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l0stglitch · 2 months ago

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Platonic yandere lost boys headcannons

Notes- This was supposed to be general headcannons but then I started leaning into the darker side of the dynamics more, so now it’s more focused on the relationships between reader and the boys.

Warnings- Emotional manipulation, Psychosis, Non consensual drug use, Yandere behaviour, Murder

Dwayne

• You mean the absolute world to Dwayne.

• Seriously- every waking thought is spent on you. You’re like a drug that he can’t function without.

• Sometimes the others joke that he has separation anxiety (he 100% does).

• He loves listening to you speak. Often you’ll both lie down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You’ll tell him about your day through the rose-tinted lenses of childhood, and he’ll listen. He listens with an interest that you have never been regarded with before. It makes you feel special.

• The two of you go down to the skatepark together every now and again and your dad teaches you how to skate.

• You’d never tell the others, but those are your favourite nights. When it’s just you and Dwayne out at night practicing tricks under the solitary streetlight.

• It’s usually empty, but when there is anyone else there Dwayne warns you of how dangerous they could be.

• He doesn’t mean to scare you, but sometimes the only way you’ll follow the rules is by telling you every other man out there is out to get you.

• His warnings made you paranoid and untrusting of everyone for a while.

• It eventually got so bad that you had a psychotic episode- locking yourself in your room for days because you believed that your fathers wanted to harm you.

• Eventually they broke down your door to find you starving and severely dehydrated, having spent days completely devoid of food and water.

• You were too weak to even fight back when they scooped you up and carried you out your room.

• Dwayne was in hysterics.

• He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the week, and made sure to hand feed you all your meals.

• You protested, but he was relentless.

• He almost made you feel like it was your fault. Acting so hurt that you would take such little care for yourself. Do you really hate them that much? Why don’t you trust them after everything they’ve done for you?

• Days later, you found yourself crying in his arms, begging for forgiveness. Through desperate sobs you sputtered out apology after apology, clinging to his leather jacket.

• Seeing you so needy for him- so desperate for his love almost made it all worth it.

• He just ran his fingers through your hair like you were a scared animal, trying to get you to calm down.

• That’s how disputes between you and your father almost always end. With you begging for his forgiveness for something you know deep down wasn’t your fault.

• After your breakdowns, you often sit alone in your room wondering how you let the same thing happen every time. You’ve always had a soft spot for Dwayne, but sometimes you wonder if his powers have more uses than you thought.

• All those times you’ve awoken from a horrifyingly realistic nightmare, or felt a piercing sense of dread at the thought of sneaking out, a tiny fear itches in the back of your brain.

• Are your thoughts actually yours?

Marko

• Marko 100% plays with you the most.

• He’s just naturally more energetic than the others (which often leads him to getting into fights).

• But when he’s not scrapping with surf nazis, he spends the rest of his time practically worshipping you.

• Sometimes when it’s just the two of you, you’ll stop by a playground to play for a bit.

• He’d never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he gets jealous seeing you play with the kids there.

• I feel like Marko is a very creative person (I mean cmon look at his jacket). One of my personal hcs is that he painted the leopard on Dwayne’s jacket.

• He’d definitely buy (or steal) a jacket for you just so he can customise it. He also sees it as a way of showing that you belong to them.

• You’d sit next to him on the couch, sketching out every little detail you want whilst he listens, hanging onto your every word.

• Despite his need to show everyone you are theirs, he also genuinely loves making things for you.

• He made a bracelet for you to match the one Dwayne stole when you first met.

• Out of everyone he’s the most possessive.

• Sometimes, depending on his mood, he’ll ban you from speaking to anyone other than them (even Max). Other times he’ll outright stop you from going to the boardwalk with them. He’d stay with you in the cave whilst the other three go out to hunt.

• It worked when you were younger and more obedient, however during your teen years you grew to be a lot more rebellious.

• Marko absolutely HATES the thought of you growing up. He doesn’t know what kind of a person you’ll be in the future, and that scares him.

• That and the fact that he knows you’ll inevitably want to start dating.

• He’s kind of in denial about the whole growing up thing.

• Unfortunately when you do become a teenager he literally can’t cope. He refuses to believe you are able to take care of yourself and will baby you.

• On multiple occasions you have lashed out at him for the way he treats you, sick of how he refuses to accept the fact that you have a functional brain and can think for yourself.

• Unfortunately Marko has a particularly short temper. He has, on multiple occasions, accidentally shoved you into a cabinet in the heat of an argument, and left you with dark, angry bruises.

• And then comes the guilt tripping. Sometimes you’d wonder if he secretly likes it when you get hurt because of how happy he always looks when he gets to take care of you.

• You’re father’s mood can switch up in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking on eggshells around him, afraid that the slightest mistake will set him off.

• Usually Dwayne or Paul are around to tell him to chill out, but when you’re alone you just have to play along with his delusions of you still being his little girl to avoid conflict.

• It’s hard though, especially when he suddenly brings up a new rule to ‘keep you safe’. It’s practically impossible to keep Marko happy, and with every new rule, you know it’s only a matter of time until you break it (intentionally or not).

• He would never admit it, even to himself, but part of him secretly enjoys it when you break the rules. He likes hearing your heart pounding loudly from your chest, betraying the unbothered scowl on your face.

• It reminds him that no matter how grown up you look on the outside, you’ll always just be that timid little girl they found by the carousel. Helpless and in need of her fathers.

Paul

• He doesn’t mean to be, but Paul is definitely the dad that lets you get away with anything.

• Poor guy doesn’t really know how to act around kids, so he ends up either being a bit awkward around you or just treating you like a mini adult.

• As a result, you don’t really fear him as much as you do the others, but you also don’t see him as reliable as they are.

• You know Dwayne will always be there for you. Paul though? Half the time he’s too high to even tell you what day of the week it is.

• He feels guilty about it. Really guilty. He loves you just as much as the others do, but he just doesn’t know how to show it, so he lets you get away with things.

• Oh- you want a chocolate bar for breakfast? Sure, so long as you don’t tell Dwayne.

• You wanna try his cigarette? Ok, but make sure David doesn’t find out.

• At first it’s great. You love getting to hang out with Paul because of the little secrets you share. He gets high and you get to do what you want.

• It isn’t until you start to grow up, and he begins to enjoy your company more that his behaviour starts changing.

• Out of everyone, Paul (ironically) knows the most of your secrets.

• He’s just so much easier to talk to than the others- and whilst he doesn’t always give you particularly good advice on how to deal with certain situations, you can appreciate him for listening.

• Your trust in him backfires though, as he realises he can use your secrets against you.

• He literally blackmails you into spending more time with him. You don’t wanna hang out? That’s fine- but be prepared to have a stern telling off from David after Paul found a bag of weed under your bed.

• You picked up most of your bad habits from your father. Getting black out drunk and stealing cigarettes with your small group of friends, for example.

• Compared to the others, he isn’t very controlling in terms of rules. He knows that telling you what to do directly will only make you rebel, so instead he takes a slightly different approach.

• He drugs you.

• It took years for you to finally realise why you would sometimes sleep for such long amounts of time, despite not feeling tired beforehand.

• Eventually you connected the dots, and came to the sickening realisation that he would put crushed sleeping pills in your food every time you mentioned wanting to go out with your friends.

• After confronting your fathers about it, you refused to eat any food they had prepared for you. This lasted a while, until you ran out of money and were no longer able to afford cheap takeaways.

• It becomes a lot harder for Paul to drug you after that, however every now and again he manages to slip you a sedative.

• You absolutely hate it.

• You hate feeling completely helpless. Mind dull and emotions muffled by the effects of the drug. Even your body feels heavy, and you find that you only have enough energy to lay in Paul’s embrace, waiting to fall asleep.

David

• Ok let’s be real David is definitely the most distant father out everyone.

• After all, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’s scared of completely fucking up as a dad).

• He prefers spending time with you inside the cave rather than going out to the boardwalk.

• He uses excuses similar to Dwayne- telling you how dangerous it is, but unlike Dwayne he doesn’t actually believe what he’s telling you.

• David knows that it’s very unlikely that anything will happen to you. You’re hardly ever by yourself, so the chances of someone actually managing to hurt you are slim- especially with four overprotective vampire fathers lurking nearby.

• The real reason is that it makes him feel less in control. He can’t decide who you’re friends with, or who talks to you when you do occasionally manage to sneak away from them.

• Your biological family is gone. But who’s to say there isn’t someone out there looking for you still? David can’t help the everlasting paranoia from seeping into his every thought.

• So for peace of mind, he sets rules and curfews. Anything that will ease his worries.

• Practically every minute of your life is dictated by David. He thrives off of controlling you.

• Each and every rule and punishment goes through him first. He’s essentially the backbone of the pack.

• You resent him for it. You hate the way he encourages the others, and how he speaks down at you so condescendingly.

• Your relationship wasn’t always so strained though.

• As a kid you completely idolised David. His hair, his bike, his music. You were like his shadow. Constantly trailing behind him, grasping onto his signature trench coat.

• He loved every minute of it. Your father would spoil you. He’d steal little gifts at every opportunity, and buy you posters and t shirts of all the bands he had gotten you into.

• Unfortunately, as you got older you made friends outside the pack. You developed new interests, and David felt threatened.

• After all, you’re supposed to their little girl. You were supposed to grow up and stay with your fathers- your pack. Not branch out and meet new people.

• So in response, David killed one of your friends.

• One of the boys in your group who he thought you were becoming dangerously close to.

• Of course, you didn’t know David was the reason he had gone missing, so when you broke down in tears, feeling terrified for your friend, David was there to hold you.

• The way he gently rubbed your back and soothingly whispered into your ear almost made you forget about the disappearance of one of your closest friends.

• That brief moment of bliss bringing you back to your childhood as you sought comfort in your father’s tender embrace.

• David could only pray that you would remain ignorant to the truth about your dearly departed friend.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife (lmk if anyone else wants to be added)

#the lost boys 1987 #poly!lost boys x reader #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #platonic #yandere #the lost boys x child!reader #yandere lost boys #platonic yandere

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4pfsukuna · 7 months ago

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What about sukuna trying to make reader jealous but readers not fucking with it and gets mad instead or something🤔

Jealous? My facecard dont decline!

Heres something for Heian era because i wasnt sure what time period you wanted but if you submit this request again I’m more than happy to do a modern day plus smut if you’d like💖 i had so much fun with this!

Waking up in a full nelson at the sound of “wake your stupid ass up” is the last thing Sukuna expects…. Like ever. The grip has him ready to pass back out and the only thing keeping him awake is the fact THRILL that it's you. Now you may be wondering:

“what did he do to make you so mad?”

Discussing fabrics with the seamstress was taking longer than it was supposed to but you didn't mind. not only were you the it girl and material girl of the land you were Sukunas girlfriend meaning you could have anything you want. New wardrobe? Yours. Blood of your enemies? You could have their blood and their enemies blood.

It seemed the only thing you couldn't have was alone time to be a baddie. As the seamstress opened up the jewelry box revealing 3 new sets of gold hoop earrings, 5 gold bracelets, an assortment of anklets and necklaces to match it with the different silk fabrics you grin happily when all of a sudden you hear this agitating sound.

“You’ve been at it for hours with this shit” Sukuna growls, walking in for the fourth time scaring the other woman and finally pissing you off. She doesn’t do her best work when she's terrified because her hands begin to shake.

“Would you fuck off” you hiss at your boyfriend completely annoyed at his pestering antics and the way he just cant take no for an answer. And it wasn’t even that you told him no to anything, it was more so that you just wanted to indulge in yourself, it takes time to be a bad bitch.

He was equally annoyed with you as well, truth be told for several reasons. He had no idea what kind of sorcery you’d done to have him this hooked. He knew you were nearly as powerful as him with the ability to summon any snake any size and that your body contained every snake venom known (and unknown) to man. The way your eyes would focus on him when he spoke taking in every word as if it was water and you were dehydrated, the way you reach for him in your sleep and God forbid he leaves bed to finish up work(gossip with uraume) you'd storm down stairs and plop in his lap demanding to be held falling asleep the minute he holds you. Or your lips? The way you smiled at him as he cupped your chin to guide his tip—

“No!” He snaps annoyed he has to fight an inanimate object for your attention and he leans forward causing something neither of you expect it happens to fast.

Your hands grab the back of his head locking into his hair yanking so he's now eye level with you, a dark look in your eyes as your tounge grazes your lips before you can say anything his intensity matches yours.

You expect it because how dare you embarrass him in front of lower levels like this?!

His hand wraps around your neck and soon it's a power battle as it usually is with an underlying sexual tension that keeps things flowing between you, the temperature of the room dropping 20 degrees on your behalf and quickly raising 21 on his.

Petty king.

You drop your hand not wanting to fight with him and knowing deep down he didn’t either. But how dare you defy the great sukuna.

“By the time i'm done with my meeting i expect you to be done with this” he seethes making sure to set fire to all the plants as he walks past them. How dramatic!

Sighing knowing that was his way of inviting you to the meeting you turn back to the woman sending her a look of reassurance to continue.

Walking down the bare marble halls the only sound of distant footsteps and chatter as you listen to uraume who fills you in on the gossip. You gasp with a wide eyed expression stopping to face them.

“And they were bunkmates” and your jaw nearly hit the ground at the tea. The servants were so messy you wanted to see if Sukuna knew anything about it and if anything would stop your fued it would be gossip.

Urauma glances behind you, their smile falling completely off their face replaced by nervousness before bringing it back but it was already too late. It's when they try to guide you back to where you had already come from that you get suspicious and turn around seeing Sukuna with one of the servant girls pinned to the wall, his large tattooed arm above her head as he talks.

You almost laugh at the display and at Uraume trying to get his attention, instead you link arms with your boyfriend's bestie and continue to walk past them.

“He couldn't make me jealous even if he tried! I sit on this man's face nearly every night, he buys me everything I want and besides do you see what i look like? My body was crafted! My face was sculpted i cant be jealous when i look like this” you arrogantly spit loud enough for all 3 of them to hear and a slither of you feels bad for the poor girl she had mearly been roped into this and Sukuna feels his heart swell with pride, you were his fucking girl.

But he sees a challenge, he's still a man nonetheless and being a man comes with doing stupidness you couldn't explain.

Like having another woman on his arm at a dinner he hosted with Curses he somewhat respected and neighboring estates just to show off. He was arrogant you'll give him that, and you were livid.

