who they’re going against, it might be their first and last performance for the night.”

“i knew that,” respectfully, you had no idea that the teams have specific names besides the alphabetical letters given to them upon registration.

jimin’s only mentioned dance match once and that he’s in team c that’ll go against team d.

so you stick around, watching from all the way on the third floor where the lest people are gathered, cheering out names of teams that are alien to your ears which seem to be the team jimin is going against. but the fact that jimin could dance with such precision and grace is magnifying enough. he’s mostly posed on either sides of the formation, switching from the front left to the furthest back line on the right side as the beat drops.

jimin’s name pours out of your mouth in cheers but it’s swallowed by the other cheers before it can even reach him. in the end, jimin’s team loses. they still go up to their opponent and share handshakes and sidehugs before moving away from the dance floor.

he’s not smiling nor is he frowning as he stands in the crowd after the prelims but his lips curl and eyes disappear into crescents when he sees you.

“hey!” his arms open up into a hug, only to stop halfway in hesitation but by then you’re already wrapping yours around his neck with a “you were so cool!”

and just like that, the awkwardness in the air dissipates.

“i didn’t see you in the crowd.”

“so what? you thought i left?” a light smack lands on his arm, “by the way, you didn’t tell me it was this intense - i can feel the tension from all the way...” you pause for the briefest moment, “...in the audience.”

“everyone here just likes to dance so it gets competitive at some point but at the end of the day, it’s important to have fun,” he shrugs, a shy smile plastered to his face.

“either way you did great,” you bump his elbow with yours, and he shifts his weight to his left foot.

“we lost but it was a fair match the bts people were too good,” a mixture of regret and contentedness crosses his face as he nods to himself, as if admitting the difference in skills.

“let’s get a drink later, i’m buying,” you propose and jimin looks like a kid who just received his favorite candy.

well, that was the plan for the rest of the night up until the winner was announced. then a boy no older than you and jimin came up to the latter, arms slung over his shoulders, “dude, beyond the scene just asked if we wanna join them at the afterparty. can you believe it?”

“dude, you capping - don’t fucking joke with men man, i was about to shit my pants-” jimin attempts to shove the guy away half-heartedly which does nothing as his friend - teammate, cuts him off.

“i’m not fucking joking, man, behind the scenes literally asked if we wanna chill with them!”

the two boys are basically shoving each other back and forth before they start slapping each other on the face once to wake the other up. whoever this behind the scenes guys, they seem like a pretty big deal if two grown adults are fanboying this hard about them.

only after they’re sporting the faintest shade of pink on their right cheeks, do they finally realize that they weren’t squeal-whispering by themselves. he introduces himself as kai - “jimin’s best friend and mentor.”

“he likes to say that because i got into dance because of him,” jimin adds, debunking the mentor myth.

you’re about to wave the two goodbye and call it a night since it’s pretty clear that the behind the scenes guys only invited them and not their friends.

“come with us,” kai announces as the three of you walk down the back entrance where it’s less crowded and meant for the participants to use, “baekhyun can’t make it so we’ll still be five people.”

“i really should go- it’s getting late and my place is in seoul-”

and so begin your war of apologies and ‘no, you’s.

“oh shit, i forgot.” jimin’s usually almond-shaped eyes turn round and wide, “you used the subway-”

“yeah, but i can still catch the last train home-” you try to assure.

“i’ll accompany you back-”

“no, no - you should go with them-”

“no, i made you come to watch-”

and it would have gone on until morning if you and jimin were left to argue on who should do what if kai didn’t clap his hands together and put an end to the long debate, “okay, okay, break it up.”

he looks between the blonde haired best friend and then to you, “jimin came with me so i’m gonna drive him back anyway and i could drop you off too after chilling with bts - it’s nothing you’re not used to, beers and games and shits, you know? plus it’ll be like, less than 20 people there - bts never invites other groups into their circle - who knows, maybe you’ll find your true way like jimin did,” he pats the aforementioned man on his shoulder whilst jimin rolls his eyes at the way best friends who’ve heard their best friend boast about an-untruth for the umpteenth time.

and because you basically made another friend and that means you’ll have at least 2 people to hang out with if the rest turns out not to be your kind of people - so you cave in, “okay, sure, why not?”