Watching him flaunt this ditsy little flat bodied bimbo around was pissing you off not cause you were jealous but because you were the one that should be meeting all of his allies. You were the one who’s power matched theirs, even rivaled it. You could feel your human eyes turn to snake eyes as your anger rose and roared through you.

It was disrespectful and downright embarrassing! Not only did people not know your status and who you were to him, not only did it make you feel lower than the Queen you actually were not only did you look like a complete fool having Sukunas initial on the gold beads that decorated your butt length braided ponytail but she had the audacity to smile at you as if she won.

He let another woman take your place, let another woman feel like she was above you. He let another woman sit on YOUR throne that is his lap and you can feel yourself losing your composure faster than you ever have.

You want to react in this very moment cause a scene hell even release some of your snakes but you couldn't imagine looking as dramatic and childish as Sukuna did earlier! That wasn't very it girl material of you. Instead you look over at Uraume finishing your glass of Sake, there was no point in wasting it, before shoving it in their hands and disappearing.

Sukuna would never try no shit like this again.

Uraume sends a pointed look at Sukuna who instantly dismisses the servant smirking outwardly at your silent anger, a nerve wracking thought of if he pushed entirely too hard as the silhouette of you leaving replays in his mind. Were those his initials in your braid. He instantly feels disgusted and wants everyone to leave while he talks to you but swallows the thought.

He was Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the king of doing whatever he wanted and nobody could stop him or tell him otherwise. So he parties, drinks and continues the night without a hitch until the sky is at its darkest and he bids a good night showering and laying in his empty bed.

He spends about an hour tossing and turning unable to sleep not knowing where you are and pissed you aren’t in bed with him.

It's when he finally dozes off at the beginning of a dream playing that he thinks he feels the tips of your fingers in his back trailing over his broad shoulders and all four arms.

“Wake your stupid ass up” he hears before there's a vice-like grip on his neck pushing against his windpipe. He struggles for a little bit to breathe as your wrist digs into his pressure points.

“Y/N!” He shouts your name yet you only grip tighter and he doesn't even fight to get you off just shocked at your murder attempt.

“No dont fucking Y/N me! You tried to make me jealous and only pissed me off! Do I look like some weak willed bitch to you? Do you not see what i look like and you think you can make ME jealous, my king im offended! and the fucking audacity to try” you snap squeezing tighter and his hands come up to grip your arms.

“Ryomen If you ever treat me like im not your girlfriend… your fucking queen ill poison you, have you an inch from your life and take over your thrown as i watch you die” you whisper the last part in his ear sending a chill down his spine before your grip loosens completely arms unsnaking.

Climbing under the covers you make yourself comfortable before turning on your side instantly falling asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

You miss the way your boyfriend holds his neck in disbelief with slight arousal and a tad bit of fear. You were fearless yet angry enough to not only threaten him but attempt to kill him? It’s when he hears your soft snores that actually sounds more like a snake hiss that he knows you're actually asleep.

Not only did you just pull that stunt but you had the audacity to sleep peacefully knowing he wouldn’t kill you. Not even a sliver of fear in your body. It’s like you were testing him!

He may have been a sick man because he loved every second of it, he doesn’t test his luck by wrapping any of his arms around you, instead just lays close enough to still feel your body heat until you roll over wrapping an arm and leg possesively around him.

He grins for a woman nearly a foot shorter than him, you may have the biggest ego in the room.

“Wait, she tried to kill you in your sleep, threatened to kill you once you woke up and you’re shopping for wedding rings right now?” Uraume asks and this is one of the only times Sukuna had baffled them with his madness. Uraume never questioned Sukuna, it wouldn’t make sense to and that’s how it was easy being his most loyal and right hand but this… this was different.

“Yeah, any woman that bold is made for me!” Sukuna grins looking over the rings trying to find the biggest, brightest, most sinister looking ring.

“You think after yesterday's events consisting of making her jealous and ignoring her you should propose?” Uraume stated in that pestering ‘duh jackass’ voice that would usually have sukuna second guessing.

“What? No, she rode my face this morning until she blacked out again and I sent her to the next land over shopping for whatever her heart desires then set up a hair appointment with a stylist from her homeland.” Sukuna picks up a ring with a blood diamond circled by red rubies that matched the red of his eyes. He was sure the ring could be used as an anchor… you’d love it.

“Your highness for the cost of that ring we may have to take over a small village to not have this affect our funds” Uraume advises making small notes of villages near by in other peoples territory knowing Sukuna would start a war if it meant funding his queens lifestyle.

“A village is too small i want kamiro territory, ill kill him and anybody that decides to follow him. I don’t like the way he smells anyway” Sukuna shrugs, picking up a matching bracelet for you.

“You two have more drama than the servants”

#sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #jjk x black!reader #sukuna x oc #sukuna x you #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x uraume #uraume x black reader #uraume x sukuna

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mynameismckenziemae · 3 months ago

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I Love You Two

Part 5

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: The guilt and worry eats you alive as the boys are deployed. Jake admits something you hadn’t expected when he returns.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! A little smut, acceptable (is that a thing?) cheating, m/m kissing and touching.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

The tears begin to stream from your eyes when Jake’s breathing evens out behind you.

Tonight was a mistake. Instead of curbing your appetite for Bradley, it’s made you that much hungrier. Worst yet, your feelings for Jake somehow deepened for him allowing this indulgence.

It takes hours for your racing mind to fall asleep and you don’t stir until Jake is gently shaking you awake.

“Morning,” he murmurs as you open your tear-swollen eyes, “were you crying, sweetheart?”

The concern on his face breaks your heart.

“Yeah,” you croak as a fresh round of tears prickle at your tired eyes, “I-I’m gonna miss you.”

It’s not a lie; you are going to miss him.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” he kisses your forehead, “but it shouldn’t be more than a week and a half, two tops.”

You nod.

“We were told we won’t have access to our phones but I’ll get ahold of you as soon as I’m back, okay?” He continues when you nod again, “I love you, Liv.”

Your heart skips a beat just as your stomach sinks.

“I love you too,” you force yourself to smile as you reply softly. It turns genuine at his own grin.

It’s true, you do love him.

But you love Bradley too.

“See you soon,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before heading to the door.

The sob that’s been choking you escapes when you hear his truck turn over in the driveway.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

There’s a ‘miss you already’ text from Jake but nothing from Bradley when you wake up a few hours later. Your head pounds from the interrupted sleep and dehydration as you text back but it comes back as undelivered. Already unreachable.

The following days pass in a haze. Not only are you sick with guilt, you’re worried. Uncle Ice can’t offer you much when you visit at lunch, just keeps telling you there isn’t any news yet. You pick up shifts at the Hard Deck to keep your mind off things but it doesn’t help either. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you can’t do anything besides think about what’s going to happen when they return.

Twelve endless days later, you get a text from Ice after you get home. He hadn’t been in his office at lunch and you’d been wondering if his absence was related to the mission.

Uncle 🧊: Just got word, they’re all back on the carrier.

Relief washes over you.

Liv: Thanks for the update. Everyone okay?

Uncle 🧊: Yeah. Rooster and Mav both had to eject. They’re bruised and beaten up but in one piece.

Your stomach rolls at the news. But Ice wouldn’t lie to you; if he says they’re okay, they’re okay.

Liv: Thank God.

Uncle 🧊: Agreed. Don’t make plans Friday night.

You smile; that’s his way of telling you when they’ll be back.

Liv: I won’t. Thanks for the update. Love you.

Uncle 🧊: Love you too, kiddo. Get some sleep tonight, you need it.

Liv: Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?

Uncle 🧊: No comment.

Liv: 🖕

You can’t help but laugh.

But you don’t sleep again that night, instead tossing and turning before coming to the conclusion that you need to end things with Jake and distance yourself from Bradley.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Friday afternoon rolls around and you get a text from Jake as expected, but your stomach drops at what it reads.

Jake: Should be stateside around 5. Can I come over? We need to talk.

Liv: Sure. I’ll be home.

Jake: K, see you then.

Liv: Okay.

He doesn’t respond.

He knows. Bradley must’ve let it slip that you said you loved him.

You manage to hold off the tears until you get in your car and cry the entire way home.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

There’s a knock at the door a little after 6, and your broken heart still flutters.

Jake looks like he hasn’t slept in days, yet he still manages to look good.

“Hey,” you murmur, letting him in.

“Hey,” he pauses as he passes by you like he’s about to kiss you, but he thinks better of it. A fresh round of tears spring to your eyes.

He sighs as he sits on the couch across from you, rubbing his hands over his face.

“What’s-“ you start.

“I cheated on you,” he interrupts, his voice thick as tears fill his eyes.

His words twist the knife already lodged in your heart.

“What?” You whisper, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

“It-I-fuck,” he stutters uncharacteristically, running his hand through his hair. “I-“

“Liv!” Bradley pounds on the door, startling you both, “don’t listen to him! It’s my fault!”

You look to Jake in confusion as you rise but he just hangs his head.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you open the door, gasping when you see Bradley. His face is intact, but there’s a gash on his neck and deep purple bruising from his harness is visible where his collar is pulled down from the weight of his sunglasses. “Oh God, Roo.”

He gently halts your hand before you can touch him, grimacing as if the action pains him. “I’m fine, Liv, thanks to Jake. What did he tell you?”

“That-“

Jake interrupts again, “I told her the truth; that I cheated on her.”

“He didn’t,” Bradley shakes his head, “it was me.”

“No-“

“Yes, it-“

“Stop,” you cut them both off. “Start from the beginning. I don’t care who, I just want to know what happened. Tell me the truth.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

2 days prior.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return the tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing,” Jake’s smiling voice comes through the comm.

His mom’s laughter, his dad playing the piano, your little gasps before he made you cum…those were the sweetest sounds Bradley’s ever heard, but Jake’s voice is right up there now too; he just saved his life. “Hey, Hangman, you look good.”

“I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. I'll see you back on deck,” Jake flashes them a grin before flying off.

The rough landing back on the carrier takes his breath away; already banged up from ejecting. But he’s alive.

There’s something deeper than gratitude in the look that passes between the two of them as Jake shakes his hand once he’s out of the jet.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of cognitive tests, x-rays, written and verbal reports, and a not-very-pleasant verbal lashing from Cyclone.

Bradley’s physically and mentally exhausted as he walks back to the bunks, wanting nothing more than to flop into bed and pine for you until he falls asleep. But the cheers that greet him as he walks into his and Bob’s room are deafening.

He smiles through the pain of the harsh back slaps, trying not to cringe too much when he gets squeezed on the shoulder in congratulations.

“Just a little,” Bradley warns as he’s handed a solo cup of smuggled booze. “I’m on pain meds.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes but doesn’t give him more than 2 fingers' worth of the smuggled booze.

“To Hangman,” Bradley swallows the lump that formed in his throat as he meets those green eyes across the small room. For everything; for healing your heart when he broke it, for bringing the joy back into your life, for kicking his ass into gear when he wasn’t pulling his weight in the squad, for allowing him to be a part of your life after he fucked it up, “for saving my life.”

Jake gives him a small smile in return, nodding once before they all take a swig.

The hours pass in a alcohol induced blur and suddenly, Jake and Bradley are the only 2 awake.

“Damnit Nat,” Bradley sighs dramatically, as he sways, spotting Natasha on his bed. “Floor it is, I guess.”

“You can’t sleep on the floor after today,” Jake yawns before he scoffs, as if the thought offends him, “you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. C’mon, you can sleep in Javy’s bed.”

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” Bradley asks, brow furrowed, almost falling when he follows where Jake’s pointing to Javy’s sleeping form on the floor. “Oh.”

“Let’s go,” Jake guides Bradley over the rest of the slumbering bodies to walk 2 doors down.

“I really thought I was a goner,” Bradley says softly, leaning back against the bunk when they make it there. “It was sort of peaceful,” he swallows thickly, “I was gonna get to see my mom and dad again. But then I thought of Liv-not like that…I mean like, how sad she would be if she lost her best friend and then…you were there.”

Jake gives him another small smile, uncharacteristically quiet.

Bradley laughs as he pushes off the frame of the bed. “You were there,” he cups Jake’s face in both hands, “You saved me, Jake.”

It’s meant to be a quick, ‘thanks for saving my life,’ peck between friends. Nothing more.

Jake tenses at the touch of Bradley’s lips.

“Shit, I’m so-“ Bradley starts as he pulls away but before he can, Jake’s fisting his shirt to tug him back.

They both groan as their mouths meet again in a rough, demanding kiss. Months of unresolved sexual tension are released between their tangling tongues and nipping teeth as Bradley backs Jake up against the wall.

“Fuck,” Jake pulls off Bradley's lips with a groan as his hand slides up his thigh before palming his hard cock roughly. His head falls back against the wall with a thud as Bradley’s mustache runs over his neck.

“God Jake,” Bradley breathes into his ear, “I want you so bad. Seeing you and Liv…”

It’s like they were doused with a bucket of cold water, both freezing at the sound of your name.

The horror is evident on Jake’s face as Bradley pulls back slowly, “Jake, wait-“

“I’m gonna be sick,” Jake pushes past him to the bathroom, making Bradley cringe at the sound of him emptying his stomach.

“You okay?” Bradley’s vision darkens as he bumps his bruised shoulder against the door frame of the bathroom.

“Fine,” Jake lies, voice thick, “too much to drink. Just-just go to sleep, Bradshaw.”

Bradley stumbles to the bottom bunk with every intention to talk about it in the morning.

But Jake’s gone when he gets up and avoids him entirely until they touch dry land.

“Hangm-Jake!” Bradley calls as Jake heads to the parking lot, “Let me talk to Liv, it was my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Jake replies, looking at the ground, “I gotta tell her the truth.”

“The truth is, we were drunk and I kissed you,” Bradley replies lowly, not to be overheard. “Please, just let me talk-“

“Bradshaw!” Cyclone yells from his office as he flips through the stack in his hands, “I don’t have your mission report here. I need that before you go.”

“Just wait for me,” Bradley pleads, unzipping his duffel to look for the report he knows he handed in.

“Lt. Bradshaw!”

“Fuck,” Bradley mutters as he looks up to Jake getting in his truck. “Coming, sir!”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

You’re almost….relieved at the truth.

“It was my fault,” Bradley says with a sigh as he sits on the other end of the couch from Jake, “I-we were both drinking and it was just meant to be… like a peck on the lips as a thank you and-“

“And I turned it into more,” Jake finishes his sentence. “Stop lying for me, Bradley. I appreciate it, but stop. Please.”

Your mind is racing as you look between them.

Jake turned it into something more? Is he…

“Jake, do you-I mean, are you…into men?” You ask gently.

“I…” he swallows, still refusing to look at either of you, “I think I might be? But I’m also into women, obviously. Like, I’ve been attracted to guys before but never acted on it. Never felt the need to…act on it. Until now.”

Bradley looks just as distraught as Jake sounds.

Jake takes a deep breath and his shoulders shake as he exhales, finally looking up at you. “I fucked up, Liv, and I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, God knows I don’t deserve it. But I want you to know, I meant it when I said I love you.”

Tears again fill your eyes as you nod.

“But I can’t lie and say I don’t have feelings for Bradley too,” he stands. His voice cracks as he looks at him, and so does another piece of your heart, “I tried to ignore it for so long, but it all came rushing to the surface when we kissed. It’s not Bradley’s fault either. It was innocent and I turned it into more.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bradley shakes his head as he stands with a wince, “innocent or not, drunk or sober, or that I have feelings for you too. I shouldn’t have kissed you in the first place.”

“You both have feelings for each other?” You ask as you rise too, continuing when they both nod, “And you both have feelings for me still?”

“I’ve never stopped,” Bradley replies hoarsely, “I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Jake nods. “My feelings for you haven’t changed, Liv. I love you so much.”

“Okay,” you whisper, heart about to beat right out of your chest, “then show me. Together.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: sorry for the delay! I get horribly unmotivated on the weekends and just have been feeling blah lately. What did you think? Anyone see that coming?

Special thanks to @blindedbythelightt for the help with this one!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

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pigeonpeach · 10 months ago

Text

How they would handle a drunk spouse

Warning! ALCOHOL!

Characters: Jean, Diluc, Dehya, Eula, Arlecchino, Navia, Shenhe

A/n: this is a draft that i just fixed up to post. I promise jean x reader will not be forgotten

Cw: fluff, alcoholism. No warnings aside from alcohol!

Jean

She knew Kaeya was a bad influence! Its not entirely his fault but she doesn’t have time to care about your mistake here. You can try to sweet talk her or be all cuddly but shes not holding back on you! You should’ve known better than to get this drunk if you didn’t want to make her worried sick! She goes into overdrive caring for you though. A bucket and water telling you to drink every drop. You aren’t going to bed until she’s sure you feel better because she doesn’t want to wake up to vomit everywhere. Also because you could choke on your own vomit. Its also to help lessen the hangover. Mondstadt is the drinking capital in Teyvat though so there’s definitely more tips she knows just by living there. Despite her being s but mean it does help when you are hungover and less dehydrated than you would’ve been. She made sure to leave you some painkillers and medication for you on the nightstand.

Diluc

“I told you so” kind guy. He’s probably a bit annoyed but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to help. Although he can’t help but find it a little bit amusing the state you’re in. Just giggling and mumbling words. Its kind of cute. Unlike Jean his anger and annoyance lessens the more cuddly you get. His heart melting at the fact that you still seek him out in this inebriated state of yours. He’ll fix you something to sober you up real quick and hold your hair if you vomit. If you have to take a bath he will be there to make sure you don’t drown. Since he is a bartender he has the best knowledge of how to handle hangovers. Next time however you should be careful

Eula

She probably was drinking with you to be honest. But her liver is far stronger than you thought! Seeing you drunk out of your mind she will stop drinking for the night and take you home instead. A gentle bridal style while she takes caution to not upset your tummy. She gets you plenty of water to help sober you up for bed time. You will just have to go along with her word, she isnt entertaining any arguments or resistance from you now! She changes you out of your clothes, ties up your hair, etc. She makes sure you’re nice and cozy for the night before she takes care of herself.

Dehya

She can’t help but find it amusing watching you stumble about. She asks Lambad for some water but she holds it to you so you won’t drop it. She teases you about being a lightweight. But she isn’t finished drinking yet so just hold on! Once you fall over and pass out though she ditches that plan and instead carries you home. A bit difficult considering she too is tipsy but it helps that she’s strong and not nearly as drunk. Nonetheless she tucks you in and sleeps right next to you, making sure you’re pressed up against her so you can be nice and warm.

Arlecchino

She knew you would be a light weight. Just one shot of firewater and you’re out like a light, your head on her thigh as she was reading something. You seem too peaceful to move so she simply lets you stay there. Her hand rummaging through your hair every so often. Occasionally she glances to see your face and smiles. You’re cute like this. Next time she’ll make sure to dilute the firewater properly so she an enjoy your drunken state a little more.

Shenhe

She’s not sure what to do with you actually. Worried that you’ve hit your head she brings you to Bubu pharmacy, to which Baizhu has to explain the difference between a head injury and alcohol. But he sends her off with a few pain meds for you in the morning. She heeds his instructions well. Helping you settle in for a nice rest to sleep it off. She might have gone overboard though because she overdoes it with the blankets and water. But its still appreciated when you wake up with the worst hangover.

Beidou

You crash together. You fall asleep first, in her arms as she eventually falls asleep too , holding you close to her. Both drunk out of your minds you two end up asleep using a tarp as a blanket on the deck of the crux. The crew still mulling and celebrating their most recent success. The crew ends up having to lift you two back to your beds together because even unconscious would Beidou not let go of you. When you wake up she’s far better off than you as she teases you endlessly. Needless to say you two will be chugging water from here on out. At least until the next celebration. Lucky for you she keeps a stash of painkillers for her crew for this specific occasion.

Navia

A relentless teaser! How horrible! She ends up giggling watching you stumble and stutter. She can’t help it! You’re such a silly bean! Once you get sleepy is when she brings you home to rest. With her guards doing the heavy lifting of course. But she’ll do the bathing or changing herself with them casted out of the room. Afterwards she prepares herself for bed, snuggling against you.

In the morning she’ll make her guards get you painkillers and water.

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sourpatchys · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I wanted to ask if it would be okay if you could do Dabi, Spinner and Shigaraki (separately) Helping their girlfriend’s Recovery after her surgery?😊 I love those boys they always bring me comfort🥹

(last year, I got both of my fallopian tubes removed because I didn’t want kids and wasn’t planning on having any at all whatsoever! and honestly best decision I ever made, because. I’m already dealing with stress and anxiety bad enough as it is!!!😱)

Hi!! Yes, of course I will! I’m happy to hear you got to make that decision, I definitely understand the want to do so haha

Notes: no real setting, I wanted reader to have a warm bed to sleep on, so this could be before the summer training arc or afterwards in a nice hideout! (potentially PLF era?)

A/n: just so that everyone can read, regardless of whether they want kids or not, I made the surgery in question a little vague! It can be whatever your heart desires

Guidelines Masterlist

—

Tomura wasn’t really sure what to do with you.

He knew you were hurting and had to take it easy, and, honestly, he had no real issue with that— but everything else had him a little lost.

You slept more often than not, waking only to take your pain medication or to ask for a cool or hot compress— which of course he’d always get for you— even if he complained first.

And that’s really all it was. He took over as your caretaker, not even thinking twice about the decision. And why should he? You were someone he cared deeply about, and even if it showed a side of him to others that he didn’t necessarily want them to see— he was nothing if not adaptable.

He never went off on his own to get what he thought you needed, choosing instead to wait for your airy voice to mumble out a request. Though, he sat by your bedside, waiting for the next one to stumble out of your lips.

Getting food and water in you was difficult, the pain had made your hunger subside, and your sleepiness didn’t create many openings to help with potential dehydration, so he did bitch at you a few times to make you drink and nibble on a granola bar or some blended up soup.

Other than that it was quiet, tame and comfortable. At night he’d sleep beside you, making sure to put your medication and water bottle on your nightstand, allowing you to take the reins of your own fate while he slumbered— though— if he woke up every time he felt you shift— that was no one else’s concern.

Dabi was not the best caretaker. And by that I mean he basically took all free will away from you and completely took over, refusing to let your requests or opinions sway his decisions.

He’s well aquatinted with surgery and recovery, one doesn’t get to look the way he does and not understand the basics of both.

He made you drink when he felt it was appropriate, he would shove easily digestible food at you with such ease— as if it would be criminal for you not to take it.

He bitched at you the entire time,

“don’t do that”, “shut up”, “lay down.”

There was really no room for what you wanted. But really, all of your needs were met, and you felt better much quicker than you ever thought possible.

He made sure you took all of your medication, down to the last pill, regardless of how well you felt. He was both patient and not patient with you at all.

He stayed by your side the entire time— dressing you in silk pajamas as to not irritate your skin, fluffing your pillows when you weren’t looking, calling you names when you’d hurt yourself by moving around too much.

But the recovery was a success, and though it was agonizing, it really could’ve have gone any better.

Spinner was clueless.

He was at your every beck and call, fluffing your pillows, running around with every medical device he could get his hands on.

He was frantic, concerned and worried, with utterly no idea how to help you. He did try— oh boy did he try.

From the beginning of your bed rest until the end, he couldn’t keep still. Every groan that left your lips, every sigh, he was up and he was moving.

Your medicine was always distributed on time, sometimes even a little earlier than was necessary. You were stocked up with snacks, water and juices, and you were sure you had every pillow and blanket ever created.

He would cook for you, run his clawed hands up and down your scalp to sooty your aches and pains, he even got compress to put on a silly little magic show for you.

Anything to distract you— anything to make you laugh.

And while it was definitely overkill, and you were definitely more stressed about his well being than you were with your own— it made for a wonderful recovery.

You found yourself not worrying about weather or not you’d have to be out under again— because you knew that, above all else, you could laugh all the while.

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oddinary4bts · 2 years ago

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 2 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there will be mature content in later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: a hangover (some throwing up), brattiness, cursing, insults bc they are stupid (respectfully)

☆word count: 7.7k

☆a/n: Another week, another chapter! Once again, thank you to my beautiful beta reader @moonleeai for her help on this chapter!

☆series masterpost here

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, April 29th

You don’t know what’s worse. The pounding in your head as you wake up, or the immediate nausea that hits you when you realize everything is spinning around you. You crack an eye open to see you forgot to shut the blinds in your drunk state last night, and rain splatters on the window. You’re lucky it’s not sunny, otherwise your head probably would have imploded right then and there.

You sit up, wincing as the nausea rocks against you harder, determined to throw you off the cliff until you’re throwing up. You hold on strong though, breathing in slowly, holding it before you release it. You’re still dizzy after that, but it doesn’t feel like you’re seconds away from throwing up. It’s enough for you to slip out of bed, and your feet catch into your discarded clothes from last night. You almost fall, but you catch yourself at the last minute, stepping over the pile before making your way to the window. You crack it open a little, and the smell of rain overtakes you, right as a cool breeze moves on your naked form.

You always sleep naked, but somehow you have a sock on right now. You furrow your brows, trying to remember when you put it on because you sure as hell weren’t wearing it in your heels last night. It’s too much thinking for your poor brain, and let out a shaky breath as nausea finds you again.

You lean your head against the windowsill, and mist from the rain outside cools your forehead, until you’re able to stand straight again. You take off the sock, throwing it somewhere in your room to be picked up later before gathering the courage for the trek to your bathroom. It’s a good few meters, and you have no idea if you’ll make it.

You don’t really have a choice, so you take a deep breath from the rainy world outside to steady you before taking a few steps. You’re halfway through when you realize nausea is going to win, and you run the rest of the way to throw up in the toilet.

There’s not much for you to throw up, and bile burns your throat for a few seconds before you’re able to sit back. The cold tiles feel like heaven, and you lie down, shutting your eyes. You must have fallen asleep, because you wake up a while later, feeling way too confused as to how you got to the bathroom. You shrug it off, sitting up and wincing at the sore spots in your back.

It takes you a moment to collect yourself before you’re able to stand up, and you grab the glass beside the sink to pour yourself some water. You down the whole glass in a few long gulps, feeling dehydration in every inch of your body. You pour yourself another glass, from which you take a single small sip before making your way to your room.

You sit on your bed, eyes watching the wet world outside. It’s not raining anymore, but drops of water are still drying on the window. From the looks of it, it’s probably going to rain again, dark clouds looming low over the horizon.

What you like about drunk you is that there is a couple things she never forgets. Taking off your makeup and doing your skincare being one. Always plugging in your phone, another. So your phone is fully charged as you grab it, and you read through your notifications as you sip the water.

You’ve gotten a lot of texts you entirely ignored last night, as you usually do when you’re drunk. One of them makes you pause for almost a full minute, and you’re still not sure it’s real when your phone’s screen goes black from you not having touched it in a whole minute.

[02:37 am] unknown number: please don’t fkg flirt with my friends lol

You don’t have to rake your brain to figure out who might have sent that text. The fact that he took the time to type it out and send it to you is surprising, even unbelievable. You didn’t even know he had your phone number saved.

You don’t know what to reply. So you say nothing for now, mind reminiscing of the events of last night. Of Jeon Jungkook reappearing as if he was never gone, to be a prick in your side once again. A thorn stuck under your skin. Not really hurting, but gosh if it isn’t annoying.

You scoff. You know he’s talking about his friend Jimin. You weren’t drunk enough yet to forget that, and last you checked Jimin was the one flirting with you. Jeon Jungkook is out of his mind if he thinks you’re the one to blame.

You decide to fully ignore the text, moving to your conversation with Jiho instead.

[10:36 am] Jiho❣️: brunch??? 🥲

She sent it about twenty minutes ago. You’re in no state to hit the city and go brunching right now, and you lie back on your bed.

[10:57 am] You: can we go in one hour? I’m barely alive

[10:57 am] Jiho❣️: lmao mood

[10:58 am] Jiho❣️: yes ma’am. I’ll text the rest

You send her a thumbs up that she laughs-reacts to, which makes you chuckle. It’s the first truly human thing you’ve done since you woke up and it helps to make you feel less dead inside. Enough so that you sit up and drag yourself to the shower. You let the cold water wash away the remnants of your hungover, though you’re pretty sure it’s the Advil you took before that truly does the deed. You’re getting dressed when there’s a gentle knock on your door, and your mother doesn’t wait for you to tell her she can come in before she does.

"You were out late last night," she comments as she walks in.

She heads straight to the window, and she shuts it as you just stand there, wet hair from your shower soaking through your shirt.

“Was I?” you sarcastically say.

Either she misses the sarcasm, or she really doesn’t care. “Had fun?”

It’s suspicious. She doesn’t usually want to know if you’re out having fun. Which means she probably has something she wants to ask of you, and you steel yourself for the question.

“Yeah,” you flatly say.