'why not’s are subjective - or so you’d like to think.

like when you’re not particularly into americano and prefer latte but wouldn’t say no to having the first if jennie mixed up your order and bought you your not-so-favored but also not-so-hated drink.

but jennie’s known you since she shoved you off the swings at five after you outran her only to get to the swings faster because only one was vacant and the other kid was already in the other one.

so she’d know your preferred drinks.

but in the event she suddenly has amnesia or anything and got you and americano, that’s when you’ll go, “why not?”

but that and finding out that jeongguk used to be part of bts until he hurt his during practice, having to have 2 major surgeries because of it, rendering him no longer able to dance so he’s only going to the dance offs to cheer for his friends which was how he met you at the entrance and now you’re handcuffed together (and yes, again) in the middle of the forest - are two disparate things altogether.

hoseok, the most outgoing and friendliest of the bunch, suggested for the ice breaking to be in a form of 2 beer bottles and a sort of rope or chain tying people from bts and the bulletproof people together to talk for five minutes. they only have 2 pairs of cuffs so the others that lack them have to make do with bandanas and you think a seokjin got harassed into taking off his shirt and using it as him and his designated partner’s pseudo handcuff.

yours and jeongguk’s are - you’re not sure if it’s a fortunate or unfortunate thing - real ones (you’re not sure if you want to know why and how seulgi easily pulls out a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs and a normal-looking one - out of the blue).

but you’re almost sure that you’re leaning on the side of the internal argument of this - this, right here - is why not.

“why didn’t you text me back?” jeongguk is in the middle of asking as you take a big chug of the alcoholic beverage.

"oh my god,” you let a pleased smile tug at your lips as you feel the buzz of the alcohol coursing through your system, “i was just gonna talk to you about that - jennie said i was being a ghosting b because you only said facts and i got like, offended without a reason but i agree that people can be wrong sometimes and that was her time... i just...” you shrug, “i just didn’t want to text you back so i didn’t,” you look at him with a new found familiarity, “anyways, how was your week?”

by the end of it, jeongguk’s nodding and poorly suppressing his smirk.

“well, let me start first,” you begin before he can even say anything, listing down the happenings in a chronological order which may or may have not confirmed his initial assumption on why you’re here alone “...i mean, was it my fault though? between you and me, i think jennie and i need to sit down and actually talk about accountabilities first, you know? but anyway, that’s how my week went! how about you, how was your week?”

to say that your turmoil of a week is anything close to a laugh-worthy joke, would be a lie but for some reason, trickles of laughter are escaping jeongguk’s lips and into the night air as he leans back, holding his stomach. he would’ve hit the ground if you’d poke him.

“wow,” you slowly nod, “that’s... that’s very... flattering that you think my somewhat a quarter life crisis is amusing,” a grin stretches across your face but your eyes drill holes into the boy’s skull, “maybe i should just quit uni altogether. that’d be... exciting, right? just... quit uni and live a life as a comedian because look at how much i’m cracking you up right now!”

and it goes on for another minute of jeongguk’s laughter filling the air as you threaten him to stop in the guise of encouragement besides the cracking of the branches as it gets swallowed up by the fire in the barrel not too far away from where everyone’s scattered.

“god,” when he’s finally reduced to chuckles and wiping invisible tears off the corner of his eyes, you’re about halfway done with your bottle.