“There’s going to be a dinner at your aunt’s house,” she reveals. “I said you were coming.”

You roll your eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “When?”

“Next Saturday.”

“I’ve got practice on Saturday evening.”

She doesn’t care, because she merely shrugs her shoulders. “If you can go out at night instead of practicing, I’m pretty sure you can afford an evening with your family.”

In truth, you don’t mind dinners with the family. You’d prefer them if your mom wasn’t there to remind everyone of all the mistakes you’ve dared to make in your life though.

“I’ll see,” you say, only so she lets it go for today. You actually have no intention to do so, but it works well enough so that she leaves your room, not closing the door behind her.

It makes you clench your jaw as you move to do it yourself, and then you finish getting dressed, grumbling about annoying mothers as you pull your jeans on. You were considering a pair of pale dress pants a moment ago, but with the wet world outside you’d only risk staining the fabric. So jeans it is, and five minutes later you’ve dried your hair enough to pull it back into a neat bun. You only then grab your phone, and Jiho’s already texted you.

[11:27 am] Jiho❣️: do u remember bridget from last night? heather asked if she can come?? [11:34 am] You: ??????????🤯 [11: 36 am] Jiho❣️: ?????????? what’s going on [11:36 am] You: they hooked up???? [11:37 am] You: i didn’t know heather’s into girls [11:39 am] Jiho❣️: dead that that’s the first thing u think about💀 [11:40 am] You: looool am i wrong tho [11:41 am] Jiho❣️: just come down plz, I’m terrified of ur mom🥲

You laugh out loud, before quickly grabbing a pair of socks to put on for the boots you’re planning to wear. You head downstairs and sure enough you find Jiho in the living room, talking to your mother with a mortified look on her face. She sees you before your mother does, and you stifle a laugh at her widened gaze. She glares at you, before blinking a few times as your mother asks her a question.

You intervene then, walking in the living room to rescue your best friend. Your mother wishes you a good brunch, in that cold detached tone she uses whenever she just wants to be rid of you, and you quickly make your way outside, Jiho in tow.

“I know I shouldn’t say that of your mom,” Jiho says as you step outside, “but she is so weird. She’s like a robot or something.”

You laugh. “I know, I’m the one that’s forced to live with her.”

You walk in silence for a few seconds, huddled close together under the umbrella Jiho pulls over you as soon as a drop of rain falls from the sky. “Anyway, Heather?”

You shriek. “What did she say?”

Jiho pulls her phone out of her tote bag, handing it to you. You unlock it, before going into the messages.

“I can’t believe the first person Heather brings home is a girl.”

Your eyes skim over the conversation. It’s a lot shorter than you thought it would be, and you shriek all through it.

[11:01 am] Jiho: u up for brunch? [11:04 am] Heather💃🏼: oooooooh [11:04 am] Heather💃🏼: brunch!!!!!!! [11:05 am] Heather💃🏼: always [11:05 am] Heather💃🏼: can I uuuuuuuh bring Bridget🫢 [11: 13 am] Jiho: ???? [11:14 am] Jiho: bridget? [11:16 am] Heather💃🏼: i might have brought her home last night [11:17 am] Jiho: HEATHER WTF [11:17 am] Jiho: yes plz bring her [11:18 am] Heather💃🏼: 🥰🥰🥰

“This is the best plot twist of the year. I don’t care about nationals anymore, I have reached heaven,” you say, handing her phone back to Jiho. “I didn’t even see them talk all that much last night.”

Jiho chuckles, and a gush of wind sends water splashing right into your face. You dry it with the back of your hand, mindlessly.

“That’s because the other girl…”

“Jo?” you provide.

“Jo made you drink shots back to back for like an hour.”

You wince. “No wonder I feel like shit right now.”

“At least you don’t look it.”

You roll your eyes, pushing her gently. “Please, I’ve seen my face in the mirror this morning.”

“I stand by what I said.”

You laugh together, and the conversation moves to other subjects involving last night, revolving around Hobi, though by the slight blush on Jiho’s cheeks you know she’s trying not to talk about it too much. After all, it’s probably one of the first times she’s actually hung out with Hobi outside of practice.

You let her gush, teasing her whenever she mentions stuff you actually remember from last night, and soon enough you reach your usual brunch spot. Heather and Bridget are already there, and your eyes widen at the sight of Heather’s sweater on Bridget’s frame. You and Jiho exchange a knowing look, before making your way to where the two girls are standing.

“Morning,” you greet them.

Bridget flashes you a bright smile. “Hey! Not too hungover?”

You chuckle. “Your friend was determined to kill me last night, wasn’t she?”

“That’s Jo for you.”

It makes you laugh, and a hostess appears to guide you to your table. Jiho asks for six seats, and you only understand why when Chaeyeon and Lance appear about twenty minutes later. Lance is still wearing his clothes from last night, and blush dusts Chaeyeon’s cheeks. Not the kind of blush caused by the cold, no. It’s the walk of shame kind of blush, though the smile on her lips tells you she probably has no regrets at all.

They sit with you, and you’re halfway through your meal by the time Lance addresses you directly. “You talked to JK last night?”

The table falls in a hushed silence, and all eyes turn to you. You scrunch up your nose, shrugging your shoulders. “Tried to get him to explain why he left but he’s stubborn.”

“He’s always been,” Heather points out. She exchanges a look with Bridget. “He… probably left because he was tired of…” She seems to be looking for an excuse, and it comes upon you that she appears to know something you don’t.

You’ve never been one to push people to speak, so you just watch as she struggles to find words. She never finds any, and Bridget is the one to talk.

“He just wanted to focus on college.”

It’s almost harsh, the way she says it. As if she wants all of you to drop it. It piques your curiosity even more, damn you, and it takes everything in you not to ask why Jungkook out of all people would want to focus on college.

Isn’t he studying visual arts anyway? It’s not like it implies a lot of studying.

Jiho doesn’t have your chill, because she says, “That sounds awfully like a big excuse, huh?”

You stifle a laugh, and Chaeyeon intervenes with a completely oblivious, “Who’s JK?”

Heather lets out a small anxious chuckle. “He’s someone that used to be on our dance crew.”

“He dipped last year without telling anyone why,” Lance adds, leaning closer to Chaeyeon.

They exchange a look that leads to both of them blushing, and you purse your lips as you look at Jiho. She’s got the same look on her face, and you would have burst out laughing if Bridget didn’t talk.

“I’m sure he had a good reason,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s not the kind of person to do something without a reason.”

You scoff. “Doesn’t mean the reason is good.”

“What’s with you and JK being at each other’s throat anyway?” Bridget asks.

You like her. You don’t know why but you like her. Even if it seems as if you’re fighting with her right now (albeit subtly), you respect her for defending her friend. Because clearly Jungkook is her friend, and she’s the type to protect the people close to her. It’s cute, and instead of angering you, her question makes you ponder for a time.

“We’ve just never really liked each other,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oof,” Heather puts in. “They always fought before JK left. It was kind of annoying.” She shoots you a look. “Sorry.”

You shrug again. “Nah, you’re good. It really was annoying. That’s why I think we’re better off without him.”

Lance only then returns to the conversation, after having spoken to Chaeyeon, ignoring all of you for the last few minutes. “Honestly we might be. If you pull up with a good choreography I think we might be just fine. Just need to convince Hobi to stop trying to get us to be seven.”

“I’ll work on that,” Jiho says beside you.

It’s her turn to receive everyone’s attention. “What, ‘cause you think Hobi would listen to you?” Heather asks. It’s genuine, the way she asks, with a slight pout to her lips.

Jiho flushes red, shrugging her shoulders. “We’re a team, I can help.”

“Right,” you say, offering her salvation. “We’ll figure it out.”

Heather sighs, sitting back in her chair. “I kind of missed when JK was on the team though.”

“That’s because you were crushing on him for the longest time,” Lance teases.

Clearly, he’s completely unaware that something happened between Bridget and Heather. You glare at him, trying to knock some sense into his head, but it’s already too late.

Bridget doesn’t look like she cares. She only laughs, playing with a piece of pancake on her plate. “Who can blame her, have you seen the man?”

You have. And he’s far too full of himself to be even remotely attractive to you. You refrain from saying so, preferring to let the conversation move on from Jungkook’s subject. Instead, you eat your breakfast, listening to everyone talk as you sip on your orange juice.

Your phone is face down on the table when it vibrates, and Jiho puts hers down a second later. You grab yours, subtly looking down at the screen.

[12:49 pm] Jiho❣️: u look upset☹️

You make sure no one is looking before you reply.

[12:50 pm] You: jk texted me last night

The sound Jiho lets out next to you is somewhere between a snort and a cough, and she recovers well by faking a real cough this time. It seems to go unnoticed to everyone but you, and she looks at you with round eyes before replying.

[12:52 pm] Jiho❣️: y didn’t u mention before😤 [12:53 pm] You: bc it’s nothing. he’s stupid [12:53 pm] Jiho❣️: 😤😤😤

You laugh as silently as possible, before screenshotting Jungkook’s text. You send it to Jiho, before adding,

[12:54 pm] You: hope this is a good enough apology [12:54 pm] Jiho❣️: he said WHAT [12:54 pm] Jiho❣️: also, the unknown number i’m dead💀

You put your phone back face down on the table, indicating that the conversation is done for now. Jiho is glaring at your profile, but you ignore it. Just like you ignored Jungkook’s text, really. It works well enough, and Jiho lets it go to focus back on the conversation around the table. It gives you the opportunity to think about what to reply to Jungkook, though you still have no idea.

It’s only later in the evening that you find yourself with something to reply to him. You know it’s going to piss him off, and you send the text with a mischievous grin on your lips.

[10:03 pm] You: who’s this?

Thursday, May 3rd

For someone that’s been dancing since you were a child, you know nothing about creating a choreography from scratch. Maybe you’d be able to do it for a lone dancer, but a group of six? Your mind has been completely empty.

It’s infuriating, really. And you think Hobi might as well murder you when you tell him you have nothing. And you’ve watched hundreds of hours of other choreographies since Sunday, but still your brain is completely empty.

‘No thoughts, head empty’ has never been so real.

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed. It’s late at night, and your laptop’s screen has gone black a while ago as you scrolled through your phone. You’re stalking the Instagram pages of other dance crews, trying to figure out what kind of moves they are going for for nationals. Your goal is to head away from anything that might resemble what other crews are doing.

Which is quite a harder task than it seems when you’ve never even choreographed anything before.

How did Jungkook manage to do this? Back when he was still part of the crew, Hobi asked him for choreographies all the time. He always had something new, something fierce and something never done before. No wonder your dance crew has had so much success so far.

But you are running out of choreographies created by Jungkook, the last one having been used at nationals last year.

You scoff, running a hand through your hair. You only have two days left for a choreography, and you really don’t think you’ll make it. There’s always the option of asking Jungkook for help, but something about it doesn’t sit right with you.

Especially after his only reply to your last text message was:

[10:27 pm] unsaved number: 🙄

He sent that on Monday night, a little over twenty-four hours after you replied to him, and you haven’t said anything in return. You don’t really want to talk to him or to see him again, if you’re honest. Especially not after he said you were a bitch.

No, you usually don’t do insults, and the fact that he did really doesn’t sit right with you.

But you’re not stupid. You need help for the choreography, and you ARE running out of time. So you bite the bullet and type out a text that you reread at least a hundred times before clicking on send.

You immediately shut your phone and put it face down on your couch next to you, before clicking on your laptop to make the screen come to life again.

*****

Jungkook is sprawled on the couch, one arm under his head as he looks at a show on the TV. Taehyung and Jo went up a moment ago, and he’s decided to watch another episode before going to bed. Mostly because his leg has been hurting like a bitch today.

It always does after his physical therapy appointment.

He’s dozing off, eyelids heavy as he watches the action unfold on the screen. In all truth, he’s not really paying attention. He received your text before Taehyung and Jo went to bed, and he’s been thinking about it since then.

So far, he hasn’t found anything annoying to reply, so he’s making you wait. Little do you know, Hobi actually asked him the same thing. Not that Hobi doesn’t trust you, but Jungkook has always been the choreographer.

You’re more of a dancer than him though, but he’d never admit that to you. No, he rather prefers making you feel like you’re not good enough, just because riling you up gives him a weird sense of satisfaction.

It’s been that way since he met you, back when you were sixteen. The first thing he had noticed about you then was that you were pretty. The soft kind of pretty, the one that comes with having everything given to you whenever you wanted it. You joined the dance crew almost at the same time as him, so he always felt like there was competition between you. It only became worse when he realized who your mother was, and that you had joined a dance crew at your mother’s studio.

He had thought it was insulting that they had taken you, because clearly you didn’t need a crew to be a dancer. In all truth at first you had been friendly competition. It’s when he had realized how much better you thought yourself to be that he had started teasing you, insulting you subtly whenever he got the chance.

It’s second nature now, and whenever he sees you he just feels the need to rile you up. To make you frown and stomp your feet, with your little fists resting on your hips. You probably think you’re intimidating when you do that, but he’s always just found it cute.

He sighs and shifts on the couch, wincing at the pain that shoots from his knee before returning to its usual background intensity.

Indeed, the pain never goes away. It’s always there, gnawing at his nerves until he loses his temper. He reckons he’s been losing it more and more in the last few months, but that’s only because the winter cold made it hurt far more than it has hurt so far. He’s glad that summer is coming now, and he already feels it in his knee.

It’s a hopeless wish, but he hopes one day his leg won’t hurt anymore.

Another sigh escapes the confines of his chest, and it turns into a startled gasp as someone throws something soft on him from behind the couch.

“What the fuck?” he grumbles as Jimin’s iconic laugh is heard.

His friend moves around the couch before sitting at Jungkook’s feet while the latter pushes the soft thing – a sweater – off his face.

“You’re so lost in thought you didn’t even hear me come in,” Jimin teases as he leans against the couch, turning his head towards Jungkook. “Still thinking about that girl from Saturday?”

Immediately Jungkook grows defensive. “No? Why would I be thinking of her?”

Jimin just raises his eyebrow, a shit-eating smile on his lips.

“Fuck off.”

“You’re still jealous,” Jimin teases, and Jungkook struggles to sit up so he can punch his friend in the shoulder.

“I was not jealous.” He feels hot, and his brows knit together. “Just fucking let it go.”

Jimin shrugs, pouting. “No.”

“You’re an ass.”

Jimin looks away, eyes settling on the TV. He doesn’t say anything except letting out a laugh, and the laugh in and of itself is even more infuriating than whatever he could have said. Jungkook scoffs before laying back down.