“and he’s back,” you announce, “welcome back. can’t say i missed you though but glad that you’re back with us.”

but before jeongguk can get a word out about his own week which you’d asked, if only to be polite, hoseok is already summoning everyone to gather around the barrel as he raises a bottle in the air to - “new groupship and friends!”

or so you think he said.

you’re not too sure because you’re too busy demanding jeongguk to - “uncuff me right now, jeon - was that too pushy? let me try again,” you pause, clearing your throat, “can you please, please, please, uncuff me so i can go back to my friends and not have to stay here a minute longer?”

“don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company,” he offers you one of his self-assured smirks before addressing your concern, “i’m trying,” he says simply, free hand patting around the pocket on the side of his jeans before groping his own ass.

“um, maybe try harder?” you suggest, smiling sweetly but it downturns into a frown not even a minute later when he declares, “i can’t find it.”

“you... can’t find it?” you echo his words.

“it’s not on me,” he states.

“well, did seulgi give it to you at all or...” you trail off only to be met by a devious smirk which doesn’t exactly help his case.

“guess you’re stuck with me,” he shrugs ever so easily.

“oh, hell nah,” and that’s when you latch onto to smirking boy’s body - on your hands at least, and since his left hand and your right hand are cuffed together, it doesn’t allow much room for your physical inspection which is how using your only free hand to get to the side of his pocket that’s farthest from you - may appear suspicious to others.

you only notice that you’re fully facing jeongguk and having your back turned to everyone else when hoseok’s voice cuts through the air, “yo hold up, hold up, hold up - this is bonfire and chill, not netflix and chill.”

your jaws hurt from hanging a bit too low as you meet each and everyone’s eyes, their giggling and laughing already telling enough of what the majority thinks - everyone except jimin, that is.

but you’re a bit too preoccupied with trying to clear the supposed air of you and jeongguk getting it on in the middle of the forest with both your friends and his around, “aha,” you force out, “i know this,” free hand waving between the chain linking your wrists and the open air which isn’t helping your case because jeongguk’s poor attempt at subduing his smirk is well, poor, “might look sus to you but it isn’t - jeongguk lost the key and if someone could help us find it, it’d-”

“oh, don’t worry, i have a spare at home,” seulgi chirps up, hand waving her illuminated phone, “i’ll text my girlfriend to bring it here.”

well, that explains the fluffy cuffs.

“sick,” jeongguk nods over to the girl to which she holds up an ‘okay’ sign and a meaningful smile to him which shouldn’t be ominous but is.

so you fix him a stare when hoseok goes to say something along the line of ‘great’ and ‘lifesaver’ to seulgi.

which the boy only asks back with a “what?”

“i have something to say but i’m not gonna so i’m just gonna keep quiet but just know that i’m watching you,” but the warning doesn’t exactly bring out the intimidating aspect that you hoped for.

“watch all you want, i’m yours for tonight,” the velvety sound of his chuckles is awfully distracting because you don’t even notice the chain clinking until his fingers interlock yours before he brings them up in the air - as if to emphasize on the technicality of his titillating claim.

the night goes on with bottles of beers scattering over the ground, faint smoke dissipating into the air as the scent of something sweet and fruity wafts around whilst the juul gets passed around.

once in a while someone’s laugh echoes between the gaps of the trees and into the night, amidst the sound of woodland creatures. you’ve downed one and a half bottle of henny whilst jeongguk doesn’t seem to have gone past even half of his first bottle. but he’s chuckling and laughing at something someone said which, for the most part, is funny or warrant a jaw-dropping, pin-drop-silence kind of reaction just like now as seulgi confesses to-

“never have i ever slept with my mom’s boyfriend at 19.”

“and that’s on mommy issues,” you hold up a beer in a ‘cheers’ manner at her whilst she mimics your action before you both tilt your head up and take a chug out of your individual beers at the same time.

“what about you?” jeongguk asks and for a moment, you forget that there are people around because jeongguk’s eyes look like someone reached up the sky and handpicked two stars each for his irises and trap them in there like a class case.

but you’d like to believe it’s the alcohol doing its rightful work in your system because you’re back on the ground with an unrelenting itch on your ankle where it’s brushing against the blades of grass.