“Seriously though,” Jimin says after a few blissful minutes of silence. “What’s your deal with her?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes to the back of his head. “I have no deal with her. And it’s not because you ask the same question a thousand times that the answer will change.”

“So you won’t be angry at me if I tell you I dmed her on Insta?”

Jungkook’s eyes shoot to Jimin’s profile, and the smirk on his friend’s lips make him want to punch a hole into his head. “You did not?”

“So what if I did?” Jimin asks. “As you said, ‘I have no deal with her’.”

Jimin’s imitation of his previously uttered phrase forces Jungkook to sit up once again. This time he throws his legs on the side of the couch until his feet touch the ground, and he sits back against the backrest, playing with his piercing to keep the annoyance at bay. He chooses to remain silent, because he knows saying something will just make it worse.

“This is gold,” Jimin still says, and he starts laughing again. “I’ve never seen you worked up about a girl before.”

“I am not worked up about her.”

Jimin throws him a no-bullshit look, an eyebrow cocked sassily. “No, of course not, my bad bro.” Another snicker, and Jimin adds, “You’re sulking”.

“Do you want to die?” Jungkook asks, entirely serious. Because he does want to kill Jimin, if only to shut him up. “She’s annoying, I don’t give a shit about her. Besides, I don’t even dance anymore. You should know that.” He speaks fast, and his voice quickly falls into the same simmering anger that takes over him whenever he thinks about the consequences of the accident.

Jimin notices the change in him and immediately backs off, shrugging his shoulders. “I know.”

It ends the conversation, and they watch the rest of the show in a tense silence, until Jungkook finally decides it’s time to go up to bed. Jimin wishes him good night before disappearing into the kitchen, and Jungkook climbs upstairs.

If Jo and Taehyung were not already in bed, he probably would have slammed his door shut behind him for good measure, but he’s not that much of an asshole. Not when his friendship with Taehyung still feels fragile, even after the talk that they had a couple of weeks ago.

Instead, he softly closes the door behind him, before heading straight for his bed. He plops down, wincing at the ever-constant pain in his leg. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to it; it doesn’t feel like he will. Especially not when he doesn’t feel it for a few seconds when he wakes up, and he almost forgets he ever got in a car accident in the first place.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rolling on his back. He looks up at his ceiling, and the purple glow of his LED light does almost nothing to calm him down.

He needs Jimin to stop teasing him about you. He also needs Jimin to stay fucking clear of you, because he knows his friend. If he can’t have something, it makes him want it even more. He usually finds it funny, but somehow it strikes a nerve right now.

Maybe because he’s always fucking upset about everything now. Like how you pretended it wasn’t him that texted you the other day. Who else would have texted you anyway?

It reminds him that you actually texted him about an hour and a half ago, and he’s yet to reply. He groans, grabbing his phone from his pocket before opening it. It directly opens to the conversation with you, and he rereads your text.

[9:56 pm] You🙄: i might ignore jimin if u help me with a choreography

Does that mean that Jimin actually did text you? It makes Jungkook’s heart feel heavy in his chest, and he frowns as he rereads your message a couple of times, teeth pulling at his piercing.

He wants to reply something to spite you, just because he can. But now that Jimin said all of that… Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he should just accept. Because he doesn’t like the thought of you with his friend at all, and he knows you well enough to know you would do Jimin without a single ounce of hesitation if it can piss him off.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself replying with,

[11:31 pm] Jungkook: already accepting defeat i see [11:31 pm] Jungkook: yes i can help

You were already typing something by the time he sent the second message, and he watches the three little dots disappear before reappearing again. It takes you almost a full minute to reply, and he wonders how many times you’ve rewritten the text that appears in front of his eyes.

[11:32 pm] You🙄: i need it by Saturday [11:32 pm] Jungkook: bruh

You don’t say anything for a while, and he puts his phone away to go take a shower and brush his teeth. His mind is already coming up with something to help you with, and he’s almost appalled with himself. Why is he so willing to help you?

He’s settled under his comforter when he finally grabs his phone to see if you replied. You have and he smirks as he reads your text.

[11:34 pm] You🙄: plz don’t be a bitch about it, hobi only gave me a week🥲 [10:47 pm] Jungkook: and u still have nothing? outrageous🤨

Satisfied, Jungkook moves to put his phone away, but it vibrates in his hand before he does. You sent him a bunch of looking-up emojis, and he just replies with the one blowing a kiss. You’re quick to reply once more, and he rolls his eyes before laying back in bed with his phone in hand. He’s not annoyed though, just amused. Surprisingly so.

[10:48 pm] You🙄: can u come to the studio tmrw?

Jungkook wets his lips, and he’s about to reply when his brain comes up with an image that makes him freeze. He thinks about you, in bed. For some reason, his mind decides you’re lying on your side, hair loose around your head. You’re looking at your phone, and the light caresses your features ever so softly. It strikes him so bad that he finds himself pressing on the Facetime call button before he even realizes he does.

He’s appalled for a time as he watches his own reflection on his screen for a couple of seconds, the sound of ringing filling his room. He’s convinced this is a bad idea, and he doesn’t think you will pick up.

To his surprise, you do pick up. But all he can see is what looks like a wall.

“Why are you calling me?” you ask, and your voice is dripping with annoyance.

That’s how he likes you to be, isn’t it?

“Figured it’d be easier that way,” he replies, and he wonders if it’s just him or is it suddenly more hot in his room?

You remain silent for a time, and he wonders if you’re looking at him on your screen. It’s hard to know what you might see there. Even though he knows he’s an attractive man, there’s something about your disdain for him that’s always made him feel a little insecure in your presence.

Maybe that’s why he’s always riling you up.

“Mmh,” you hum after a moment. “Can you then?”

He’s all but forgotten what you asked him by text before he called you, and it takes him a moment to formulate an answer. “Probably.” There’s a mischievous smirk on his lips when he adds, “What do I get in exchange?”

He hears you scoff, and his smirk melts into a grin. “I’m not going to let you flirt with me at almost midnight.”

“Then why did you pick up?” He’s being a little shit. It feels refreshing and his smile doesn’t waver from his lips. Especially as you don’t say anything. It makes him chuckle. “Thought so.”

“You are as annoying as I remember you to be, Jeon Jungkook.”

The way you say his name, with a low voice that sounds a little like danger, makes him gulp, and the smile dies on his lips.

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he says, and just like that he feels like he’s regained control. He can almost hear you roll your eyes, which brings him to say, “Why don’t you show your face?”

“Why? Do you want to see me?” you ask, and it’s almost a purr.

His heart picks up its pace in his chest, and Jungkook is glad for the purple light in his room. He’s pretty sure it hides the blush on his cheeks. “Just weird to be staring at a wall when you get to see my handsome face, no?”

“Who told you you’ve got a handsome face?” you tease, but you still finally show on the screen.

You’re not wearing any makeup, and your hair is a mess. Jungkook almost wants to point it out, but he doesn’t want to make you go away, so he just shrugs.

“My mom?”

“I don’t think that counts,” you say, and this time he sees you roll your eyes.

He moves until he’s lying on his back, holding his phone over his face. He wets his lips, before saying, “Anyway, yes I can.” He pauses, looking away from his phone before resuming his attention on you. “Only if you bring something to eat.”

You look up as if annoyed. “Alright, whatever it takes.”

He immediately jumps on the occasion. “Whatever it takes? Let me reconsider what I want.”

To his surprise, you laugh, and he’s struck dumb for a good ten seconds.

“So?”

He gulps. “So what?”

“So what do you want?”

He doesn’t know. He’s really struck dumb, but then his brain goes down the dark road again. He wants his leg to stop aching. He wants it to be so he’s never left the dance crew, so he’s never had to give up on his dreams. It sobers him up real quick.

“Uh, just food is fine.”

If you’re concerned by his switch in behaviour, you do not show. You only watch him for a few seconds before saying, “I have no idea what you like.”

“Just anything”, he says. His eyes trail away from his phone, and he doesn’t let you say something else before adding, “Listen, I gotta go, but text me what time you want me to be there?”

At that you seem surprised, as if you didn’t expect him to want to hang up so quickly. Your brows are knitted together when he looks back at you. You look as if you want to ask a question, and he really feels like he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s glad when you just scoff, and say, “Alright?”

He offers you a tight-lipped smile. He feels like an asshole, but you’re suddenly the last person he wants to be talking to. “Good night.”

At least he’s not an asshole enough to hang up without saying goodbye.

Friday, May 4th

You won’t lie, you’re a little anxious at the thought of being with Jungkook alone. It’s not something that ever happened before, and in all truth you don’t know why you suggested it. Why didn’t you ask him to come tomorrow instead, when everyone would be there to work on the choreography?

You feel stupid, but then again you don’t want the crew to know you had to ask Jungkook for help. You can only hope he doesn’t say anything to the rest, but it seems unlikely. Last you checked he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore except Hobi.

You’re in a small studio, away from the main class ones. It’s a studio you usually use when you want to dance alone in peace, and it’s almost forgotten by everyone that comes to your mother’s dance studio. It’s cozy to you, maybe because it’s always been a refuge to you, a safe haven whenever Jiho’s house couldn’t be one for you.

Right now, it smells like fried chicken, because that’s what you were craving before you came to the studio. You arrived an hour ago, even though you only told Jungkook to be here around 5 pm.

You needed to mentally prepare yourself after all. You’re not sure it really worked, and when Jungkook texts you to say he’s outside, you feel like this is all a bad idea. You still text him the number of the room you’re in, and as you wait for him, you look at yourself in the mirror to ensure you look okay.

You don’t even know if you do. Don’t know why you curled your hair and put on a little bit of makeup either. Maybe because Jungkook has a tendency to point out every little flaw on you.

He arrives about a whole five minutes later. He’s holding two bubble teas, and your eyes widen as he smiles at you.

“Hey,” you greet him, and you take a few steps towards him before stopping in your tracks. You motion towards the chicken. “I got Korean fried chicken.”

“Thought it smelled like it,” he says. He finishes crossing the distance between you two, handing you one of the bubble teas. “Do you like this?”

“What flavour is it?” you ask, taking it from his hand.

A strange sensation goes through you as your index touches one of his fingers. You frown at the feeling, before taking a sip from the bubble tea as he says, “Banana milk”.

You hum in content, and your eyes are almost bulging out of your head when you realize he’s gotten it with jelly instead of tapioca. “How did you know that’s my favourite?”

He makes a weird face, with his nose scrunched up a little. “I didn’t, I just took two of my usual.”

You don’t like that you have something in common with Jungkook, so you say, “Did you have to make banana milk bubble tea disgusting?”

He looks infinitely confused for a few seconds. “Uh?”

“Never mind.”

There’s an awkward silence, and your eyes slide to the fried chicken. “Do you want to eat first?”

He takes a sip of his own bubble tea, making the silence stretch until you feel like disappearing through the floor. He probably does it on purpose, just to unsettle you. It’s so long you look back at him, an eyebrow raised in annoyance.

“Sure,” he finally says, and he offers you the shit-eating grin he usually uses to piss you off.

Your brows are a little furrowed as you look at him for a few seconds, annoyed, before you finally move to where you left the food on the ground. You sit cross-legged, ignoring Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you as you put the bubble tea down next to you and open the box of fried chicken. Jungkook hasn’t moved, and you roll your eyes as you glance at him.

“What are you waiting for?” you ask. You sound just as annoyed as you feel, and it only doubles up when he looks at the floor with an eyebrow cocked.

“You expect me to eat on the floor?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Last I checked, there’s no table in the room.”

“We can go to the cafeteria.”

Your shake your head, lips stretched in an upside-down smile. “Just.” You motion at a vague spot next to you. “Just fucking sit and eat.”

“Why don’t you want to go to the cafeteria?” he asks, and he takes a long sip of bubble tea as you just glare at him. “Are you ashamed that you asked for my help?”

There it is. The teasing glint in his eyes. It’s the same as last week, and the same you have been used to for what now, eight years? It makes his eyes sparkle, a little innocently, though you know the reason behind is not innocent at all. No, if Jungkook has a little angel and a little demon on his shoulders, he’s been listening to the little demon since you’ve known him.

“You’re making me regret asking you for help,” you complain, biting down on your tongue to keep the ‘asshole’ that wanted to follow your sentence.

He’s smiling now, bright and happy. “Then I’ll just go.”

He makes no move towards the door though, and you just raise your eyebrows. “Alright. Go.”

He surveys you for a time, as if gauging if he can actually go. He pouts a little, and you frown, looking away from him. You grab the sauces you got with the chicken, opening the lids of each of them to busy yourself. You don’t want to look like you want him to stay.

You reckon you don’t actually want him to stay. You wish you could get help from anyone else but dreadful times call for drastic measures, uh?

“Damn,” he says, and he chuckles, before finally walking towards you. He sits on the other side of the box, but he makes no move towards the chicken for now. “You’re really that desperate?”

Your eyes shoot to him, and you hope he feels the blade of the daggers they hold. “Can we just be professional for once?”

“I’ll be professional if you promise not to ask me why I left the crew,” he says, falling so serious you almost get whiplash.

You have considered it, you won’t lie. But it’s not like it matters anyway, especially not now that the crew has finally accepted to be six instead of seven.

“I don’t give a shit as to why you left the crew,” you let out flatly, before taking a bite of chicken.

It’s savoury, with just enough crunch to make your little monkey brain go haywire. It’s almost enough to make you forget that you are currently alone in a room with the person you dislike the most out there.

Jungkook seems surprised by your comment, and you think there’s a flash of disappointment on his features, but it disappears too quickly for you to analyse. Instead, he frowns, before scoffing as he shakes his head. “Is that why you were such a bitch about it last week?”

“Did you come here to call me a bitch or to create a choreography?”

Your outburst is loud and unexpected, both to you and him. His eyes just widen, and he raises his hands as if to show he’s not dangerous. “Woah, calm down.”

It’s probably the worst thing to tell you whenever you’re angry, but even as you see red you bite down on some chicken again. Keeping your mouth occupied is the only thing you can do right now to keep yourself from blowing up in his face. Considering you really do need his help, that is.

“You are not a bitch,” Jungkook says. He scoffs again, and his eyes drop to the chicken in your hands. “You acted like one, there’s a nuance.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Am I the law student here or is that you?”

“Is that a compliment?”

He’s annoying. A prick, a pain in the ass, an asshole and everything in between. Especially as he just starts smirking, as if he knows he’s struck the right chord.