“yea, what’s your never-have-i-ever mommy issues edition?” kai speaks up.

“nah, it’s wack,” you wave a dismissive hand but end up agreeing to spill the beans when a bout of protest spreads across your ever so faithful audience.

“okay, okay, never have i ever fucked my biological mom’s husband who isn’t my dad,” you say which earns a bout of cheers and ‘that’s messed up’s before seokjin claps his hands together.

“never have i ever...” he pauses, grinning as an added suspense before he goes on, “fucked my brother’s boyfriend.”

the game doesn’t last for long when everyone collectively agree to take the atmosphere up a notch and play strip truth or dare. but before your turn came, seulgi announces her girlfriend’s arrival concurrently with her having to leave for the night because she’s her ride home. and because you and jeongguk are both of the same mind that you’re the ones that should be following after her to get yourselves uncuffed, you do just that.

yeri is a sweetheart and matches seulgi’s playful yet reserved nature. they take the cuffs with them and seulgi waves you two goodbye with the same, meaningful smile directed to jeongguk - but if that’s not enough, the ‘good luck’ thumbs up is a screaming red button for you.

but before you can even call him out for his possible hand in convincing his dance friends to invite jimin’s and consequently you to the forest after the match - he beats you to it.

“you okay?” this time, his features are lacking the smirk.

“yea, why wouldn’t i be?” you say, hopping on the rail of the train track that’ll lead to the spot where the others are - so far, you’re doing a good job not falling to your demise.

“i don’t know,” the scraping sound of his soul kicking against the pebbly ground fills the air as he walks next to you, hands in his pocket, “you’ve been pretty quiet after that thing about your mom.”

“you think what i did was messed up?” you inquire, resisting the urge to steal a glance at him to see what kind of emotion he’s making - whether it’s contorted with disgust or whether his nose is crinkling at an attempt to appear unbothered or whether there really isn’t any judgments being passed and he’s just downcasting his eyes because he’s looking out for possible sharp objects protruding from the ground.

“everyone’s a little messed up,” his shoulderline shakes as he shrugs, “it’s the why behind it that counts.”

“nah,” your hair tickles your face as you shake your head in blatant refutation, “i didn’t have a reason.”

and just when you expect a disgusted scoff to erupt from jeongguk’s pink lips... it doesn’t.

“that works too.”

silence follows his words for the longest moment with you trying placing one foot in front of the other, pretending like teetering on that tightrope you’re stuck on with kim taehyung at the end of it, not even waiting for you but just happen to be there.

so you break the silence, “i finally found her last year - flew all the way to jeju because my biological aunt saw my the post i put up on facebook in a last ditch attempt before i hire a private investigator like my dads suggested. she set us up to meet,” the picture of a woman who’s so similar yet dissimilar to you flashes at the back of your head, a biscoff cheesecake slice lying untouched on the table and someone screaming at the top of their lungs right in front of your ears, “my biological mom didn’t know anything about it, flipped out and told me to never bother her again so i looked up where her husband worked and slept with him and sent the video to her.”

jeongguk doesn’t say anything, only nodding in your periphery before a soothing kind of silence lapses between you.

“what’s your story?” you ask a moment later.

“hm?” he glances at you, the moonlight shining over that smirk that you’ve come to miss in the course of the five minutes it went missing, skin painted a creamy white.

“if you don’t wanna tell, that’s fine too but like, you basically tore down my walls and i’m naked as hell - figuratively -” you add as soon as his eyes light up, “right now.”

but then he tries to bargain, “promise you’ll text me back and i’ll tell.”

and you try to teeter in the grey area between words and its meanings, “alright, promise... i won’t leave you on read.”

“nah, you gotta promise to text back,” his half curls sway as he shakes his head - your end of the bargain not sufficiently satisfying.

it’s a few moments after your surrendering, “you know what? keep your skeletons in your closet - i’m good,” that he finally says something.

“i used to do tracks, lucked out with a sports scholarship but by freshman year in college, realized i didn’t even like tracks and dropped out...”

jeongguk’s parents weren’t happy about it - didn’t exactly welcome him when he came back with a suitcase and a letter from his unversity claiming the outstanding balance of his first two semesters. but he wasn’t happy at home either.

so he packed his bags one more time and took the first train to seoul where he worked part time at a restaurant and occasionally at the dance off’s, before he found the beyond the scene people and subsequently found dance. that was amidst of a developer of the game he was playing approaching him through the game’s chat server and offering him a job to test out their games with the condition that he gets a degree in computer science which they paid for on the company’s scholarship fund.

and so it was obvious that jeon jeongguk, wherever he chooses to go and stop at, blooms like a wildflower that strives in any condition thrown in his face whether it be a storm, a hurricane or a sunny weather that barely allows any rain to cover the soil he’s rooted in.

and because he’s true to himself, it isn’t as unbelievable, when almost everyone - from every layer of backgrounds, flock around him like honeybees in spring - allured, magnified and bewitched by jeon jeongguk that makes him... well, him.

to say you understand him a little bit better may be an overstatement but maybe you’re less suspicious of his keen intuition and uncanny prognosis of what happened in your relationships, both with your friend and your not-so-friendly crush.

jeongguk jests that his leg “doesn’t work like it used to but-” - he’s been to places. seen people.

“so why are you obsessed with me?” you question into the night in a light hearted joke, “i mean, i can possibly see why because well, i’m... me and i’m amazing but you know, it’s not healthy to be this obsessed with people.”

his chuckles sounds like wind chimes on a spring day, "besides the fact that i was too busy being a tracks nerd for most of my life so i have zero flirting skills and decided to make all the calls that seem to irritate the one person i want to get to know? it’s because you looked like you were head over heels with the guy you were putting in place but still managed to not make it personal.”

it takes a moment for you to digest what he just said, and even then, you’re nodding in complete disagreement as you blurt out, “pretty sure some parts were personal,” and you turn to him with a smile stretched over your face, “but glad that you don’t think i’m the impostor.”

so you stop twenty steps away from where you can see the fire in the barrel and hoshi, one of the guys from bulletproof boys, standing in boxers and shouting an oath before gulping down a bottle of henny at an alarming rate.

“everyone’s a little sus now and then,” he refutes, nose crinkling as a grin spread across his moon-kissed features as he offers you his hand and you take it, hopping off your tightrope journey and onto grounding earth.

when morning comes, you wake up to the familiar but not-very-welcomed sound of cars honking from outside your window and the light piercing through your eyelids, so much so, you surrender to the start of the day. arms stretched over your head and a guttural sound vibrating within your chest as a sign of protest before your vision finally gets used to the bright sunny rays.

and that’s when you freeze. arms stretched and all.

“after all this, you can’t say no to a date with me,” jeon jeongguk is lying right next to you, in your one-person bed which you could never imagine would fit more than your need-for-maximum-space self when you sleep but there he is, in yesterday’s clothes, hugging your light pink alpaca plushie on his stomach whilst his elbow which you don’t notice before is poking into your rib.

the events of last night untangle in a web of hazed memory coming to high definition as each passing second pass by.

you and jimin live on the opposite ends of the city which made you reluctant in having kai drive you back at all, so jeongguk offered to split the uber bills with you because apparently, “oh, hey, we live in the same area!”

which later turned out you didn’t and it would’ve made more sense for him to hitch a ride with kai and jimin. but you didn’t even need to ask why he did what he did.

because by the time you and jeongguk returned, it’d been a set-in-stones assumption that you were off making out somewhere under a tree and everyone cheered you and him for it upon your return.

well, except jimin.

so you pulled jeongguk to the side once the attention was directed to hoseok whose dare was to lick the grass he was stepping on.