“Somebody fucking kill me right now,” you grumble as you look up to the ceiling.

There’s nothing up there to save you from Jeon Jungkook, so you let your gaze drop back to his face. He’s looking at you, features set in a calm mask, and it takes you by surprise. He looks different like this, more mature. More like the adult that he is now, and less like the sixteen year-old you met back then.

He sighs, before grabbing a piece of fried chicken with his free hand. He dips it in sauce, before taking a bite. He chews for a few seconds, and then swallows it down with a sip of banana bubble tea. You’re not sure the flavours go well together, but he doesn’t seem to care as he just dives in for another bite.

You echo his sigh with one of your own, and then you start to eat too. The meal is surprisingly spent in silence. You think it’s supposed to be uncomfortable, but for some reason sitting across from Jeon Jungkook while eating fried chicken is anything but uncomfortable. Strange, that’s for sure, but you don’t feel awkward.

Maybe it’s because he’s rarely this silent, and your soul is singing to the gods above in thanks for the peace.

And then you realize you might have more than gods to thank. Because Jungkook really is professional. He came with ideas for songs you could use, and for most of them he’s already thought up parts of choreographies. You don’t know how his brain does it, and you’re a little amazed for a time. You don’t let it show, because God forbid Jeon Jungkook and his oversized ego know that you think something positive about him, but you really are impressed with him.

And a lot more thankful than you’d ever dare to say.

One thing you notice though, as Jungkook shows you some moves, is that he doesn’t dance like he used to. There’s something a little mechanical with the way his body moves, as if he’s a machine that’s missing a little bit of oil.

Maybe even a lot.

He’s halfway through his idea for the third song he suggested when you notice him half-assing a leg move that you’ve seen him doing to perfection a hundred times before. He stops as his eyes fall shut, and darkness takes over his features. You’re a little taken aback, as you stand next to him, and you look at him in the mirror.

It takes him almost a good thirty seconds before he opens his eyes again. “Sorry.”

If he hadn’t been so professional in the last hour, you probably would have given him shit, just because that’s how you and Jeon Jungkook work. But right now, all you can think to say is, “Is something wrong?”

He meets your gaze in the mirror. His is heavy, sad, and it makes him look exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept in a few months, and you realize maybe he hasn’t.

Maybe he really has a good reason as to why he disappeared from the dance crew in February last year.

“I’m out of practice,” he says flatly. It’s a lie and he’s not a good liar. As soon as the words are out he looks down, pulling at his piercing.

“We can go with the first choreography,” you say tentatively after a moment of silence. “I think it’s the one that’ll work the best considering everyone’s strength.” He slowly nods, but he remains silent.

And you’re right. The one he’s showing you right now would have been good to make him shine on stage, but he’s not going to be there.

“Okay,” he lets out after he sighed loudly. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

You purse your lips, eyes still boring into his forehead. His hair is falling in front of his eyes, and he seems as if he’s fighting demons standing there. You turn towards him, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze. It fails miserably, but you still say, “Are you okay?”

It breaks him out of his trance. He scoffs, glancing at you once before holding his head up high and running his hands through his hair. “Don’t act like you care.”

It takes you aback, and you just stare at him without even blinking for a little while. He’s right, you don’t care, so why are you asking?

It’s your turn to scoff, and you furrow your eyebrows as you turn away from him to face the mirror again. “Okay,” you mutter. “Sorry for trying to treat you like a decent human being. I forgot you’re an asshole for a moment there.”

You realize the insult is out a long time after you’ve finished your sentence. Actually, you only realize because Jungkook finally looks at you again, but only to glare. His brows are knit together on his forehead, and you notice his clenched fists at his side.

“You know what, I think I’m done for tonight,” he says. He chuckles bitterly. “Let’s see what the crew does when you come up to them with half a choreography because you can’t even create one.”

You would have apologized if he hadn’t said that second part. Now, all you want to do is punch a hole in his face. “Are you fucking serious? Do you need me to beg on my knees for your help?”

He smiles, but there’s no warmth. Just contempt, and it’s a disgusting look on Jeon Jungkook’s features. “Yeah, get on your knees.” He adds your name, saying it like it’s an insult, before continuing, “Let’s see what you fucking look like when you beg on your knees.”

It makes you want to throw up, and you just turn your back to him as you walk to where you left the empty containers of fried chicken and sauce. You gather them up with shaky hands, before straightening. You reckon your whole body is shaking, as it usually does when you’re really angry. The kind of angry that makes you want to murder people, and surprisingly enough, it’s the kind of angry only Jungkook and your mom have ever succeeded at getting out of you.

It’s an ugly feeling you don’t like, and for that reason you storm out of the room, not even caring to see if Jungkook is following. No, all you can think of is that you need a breather, some fresh air to cool down the boiling of your blood. Otherwise you might just kill Jungkook, and you don’t think you have the energy to hide a body at the moment.

You make it all the way to the evening world outside before Jungkook actually calls your name behind you.

You swirl around, and one of the containers fall to the ground. For some reason it makes you even angrier, and you just throw the rest of them next to it. It makes you feel incredibly stupid, and you’re bending down to pick them back up when Jungkook says, “I’m sorry I said that”.

You finish picking the trash up, before straightening. “I don’t give a shit about your little fucking apology. I’d rather shoot myself than spend another fucking second in your presence. Just leave, and please never come back.”

He doesn’t move, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I can finish the choreography and give it to Hobi.”

“Just do that, I don’t care,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

He slowly nods but he still doesn’t move. It occurs to you that he does look apologetic, as if he wants to go back in time and erase what just happened.

“Why are you still looking at me?” you ask, but some of the fight in you is starting to dissolve, leaving you feeling exhausted.

“I just…” he trails off, and he scratches at the nape of his neck before letting his hand fall at his side again. “I’m just really sorry, that was disgusting of me.”

“I already said I don’t care, Jeon”, you say through gritted teeth. “You just reminded me why I hate you so much, so thanks for the wake-up call. Just give Hobi the choreography and leave me the fuck alone.”

“But…”

“There’s no but,” you interject before he can say more, and your voice is shrill, high-pitched. You probably sound crazy, and you sigh deeply as you remember that you’re out in the street and that anyone can hear you. As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure the guy walking on the other side of the street just turned to look at you curiously, attracted to drama the way moths are attracted to a flame.

Jungkook falls silent. For good this time. He just nods, and he digs his hands in his pockets. He holds your fiery gaze for a few seconds longer, and then his gaze just drops to the ground as he starts walking away.

If you cared about him more, now would probably be the time that you say his name and apologize. But you’ve never cared about him, so you watch him go, satisfied to know you’ve won this argument.

It’s childish and petty, but Jeon Jungkook really does bring out the worst in you.

Once his form is out of view, you move back into the building to throw away the containers. It takes you all but thirty seconds before you’re out again, and you grab your phone to ask Jiho to come over.

[8:41 pm] You: i’m about to commit murder or arson or both😤 [8:41 pm] You: can u come over to diss Jungkook with me🫠

Jiho’s answer only comes later that night, when you’re positively cooled down, lying in bed as you watch your favourite anime.

[11:23 pm] Jiho❣️: sry, didn’t see this before, i was at my uncle’s

You pause your episode, before moving to your messaging app.

[11:23 pm] You: it’s fine, i feel better now😶 [11:23 pm] You: he was a fkg asshole tonight [11:25 pm] Jiho❣️: WAIT [11:25 pm] Jiho❣️: wtf did i miss [11:25 pm] Jiho❣️: what were u doing with jk🤨 [11:25 pm] Jiho❣️: why didn’t u tell me u were gonna see him [11:26 pm] You: uuuuuuuuuuuuh😅

You press send, and you laugh as Jiho almost immediately calls you.

“What the fuck” is the first thing that she tells you as you put your phone against your ear, quickly followed by, “Are you having a fever? Why were you with JK?”

You wince, and you shrug your shoulders even though she can’t see you. “I asked him to help with the choreography for Hobi.”

“You bitch!” Jiho bursts out. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you just tell Hobi you were struggling?”

You laugh, and it really helps to forget your anger towards Jungkook. “I’ve got some pride, you know? I really wanted to be able to bring something to dance practice tomorrow.”

And then you go on to tell her everything that happened, and to your surprise, she laughs at Jungkook’s comment.

“What’s funny?” you grumble.

“Girl,” she says in between two fits of laughter. “You opened that door so wide. He’s Jeon Jungkook, of course he was going to jump on it and say something like that.”

You reckon she’s right. Jungkook really is the kind of cocky guy that thinks he can just say anything without any consequences.

“Right,” you mumble. Your phone vibrates against your ear, and you put Jiho on speaker mode to see who texted you. You choke on your saliva as Jungkook’s unsaved number is now at the top of your texting app. “Jesus fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jiho asks.

“He texted me.”

She’s laughing again, and maybe Jungkook is not the one you’ll need to murder after all. “What did he say?” she eventually asks once she’s calmed down.

[11:34 pm] unsaved number: just letting u know that hobi asked me to be there at dance practice tmrw

You repeat the text out loud for Jiho, who hums pensively. “Damn, is JK really going to be our choreographer now?”

You’re not surprised she’s jumped to that conclusion. You have too, and you saw it coming the moment you told him to talk to Hobi.

“I am never coming back to dance practice if that is the case.”

“Oh come on,” Jiho lets out. “Nobody cares about Jungkook. We can’t lose you too.”

She’s not wrong. Losing another member would completely annihilate the crew, and you’ve been part of it for way too long to ever consider leaving. It’s part of you now, and it’s been so for so long you think you’d probably die if you left.

Or at least turn into a very bitter version of yourself.

You’re about to go to sleep, a while after you’ve hung up with Jiho, when you finally decide to reply to Jungkook. Only because you don’t want him to be too much of a little shit tomorrow.

[12:58 am] You: ayt lol, sry about earlier

You don’t know why you apologize. You just do it because it feels like the right thing to do. The “be the bigger person” kind of thing to do, and now that you’ve talked to Jiho, you feel like you can actually be that person. That, or maybe it’s the fact it’s been long enough since you saw Jungkook that you don’t quite feel like murdering him anymore.

[1:05 am] unsaved number: no worries:) i was a dick

Your phone lights up on your night stand but you feel too tired to check it out. As if being the bigger person takes too much energy. Maybe it does, and you’re asleep before you receive the next text.

[1:09 am] unsaved number: i hope u like the rest of the choreography😌

Prev | Next

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Ooooof when will they stop fighting uh? Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!

Taglist (strikethrough means tumblr isn't letting me tag you my bad):

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sareenademon · 1 year ago

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Bi Han and The Dog He Said He Never Wanted

Sareena: Beloved! Look at what I found! He was all alone at the market.Isn’t he adorable?!

*Sareena shows him a Maltese puppy. The puppy starts yapping excitedly and Bi Han looks disgusted.*

Bi Han: Take it back Sareena.

Sareena: Bi Han! Don’t be mean!

Bi Han: We are not keeping that little beast.

They did end up keeping him much to Bi Han’s dismay. He was not an animal lover and he told Sareena that the puppy was entirely her responsibility. He would not care for it.

Sareena tried to name the puppy Snowball. Bi Han couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

Bi Han: We’re not calling him that.

Sareena: Why not? It’s cute.

Bi Han: No.

Sareena: What about Fluffy?

Bi Han: Are you serious? Absolutely fucking not.

Sareena: Then what ideas do you have?

Bi Han: How about, Runt?

Sareena: *slaps his arm* …What about…Fang? After my demon fang swords.

Bi Han: Fang…Fine, whatever.

For a couple of nights the puppy irritated him to no end. It wouldn’t stop yapping. Day and night. It was so god damn needy too. It shit everywhere. Bi Han also became jealous of the little beast because it took up most of Sareena’s attention.

One night, he had enough. He was already sleep deprived, and now this puppy was barking at 3 am in the morning. He grabbed the puppy out of his crate and screamed at him to shut up. When little Fang started whining from fear Bi Han immediately felt like shit.

Wtf was he doing? Screaming at little animals. He quickly tried to quiet Fang so that Sareena wouldn’t wake up and bitch him out for upsetting him. He instinctively cradled the fluffy puppy in his arms, trying to get him to stop trembling. He gently stroked Fang’s head.

Fang was so tiny, so fragile. As Bi Han looked into the puppy’s big eyes, he felt his cold heart begin to melt.

Bi Han: Shhh…Don’t fear little Fang…I won’t harm you…

When Fang licked his fingers, that was it. That was his baby. That was his son. His precious Fang, Fang.

Sareena found him the next morning passed out on the couch with Fang sleeping on his chest.

The first thing Bi Han did the next day was buy him a expensive new blue collar, he had the Lin Kuei symbol put on it.

Sareena: I thought you didn’t like him.

Bi Han: If we’re going to keep this little beast then he must be properly trained.

Sareena: And the fancy collar?…

Bi Han: Don’t question my decisions, woman!

Bi Han is a pretty intense guy by nature and that transfers into his dog parenting.

Bi Han took it upon himself to train Fang. He put him on a strict food and training schedule. He also researched all about puppies and how to train them.

Also put Fang on a cook food diet.

Sareena: Why can’t we just feed him dog food?

Bi Han: You want to feed him that dehydrated crap?! I thought you cared about this dog!

He teaches Fang how to sit, roll over, fetch, shake, and play dead. He’s such a proud father.

Fang becomes like his emotional support dog. Whenever he has a hard day or he’s just pissed off, he calls over his puppy for comfort.

When he’s stuck doing paperwork, he likes to have Fang on his lap to keep him company.

He gets him groomed regularly and cleans his eyes daily. No crusty eyes for his puppy.

It gets really cold in Artika so Bi Han makes sure to bundle Fang up. Fang has a collection of little jackets and sweaters. He also has booties. Sareena finds it a bit silly and can’t help but laugh whenever she sees Bi Han putting booties on Fang.

Bi Han: Don’t laugh at him, it’s to protect his paws from the snow!

He doesn’t take Fang to the dog park anymore because he thinks the other dogs play too rough with him.

He started shouting at the other dog owner and Sareena has had to drag him out of there before he started throwing hands.

Aggressively overprotective over Fang. Once Tomas accidentally stepped on his paw and Bi Han was on poor Tomas like white on rice.