“is that thing about jimin liking me true because he’s been like, avoiding my eyes the whole night and now he’s acting like i don’t exist and i’m pretty concerned because his friend is my ride home,” you whispered underneath your beath.

jeongguk threw one, confirming glance at the aforementioned man before nodding casually, “he’s jealous as fuck because he thinks we did the do - cross my heart and hope to die.”

so you ended up offering jeongguk to sleep in your bed because it was already late and it felt like a waste to spend another thirty bucks to go back to a place where nobody was waiting for him anyway.

you were so beat, you’d fallen asleep as soon as jeongguk pulled your protesting self off the futon-splayed floor and held you captive in your own bed.

“you know what? i might as well,” you say, legs thrown off the bed and stretching some more before looking down at the smiling, plushie-holding, grown ass person in your bed, “now we need to figure out how to sneak you out because this is a girls-only dorm and if they found out i have a guy over, i might get expelled.”

but before you can even start brainstorming the best possible route for jeongguk to sneak out without being detected, an obnoxious rapping reverberates against your door. the look of pure horror settling in as jeongguk’s smile melts into a wide-eyed, panicked face would have been adorable if you’re not in the middle of shoving him into your “quick, in the closest!” which he needs to hunch his shoulders to become as small as possible before you can close it whilst you yelp out a “just a minute!”

by the time you manage to school a smile on your face, jennie’s is already sprinkled with a dust of red as her brows come together, judging your choice of outfit and the events that went down last night.

“hey, girl,” you drag out the first word in idle panic, body leaning against the doorframe a little too defensively, “what’s...” you can’t even find the right words as you tap your fingers against the doorframe before finally saying, “what’s good?”

but one questioning look from her and you’re stepping out of the way, left to stand at attention like a cadet in the presence of the general whilst said general struts into your room and scans it once before turning to you.

“’what’s good?’” jennie echoes and you know from the way her head does the slightest of movements according to her enunciation, “imagine seeing your best friend on some mutual friend’s snapchat story which mind you, said mutual friend isn’t anywhere close to either of you and the time in the snap says a big whooping 4:03 am while you’re here feeling bad for hurting her feelings with your words words. but does she feel bad? well, it doesn’t flipping look like she even gave any thoughts about you, did it?”

and that’s when the closet decides that it’s had enough of storing a full grown human in its belly and slowly, but surely swings the door open with thunderous creak in the midst of the calm before the storm. and lo and behold, a jeon jeongguk, still hugging your alpaca tightly, keeping his eyes closed as if it’ll make him invisible before he gradually screws one eye open to the sight of a raging but confused jennie kim and a mortified you turning to said girl.

so much for keeping skeletons in closets.

“i-i can explain.”

it turns out all it takes for jennie’s anger to subside is for her to find a boy in your room. namely the boy she’s been blatantly shipping you with even though you barely knew each other then.

“i have a wig in my room,” she suggests after you’ve exhausted all options - jeongguk can’t climb through the window and jump down from the second floor.

“well, he can but there’s no guarantee he’ll be able to leave without one of his limbs intact,” you’d added, shrugging.

he’s sitting crossed leg on your bed, alpaca in his lap and looking cute as hell as his eyes go round at the mention of a wig and five minutes prior, crossdressing. the plan is for you and jennie will walk him out once he’s all dresed up like you’re just three - well, one is kind of buffed up but still pretty - best friends who had a girls’ night and crashed in your room.

he whistles lowly, head lulling to the side as he stares at the door before turning to you with a playful smile, “i’ve always wanted to wear a skirt.”

and so it goes, jennie kim’s squealing and making a short trip to her room and returning with a bag full of wig, stretchable sweaters and lycra skirts whilst she scours through your closet for clothes that you have but don’t even remember. the oversized sweater that’s a few more inches too big for you wraps around his body tightly and the skirt is a tad bit too short for him, going down to a few inches above the knee. but the head turner is the way the curly brown wig gracefully frames his face and softens his jawline, giving an illusion of how his half-ringlet would have looked if he grew them out.

you apply the soft pink lipgloss on his already rosy lips as a joke in a guise of a final touch, heart skipping as his lips curl whilst he gazes at you the whole time you’re putting on the glimmering liquid.