#sareena #bi han #sub zero #bireena #mortal komat 1 #tomas vrbada #kuai liang

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carolmunson · 3 months ago

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orange colored sky-verse

It had been a few long weeks. Work was brutal, you felt like it had been around the clock. Wake up, work, sleep, in that order again and again — even weekends. Your eyes were swollen at this point, your cheeks hurt, your chest hurt from the anxiety. You felt sick, maybe from lack of three square meals, maybe dehydration — you weren’t sure. But you were in between meetings and running an errand, food shopping, at the same place you met.

You get stuck staring at the flowers at the entrance, a weak half smile tugging at your face. Tears pool in your eyes and you blink them away. You don’t know why the flowers are making you emotional — maybe you’re just tired.

“Which ones do you want?” he asks, next to you now that he sees you’re not following him.

“Huh? No, I don’t need any flowers,” you shrug.

“I didn’t ask for the flowers you need, Peach,” he says, lacing his fingers in yours, “I asked which ones you want.”

You turn to look at him, eyes a little glassy, and he tilts his curly head toward to bouquets to encourage you. His hand unlaces and pulls you in from the waist to wrap an arm around you in a cozy quick side hug. You reach for the orange spray roses, and then the pink.

“You like both?” he asks.

“I’m trying to pick which one I like more.”

“What’re you thinking?”

“The orange,” you hum, delicately picking up the small set in their wrapping.

“Good,” he smiles, “I like the pink ones more, so I’ll get those, too.”

With a kiss to your forehead he puts both bouquets in his basket, “Why don’t you do the little list and I’ll do the big list, okay?”

You nod in a silent thank you, kissing his cheek, but a little embarrassed by the PDA. When you ring out you can’t find him, but when your cell connects to the WiFi you get a text letting you know he’ll meet you at home. You’re a little deflated, but home sounds good and you don’t have nearly as many things to carry.

But when you get there, he’s beat you to it, and next to him at the kitchen island is a vase full of spray roses, and eucalyptus, and babies breath, and a couple other flowers you can’t pin point but he probably got them at a different shop on the way home.

“It’s not as pretty as you, of course,” he goofily explains, “But I — I dunno, just thought it would make you smile a little.”

The pain in your cheeks and the heaviness in your eyes doesn’t fade, but the ache in your chest turns warm and delicate — gooey and mushy. No matter how hard it really gets, he’s always there when you come home — because that’s what he is for you.

#carol is over worked and underpaid and has been crying for a couple weeks but she writes her old man to soothe the pain #anyway i went to trader Joe’s today

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just-wrting · 1 year ago

Text

Undercover

Title: Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Working on a case, leads to you and Hotch pretending to be a couple to lure out an unsub. While you're aware of the impact it has on your crush, you're unaware of the impact it has on Hotch.

Word Count: 4892

Master List

A/N: This has been my longest sitting Hotch draft so I sat down today and wrote this! It only took me a few hours cause I couldn't stop watching Criminal Minds while writing this. This is also so that people who aren't enjoying the Babysitter series a break. This was also gonna have smut but I want sleep more than that.

You had lots of feelings about Hotch. As your boss, he was good at his job. He was usually level-headed, calm, and direct. He did well in a leadership role and was able to command the team well. On top of that, his voice was smooth and his hands warm. He took good care of everyone, even you. That led to your biggest issue with your job at the BAU, you had started to develop a crush on your boss.

The gentle sound of papers rustling is what makes you realize that you’re not alone. You’ve managed to zone out while on the plane. Thankfully it’s in the last part of the trip, the part where you all mostly read the files on your own and tried to piece things together.

Emily slides back into her seat next to you and pushes a cup toward you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you have a single thing to drink on this flight.”

You take a sip from the cup and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I tend to be a little squished into the seat by the window and don’t want to interrupt someone’s thoughts. I know no one’s going to be mad, but I’d rather not risk something that could be important.”

“Dehydration will just make it harder for you to focus, (Y/N). Granted the effects take much longer to set in, but the average adult doesn’t drink nearly enough water.”

You look over the table at Reid. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind before I choose my coffee.”

“You sure it’s a cup of coffee you’ll be choosing? I’ve seen you with more soda in your hand than coffee.”

You shake your head at Morgan before looking back at the files in your hand. Morgan had been right. Maybe not about the soda but about the fact that no matter how many cases you did, it wasn’t any easier. Each victim was someone that could no longer be saved. They all had a family that wanted them back, and there was nothing you could do.

—

Once you had landed, Hotch sent you with Morgan to go look at the crime scene. It is your least favorite task, not to mention your weak stomach after a flight, you don’t like looking at the blood longer than you have to. Thankfully, Morgan is good at keeping you calm and is willing to check on rooms first. He’ll always give you a warning, your own little one-to-five scale, on how bad the room was.

“The bodies were found still in bed. The neighbors said they didn’t hear anything so maybe the first thing he did was make sure they couldn’t scream.”

You nod as Morgan walks around the bed. “Based on trauma on the head I’d go with at least one woke up. The husband had an indent on the back of his head. Given that there wasn’t anything left at the crime scene, the killer took it with him.”

“Okay so, the unsub gets into the house and comes upstairs to the couple sleeping. Maybe he makes a noise or something. Husband wakes up and the unsub hits him so he stays quiet.”

“What about the wife? I’ve heard men are deeper sleepers so wouldn’t she have woken up? Plus this isn’t the first murder. Wouldn’t the unsub know better than to make noises?”

“Maybe he killed the wife first. The blood or the smell could’ve woken the husband. Maybe even the wife moving before she died woke him up. It didn’t take him long to kill both of them. Time of death for both was around 3 am.”

“If he was done with the wife, why not just kill the husband right away? Why bother knocking him out?”

With that, Morgan shrugs and looks at you. “I don’t know. Maybe it was easier. All I know is that there isn’t much else here.”

“Do you think this couple was having fun?”

Morgan blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Well for starters, there’s not much in here to suggest that they had intimacy. Besides the blood, this bedroom looks like it was set up for a showing. There are no pictures of them together besides a wedding photo. I doubt you’d find sexual items in here.”

Morgan gave the room a once-over. “I guess so. A loveless marriage that didn’t even have kids. I wonder what kept them together.”

—

“So we’ve got multiple couples murdered. They all have their similarities. The men all have some sort of desk job and made decent money. The wives all did some sort of work with people. For example, wife number one was a teacher, and wife number two was a tour guide for the museum. Beyond that, they didn’t have any other things in common. No common places they went or people they knew.”

Morgan held open the door for you. “Actually, I don’t think any of them had kids. Where are the crime scene photos?”

Emily hands you a file that you pop open and show to Morgan. “They all seem to be set up the same. All master bedrooms with the victims inside on the bed.”

As you flip through them, you start to feel queasy. The pictures still contain the bodies in their posed positions on the bed. The walls and furniture are covered in blood. You do your best to pull your eyes from the bodies. You want to look at what was in the rooms.

“It’s the same in these. There are no signs of love or a happy couple. Not a photo besides the wedding one.”

Hotch gives you a glance and you hold out the file. “What do you think this could mean?”

“Well, maybe it’s all staged. The photo happens to be on the wives’ side of the bed and they all happen to sleep on the right side. While that may happen to be the most common side for the wife to sleep on, it’s all preference. They’re posed in a way that makes them look like they’re in a mattress commercial.”

“So the unsub could be acting out a fantasy with the couples. But what sort of fantasy could it be? He’s not pretending to be the husband, there’s no sexual aspect to it,” Rossi wonders while he rubs his chin.

Emily takes the files back from you. “Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe he doesn’t do well with women or doesn’t have a stable job.”

You awkwardly let your hand fall to your side. Hotch is being a little colder than usual today, but you can’t let it bother you. Just because you want the little “thank you” in his eyes when you hand him something, doesn’t mean anything. You just want what everyone wants. You want his approval.

—

“(Y/N).”

Hotch says your name for what is probably the tenth time. You are too lost in thought to notice the other times, but now you look up. You meet his eyes as he tries to pass you a cup of coffee. Scrambling to move the files around, you shoved the papers around until you had a small space for the cup.

“Thanks! I was sure I was going to have to use all these files to take a nap,” you joked. “Nothing like sitting here and looking through papers to make me excited.”

Hotch raises a brow. “Find anything yet?”

You give a sigh. “Nope. Unlike Reid, I can’t read super fast or remember everything. Going through paperwork feels like hell, but at least today I had a savior to bring me my coffee.”

You make eye contact with Hotch and give him a soft smile. You are so happy that he looks out for you. It makes you feel special, even if you know he does it for everyone. You know that it is stupid, but every little nice thing he does gives you butterflies.

Hotch gives a chuckle. “I get to be your savior? Just for bringing you a coffee?”

“Mhm. You tend to be there when I need something so why shouldn’t I call you my savior?”

He shoots you a quick smile as Morgan walks in behind him. “You don’t say things like that because I’m here to tease you, (Y/N). If Hotch is your savior what do I get to be?”

“You, Derek Morgan, can be my one and only nuisance. Only you tease me about the little things.”

Clearing his throat, Hotch asks, “Find anything yet?”

“Well if by anything you really mean anything then yeah. I found a bunch of random things that make no sense and have no use. If you meant anything by useful, then no, I have nothing. I did come up with a few more ideas about our unsub though.”

Hotch gives you a nod to keep going, while Morgan leans against the door frame. “Well, the first murder doesn’t differ from the others. Normally it's the one where they develop a pattern but there isn’t anything out of place.”

“So perhaps this isn’t his first murder,” Morgan says.

You shake your head. “There’s no other murders in the area that match. It might be his first kill but it’s not his first violent act. Not to mention I thought it was odd that he focused on hurting the men more than the women. Perhaps he had an issue with his parents. Or resentment towards a male figure in his life.”

“Like a child of divorce or perhaps an abusive father.” This time Hotch acknowledges what you are saying. “He might even have a record for aggressive and violent behavior.”

“Well we can have Garcia look into that but right now we don't have much else to go on. Besides knowing the unsub is only half the battle. We need to know what connects the victims. Where could he have met or seen all of these people? There has to be a place or a person that connects all the victims.”

You choose to let Hotch glance at the files on top while you down your coffee as fast as you can. You don’t want to be a downer on the fact that Morgan is right, but you’re starting to feel tired. You aren’t sure if you could handle even another five minutes staring at paperwork.

“Do you think that figuring that out can wait? I mean everyone else is still doing their interviews on the families. That could bring something to the table.” You set the empty cup on the table. “Besides, if I have to look at another file in the next ten minutes I might go nuts.”

Hotch gives you a soft smile. “Sure. How about you go and take a break? Actually, if you don’t mind, maybe you could get something for the team to eat when they get back while we go over the information. I doubt most of them have had lunch yet.”

You stand and stretch. “Absolutely! I’d do almost anything to get out of this stuffy room with all of this paper.”

“Hey cupcake, get me some good coffee while you’re out,” Morgan gives a cheeky grin. “Oh and maybe a donut, since you’re not giving me enough sweetness.”

You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your little tech goddess wouldn’t be happy with you shooting words like that at someone else. So tone it down, Muscle Man.”

Morgan puts his hand to his heart and makes a fake groan. His silly little act makes you giggle. You know it's all jokes, but you can’t help smiling at it. Morgan always knows how to lighten the mood.

“Hotch did you want anything in particular? Since Morgan’s trying to boss me around with his orders, I figured the real boss should have a say in what I get him.” Your hand rests on the doorway. “Feel free to send me a text about it.”

You turn and walk out the door before Hotch or Morgan can say anything else. You can feel your heart race. Telling Hotch to text you feels so personal despite it not being personal at all. To make matters worse, you hear your phone chime with the ringtone you have set for Hotch.

Despite wanting to look at it right away, you choose to wait until you get into one of the vehicles. You feel like if you look while still in the building, it’ll give away your feelings. It's bad enough that Emily gives you crap about it, Morgan would be a nightmare. Besides you don’t trust him to not slip up and spill it.

Thankfully the coffee shop isn’t far, no more than a ten minute drive, and it gives you time to think. As much as you’d like to avoid thinking about the case, you know you should. That and it’s subconscious at this point. Almost every waking moment on a case is spent thinking about the case.

There’s only so many places that people could have in common. Only one family was religious so that rules out church. They didn’t have any of the same sort of hobbies or even work near each other. The only thing they had in common was budget. Similar houses and similar cars made it easy to spot, and Garcia checked on their credit.

After placing the order, you aren’t even sure how you’ll carry that much coffee into the precinct, you take a seat and people watch. It’s nothing special, a few students studying, a mom and child planning on how to best utilize play time, and a younger couple are all that occupy the tables.

The couple appears to be getting along, and you made note of how badly you wanted a coffee date. That’s when a thought occurs. What if the couples had gone on a date? You remember reading about a case that involved a couple murdering to respark their love after a marriage counselor suggested finding something like that.

After making sure that your order is correct and strapping it firmly into the car, you call Garcia. The Bluetooth connects in the car and within seconds Garcia picks up.

“BAU tech genius at your service!”

You smile as you reply, “My tech genius, are you able to see what purchases the couples made the days before their deaths?”

“Do kittens have whiskers? Of course I can. What am I looking for?”

“Can you see if they all went to the same restaurant? My hunch is that since most of them were seeing counselors that resparking romance was suggested so they might have tried to have a romantic date.”

The keyboard clicks away. “I’ll look into it. Now I hope you don’t mind but I’ve got officer sexy calling me so I need to let you go.”

You laugh. “Just make sure if he asks you to do what I’m having you do, tell him it was my idea first.”

“Will do, sugar. Bye!”

With a click, Garcia is gone. You know by the time you get back to the precinct, she’ll have your answer. Which will be amazing since the faster you solve this case the faster you can go back to smothering your feelings.

It’s not that you hate the fact that you have a crush on Hotch. It just makes your job hard. Standing next to him makes your heart pound and when he smiles at you, you know you’re in deep. Not to mention how gentle and warm his hands are, despite being calloused, when he checks you over for injuries.

Thankfully, by the time you walk into the precinct, everyone else is there. J.J. and Ried help you bring everything in. As you pass out the food, Morgan puts Garcia on speaker.

“Alrighty. I looked into an idea that (Y/N) had and struck gold. Almost literally. All of the couples did in fact go on a fancy schmancy date to a place called the Golden Roast the day before they were found murdered.”

“What made you have the idea to look into that?” Morgan asks. “How did you figure it out?”

You glance at Morgan before continuing to unwrap the sandwich in front of you. “Well, multiple of the couples had marriage counselors and I’ve heard that one of the things they tell couples is to try and find that romantic spark. Going on a fancy romantic dinner date seems like it would be a good idea.”