“okay, i feel bad,” you confess, shoulder line falling, “i thought you’d hate the lipgloss and i was going say it’s important to make the look work if you said no but you’re not saying no and you’re looking at me like you’d trust me with your life...” a sigh rolls off your lips at the end of it.

“you feel bad?” he echoes, glossed lips looking kissable as hell - it doesn’t even matter that he’s smirking like it was part of his plan all along to manipulate your conscience into confessing your ulterior motive.

so you nod.

“good,” he states simply.

“you saying good like you’re satisfied that you managed to pick on my guilty conscience is making me feel less guilty,” you narrow your eyes, not even bothering to hide the smile creeping on your lips.

“oh my god, my ship is sailing!” jennie’s whispered squeal cuts through the air before she reverts to her deadpanned self, “okay but seriously, if you’re done sprinkling sugar cubes all over the place, i think we should get jeongguk out before miss snitchery sonyeon next door sniffs the man in jeongguk and snitch on us.”

sonyeon has been known for reporting 2 boy-sneaking activities that went on last year which would have been justified if the girls that brought the boys into their room was doing questionable things and loudly at that but the first incident was with a late enrolled newbie that just moved in and didn’t know that boys weren’t allowed inside and though the other girl did sneak her boyfriend in, it was only because he was bleeding profusely and needed first aid treatment which she stored in her room.

you’re just about a few feet away from the double doors when a familiar but disembodied voice drums in your ears.

“you three, stop right there.”

you think your heart stops working for the briefest moment as time freezes and you’re craning your head to look at jennie whose fear-stricken face mimics yours and then jeongguk whom you don’t expect to wear such ceases in his forehead.

so you do the one thing that you think of-

“run.” you whisper.

all of a sudden, the wind is in your face and a few heads turn your way - but you doubt that it has more to do with how unfairly gorgeous jeongguk looks than the fact that the ra is on your tail, her pitched demands for ‘someone stop them!’ whilst. you’re not sure if someone did try to chase after you or if the adrenaline pumping in your system is what helps you sprint faster than a cheetah but when you finally slow down, almost skidding to a stop on the grass somewhere on campus grounds instead of the dormitory area - it’s because jennie is dramatically breathing through her mouth and found herself a bench to put on an act of dying whale.

“you guys... go on... leave me be...” she croaks out in between breaths, hand reaching out to the air.

“dude, tell me if you’re gonna stop so we can stop and get caught together,” you guff, plopping down, your state no better than jennie’s while jeongguk shakes his head at the two of you.

not even a beat of sweat or heaved breathing coming from him - not to mention that-

“how are you the fastest-” you suck in a much needed breath, “-when your leg doesn’t work as good anymore?”

“yea, didn’t say i can’t run,” he grins.

“jen, let’s go,” you say, tapping the dying whale on her shoulder as she starts wailing words of saddened goodbyes.

“forsake me! save yourselves!” she wheezes, staring into nothingness before waving a dismissive hand, “no for real, i don’t think they’re gonna chase us all the way here. you guys go, i have a date anyway, i’ll text kim,” it’s the name you coined for namjoon whenever you talk about him in public, “to pick me up here.”

a year ago, you would have called her a brave fool for having her boyfriend slash professor that’s teaching at the same university - pick her up in plain sight. but once you saw the unfamiliar ferrari roll to a stop in front of the dorms with tinted black windows, you understand why they can be as free and uncaring as they are.

“you sure? what if they saw you here?” you question, needles of doubt still deeply pierced into your racing heart.

but when she looks at you with arched brows and a familiar couldn’t-care-less attitude, you know nothing you say can change her mind which helps ease the knots in your stomach by a lot.

so you cave in, waving her goodbye - but not before the scarring ‘we still need to talk though’ reminder - and going back to the tall, brown haired person who’s holding his left hand midair and wiggling his fingers about in what you think is a parodic depiction of how girls wave at each other while mouthing a nasally, higher-pitched “thank you so much for helping us.”

one minute into the walk, you stop in front of the cafe you’re used to having lunch at with your group of 4 - if there’s even any group left after this, “so this kim guy - he’s way older isn’t he?”

“if you’re all knowing, you wouldn’t end that sentence with a question,” you assert, “so i’m not gonna say anything.”

“that’s a yes then,” he nods.

“i think we lost them,” you say, a tad too late but pretend to look around anyway like you’re not 200% sure of that fact.

to any outsiders, you’ll probably look like two girls standing three feet apart from each other, looking out in a distance.

“nice,” jeongguk nods, joining in your scouting party before he squints his eyes at something in the most casual manner before suggesting, “so... you wanna go on a date?”

“you think we lost them?” you whisper under your breath, worry filling your chest as you throw your gaze over somewhere at the end of the alleyway where flashes of red and blue lights passed by.

but before the black cladded boy can say anything, his lips smack together as he and you both press yourselves flat to the wall as the sound of radio static bounces into the narrow space you’ve found yourselves in. six months after your first date, which involves a crossdressing jeongguk and a day at a park that had you returning to the dorm with a giant teddy bear and a strip of photo you took from the booth comprising the multiple personalities embodied in one person from sassy to stare-into-the camera-intimidating face to him looking down and shyly peeking through his pushed back curls - you’ve gone on multiple other dates.

none of which can be considered normal because you’ll always end up in a sticky situation like you are now.

on your second month, you found out that jeon jeongguk not only has a stable income for literally playing games while trying to balance out his education but he also paints and draws.

on your third month, you go on your first mural-painting-in-the-middle-of-the-night-dressed-as-robbers date to which ended pretty well with the two of you getting hungry and having ramen at a 24 hour convenience store. so the mural painting becomes a monthly routine.

jimin finds out about it somewhere down the line and broke out into the most heartwarming smile while teasing you about how “the singles lost another one,” as he shook his head in dismay. but things went back to normal for the most parts. taehyung talks to you more now. he apologized for having only treated you like someone useful to him when he needed something and found that you have more in common than you think.

like how you’re decently informed about the greatest artists of all time - all because jeongguk was telling you about them whilst you chill at his place on days you don’t feel like going out but still want to spend time together. jeongguk, later found out that his supply of artistic information was what led to you and taehyung’s improving friendship and offers to become your spokesperson by having you invite taehyung to a cafe so he can pour his abundance of knowledge in the fine arts of painting - “since he’s so interested in van gogh, you know what i mean?”

he even finished it with a tilt of his head and an sassy ‘ugh.”

“i think we gotta run,” jeongguk’s declarations doesn’t have you arching your eyebrows and looking at him in an ‘are you for real?’ kind of manner.

it could be because you’re so used to running from law enforcement now.

or maybe because jeongguk showed you the world through his eyes. doesn’t mean it’s any less terrifying - the thought of being caught and shoved behind the bars whilst they included it in your records. but hey, at least, you’re no strangers to handcuffs.

“on one,” you say and he nods, hand squeezing yours as if saying i’ll never let them get you.

“three,” you begin, eyes fixed on the stars in jeongguk’s gaze, “two,” jeongguk breathes in deeply, “one.”

run.

note. i hope you guys enjoyed reading!! and if you want anything similar to this kind of style, i have one more college au. the second part of that one is my pinned post which also has a link to the first part. if you’re curious why i’m not gonna link or name it is because i’m convinced that tumblr literally makes anything that’s linked or mentioned it blocked for some reason idk.

but anyways, thank you for reading!!

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