“A place that like that may want us to bring a warrant. We can go and look but we should still have some sort of backup plan given that we don’t have much to go on to find the unsub,” Ried says as he eats his food.

“So let’s have two people go undercover. We send two other people in to talk to the staff about the couples. The undercover couple acts like the victims and we can use them to lure out the unsub.”

You raise your eyebrow at Morgan. Sure, sending people undercover would be the fastest way to find the unsub but that didn’t stop the fact that apparently one person alone murdered two people. Something about it was still bothering you.

“So, we send two people undercover to pretenc like they’re married. Who do we send?” you ask.

Emily gives you a sly smile. “Since you’re asking who’s going, why not you? Pick someone out.”

You quickly realize what she’s up to. “Maybe you should go since you’re avoiding it. Afraid the tension will be too much for you?”

Rossi nods his head. “Well since (Y/N) is going undercover for practically the first time why don’t we send someone seasoned? I’m far too old to pretend to be their husband, but perhaps Hotch could.”

You nearly choke on your coffee at his words. It sounds like a poor plan, granted you wouldn’t mind playing Hotch’s wife, you didn’t want to argue with him. Everyone else seems to be in agreement on the plan, and your fate is sealed.

—

The fancy clothes feel constricting and you do your best to not touch your hair. The atmosphere is far too romantic for you, and you feel so nervous. It takes all of your willpower to stay on task and not just admire how absolutely hot Hotch is.

“Do you know what you plan on ordering?” Hotch asks. “Or are you going to look at the menu all night?”

His voice is a little harsh and it pulls you back to reality. You need to get on his nerves and pick at everything he does. Or at least that’s what Morgan told you after talking to the staff.

“Well, maybe if you knew that this place isn’t what I like, I wouldn’t have such a hard time picking something to eat.”

The waiter offers you a glass of wine and you decline. The one that seems to come preset with the table is going to be hard enough to pretend to drink, and you don’t need more of it on the table. You can hear the murmur of other couples, and you realize that an argument would definitely draw the unsub to you.

“How am I supposed to know what you like? You don’t talk to me much.”

“Maybe if you weren’t married to your job, Aaron, I’d have time to talk to you.”

His gaze is icy and you know that hits a nerve. You’ve both heard before in a relationship. It’s what your job brings. You feel bad about it, but you know this has to be realistic.

The conversation between you and Hotch simmers down as the waiter takes your order. You take the time to scan the restaurant looking for a possible clue. No one sticks out, and you return your eyes to Hotch.

“You know that work keeps me busy. I have a lot of paperwork and it keeps me at the office late.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Sure it’s not one of those pretty little ladies at the office?”

Hotch clenches his fist. “Are you accusing me of something?”

You meet his eyes. You’re doing your best to be convincing as an angry wife. It seems to be working, as a couple of tables are doing their best to look at the two of you. Hotch’s gaze remains cold, and you don’t like it.

“I didn’t say anything. Why are jumping to conclusions if you have nothing to hide?”

You trace the rim of the wine glass. Hotch’s eyes follow your hand as you do this, watching as you pretend to drink. The waiter jumps at the chance to bring you your meal.

The entire meal is silent. You watch each other over the candle light, and you make note about how nervous that makes you. Crossing a romantic candle lit dinner off the bucket list is happening, and its strictly for the firehazard.

“Since you aren’t replying, I’m going to assume you have something to hide.”

Hotch’s fork clatters against plate. “I don’t have anything to hide. Can you stop jumping to conclusions for one dinner? I’m trying to make this work.”

You make a face and push your plate away. “I think I’ve lost my appetite, thanks. Can we hurry this up, please?”

Hotch waves the waiter over and takes care of the check. You watch as his jaw unclenches, and you really want to kiss him. The romantic dinner may help you catch the unsub, but you know it’s making your crush worse.

—

The car ride to the sheriff’s house is silent for the first few minutes. You are making sure to face away from Hotch due to a bit of a hunch. There was a few people who had bumped into you and Hotch. If one of those people is the unsub, they could’ve left some sort of bug.

“(Y/N)? I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off. “Save it, Aaron. I need some space to calm down. Talking about it isn’t going to help.”

He looks shocked, but keeps driving. At a stop sign, he glances over at you and you give a small smile. You mouth ‘I’ll explain to you later’.

—

You know that you don’t have the bug. You make sure to gently touch the areas that you had been bumped, carefully feeling for any sort device. There’s nothing there, and you know you’ll have to check Hotch. Just how to do it without letting the unsub know.

“You’re right, Aaron. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. Here. Let me take your jacket.”

You move closer to him. You slide your hand up under his jacket and up over his shoulder. Hotch is too shocked to stop you and you are able to successfully pull his jacket off. Hidden under the collar is a little device.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, Aaron? I’m just trying to have some intimacy. It’s called make-up sex if I’m correct.”

“I don’t think-”

You huff. “Fine. I get it. Don’t forget to check your jacket for stuff in the pockets because I don’t want another incident like last time. I’m going to bed, Aaron.”

In the hallway, you start to panic. Did you take it too far? You know that the team could hear what you were saying and that thought makes you die a little inside. At least one of them will be giving you shit about it tomorrow.

—

You’ve been in bed for about four hours before you hear anything. Aaron is in bed next to you, a respectable distance away. The sound of a door creaking leads him to roll over to face you. His hand on your arm would be reassuring, if you didn’t happen to have a gun tucked under the pillow.

You both do your best to stay still as you wait for whoever it is to enter the bedroom. By now, the tem is most likely getting into position. None of the murders have been done with a gun, so you feel less nervous about the unsub entering the bedroom. Besides, Hotch has amazing aim.

The next noise is the bedroom door opening. Gentle footsteps enter the room and walk closer to the bed. Before a hand even reaches the sheets, Aaron shoots up. You grab your gun with one hand and flip on the light with the other.

A man stands at the foot of your bed holding a knife and baseball bat. With two guns trained on him, he’s frozen.

“Drop the weapons.”

The bat clatters to the ground and the unsub starts to back up. You know he’s about to make a dash for it.

“Don’t even think about it! One of us will shoot you before you can even make it through the doorway.”

You and Hotch get out of the bed. Within seconds, Hotch has the unsub pinned against the doorframe, the knife skittering across the hallway floor.

—

After that the case wraps up easily. The man caves easily as the submissive partner looking for the ideal romantic relationship with a woman who was using him to get rid of couples who argued at the restaurant, reminding her of her parents.

The plane ride is quiet. Most of the team seems asleep, and after double checking, you sit down next to Hotch. You slide him a cup of water and fold your hands on the table.

“About the things I said, I’m sorry. Most of it was stuff that my ex had said about me so I figured it would work.”

Hotch gives you a smile. “It’s alright. I also wanted to apologize. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. You’re a much better actor than I am. You played the part of a man who loved me and wanted to yell at me at the same time.”

“I wasn’t acting.”

This time it’s you who’s too stunned to speak. You open your mouth and then close it while staring at him.

“Acting about what?”

Hotch looks bashful. “About you. This case has officially made it clear that I have developed feelings for you. In fact, if you’d like, I would like to take you out for dinner properly.”

“I-I think I’d love that. Maybe later in the week. I could use some relaxing after this.”

Hotch unclasps your hands and holds them in his. You can feel your heart race, but give his hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you spend the rest of the plane trip in a comfortable silence, occasionally give each other smiles.

Once you land, you make your way to your car and slide into the driver’s seat. Turning the key leads to a sputter without much else. Of course having an amazing thing happen is immediately followed by something bad happening. Your bad luck stops there, as Hotch knocks on your window.

“Jack happens to be with a friend tonight, if you want to spend the night. Not that you have to of course.”

“I didn’t take you for the type of man that moves faster than Morgan,” you tease. “But in all seriousness that’s better than keeping you up longer than you need to be so you can take me home.”

“Helping the team is what I’m supposed to do. You aren’t a bother to me, (Y/N).”

“Aaron? Can I be honest for just a moment?” He nods as he takes your bag. “I’ve had feeling for you for sometime. Longer than I expected.”

He loads both duffle bags into the car. Just like a gentleman, Aaron holds your door open and closes it behind you. You’re tempted to try to hold his hand, but you let him focus on the road instead.

“Then I suppose I should be honest as well. This case might have been eyeopener, but if you talk to Rossi, I’ve been trying to avoid my feelings for. I just didn’t want it to affect you at work.”

You think back and try to remember if Aaron had shown any signs of liking you. Sure there had been times you had noticed him watching you, or the times he’d stand closer to you than other people would. They were all just subtle signs that as a profiler you should’ve noticed.

By the time you’ve connected all the dots, you’re in front of his place. Aaron lets you in, and sets about setting things down. This includes all the of the stuff you both have to wear as agents and your bags. Your grateful as he takes yours and sets them off to the side as well.

The two of you settle into the couch and curl up together as the TV plays some mindless show. You can’t focus on the TV with the sound of Aaron’s heartbeat in your ear. Not to mention the gentle rubbing of his hand on your arm. It’s hard to focus on anything but him.

The exhaustion hits you, and you find yourself dozing off. Aaron guides you off the couch and lets you fall into his bed. The last thing you process before you pass out is Aaron pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotch

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circle-with-me · 5 months ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY BB 😌🫶✨️ my thots for today are that Will totally has a birthday countdown for your special day: sets an alarm and absolutely wakes you up with his head between your thighs so you can start your day off right 🩷 oh...and one orgasm for every year so you better hydrate that weekend cause the boy will have no mercy K LOVE YOU BYEEEEEE ✌️😘

MA’AAAAAMMMMM the way this made my 🐱🦋 😂😂

i’m an old girl too. you’d have to set me up one of those hamster water bottle contraptions by the bed so i don’t dehydrate 💀

he is MERCILESS too. once he’s attached to you he isn’t stopping until you’re a shaking, convulsing, drooling, babbling mess. he doesn’t care if his jaw is hurting or he’s out of breath he has a job to do and that’s making sure his birthday girl is satisfied. like you said it’s all day/all weekend. he’s catching you in the shower, at the bathroom counter, the kitchen table, the sofa. he even gets you in the clothing section of your favorite store (because of course he takes you shopping). he’s pulling your pants down or pushing your skirt up, panties to the side right there behind the racks and you’re frantically dragging him into the dressing room so you’re not caught. once he gets you in there, all bets are off. he’s ripping your panties off (he’ll buy you new ones) and devouring you. he’s got you up against the wall with both of your legs over his shoulder and the only thing keeping you from falling is him holding onto you by the waist and you gripping onto his curls. you know everyone outside can hear the filthy noises he’s making between your thighs but you can’t bring yourself to care :)

K THANK YOU LOVE YOU SO MUCH BYEEEEEEE 💖💖💖💖💖

#sorry bb this got me feral #will ramos #will ramos x reader #will ramos is a munch!!!!!!!#will ramos headcanons

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kahlanmars · 1 year ago

Text

PAPER RINGS part. 7

The babies are baaaaack!

MASTERLIST

7. This is why we can't have nice things

You wake up in the morning with a bad headache and terrible nausea. You have to keep your eyes closed because the light is too heavy and the room won’t stop spinning. From the bed you can see you in the mirror of the makeup table and the vision you have is something else. Your hair is messy, your eyes look puffy and your skin is green, your lips are clearly dehydrated and your eyeshadows and lipstick are all over your face. Not your greatest look, but very capitol. The room is too bright and the light does not welcome you now.

«If you have to puke, puke on the right.»

On your left, with a rough voice there is Finnick Odair, as waisted as you if not more, that is looking at you with a suspicious look, ready to fly away if you really have to vomit. His arm is under your waist, and he tightens the grip when he realizes you are waking up.

Because last night was terrible and he doesn’t want you to cry again.

Haymitch, Perla, Lora, Effie. You messed up badly with every person you love. With your eyes closed you see the look on their faces again.

You could have survived without Haymitch thanks to Effie. You can’t survive without Haymitch and Effie.

Stupid girl, you survived the Hunger Games, you can do this again, your internal (mean) voice tells you, but you survived thanks to them, because of them. When you are alone you are at your lowest point.

«I have lost everyone.» You state, frightened. You miss human touch, you crave human touch.

«You still have me.» Finnick argues and you thank heaven for him. Quite the best friend he is, and you can go in the same category just because you saved his life once. He did it twice and more. He never judged you. He knows your deepest secrets and he never dared to judge anything.

«Everybody hates me.» You whisper, and you hide your face on his chest. You try not to sob, and you can’t because you don’t have water in your body, but your eyes are shinier now.

«Don’t be stupid, nobody hates you.» He strikes your hair. But he is lying, you are sure of it, you clearly remember Perla’s tone and Lora’s eyes.

«You don’t hate me.» You try to get up, but your body doesn’t want to cooperate. «Finnick, I’m not feeling too well.» You are aware you act like a child, but you can’t get up to take your medicine.

He touches your forehead and raises his eyebrows. «You are feverish.»

«Must be the alcohol, I don’t drink often. With Haymitch at home I don’t risk it. I… didn’t risk it.»

«You should sleep it away.» Going back to bed is tempting, but Effie can’t stand you and you can’t abuse her hospitality now. You were so happy to share a home with her. You just wished you did more of the things you always saw in the movies. Effie was a wreck and you were even worse, it has not been the best timing.

«I can’t sleep, Fin. I have to go to a hotel.»

«A hotel?»

«Yeah, Effie doesn’t want me home anymore. She doesn’t trust me anymore and you don’t want someone you don’t trust in your home.»

«I’ll talk to her.»

«No need.» Effie comes into the room and she hands you two a mug. She has makeup on again and her outfit is impeccable. And yet, you saw her dancing on the floor until morning. «I spent fifteen years taking care of an addict and I have no intention to repeat history, okay?»

You and Finnick look at her like guilty puppies, well known she is totally right. She usually is. «Okay.»

Miss Trinket sighs and she looks at you, still a little annoyed.

«Now. Daisy, can you tell me what you do during the day?»

«Excuse me?» You don’t understand.

«Last night it wasn’t you. I have a theory, I want to understand, so answer me.»

«Well, I get up, I make breakfast and lunch-»

«For me?» She seems sad and ashamed by it and this is not the result you wanted.

«For you, and sometimes for Portia. I go to work until six and a half p.m., I come home, I make dinner, I help you clean a little, we eat together and then I do the dishes and I work on the wedding dress until I fall asleep.»

«Where do you eat for lunch?»

«I eat an apple.» You start by saying it’s just a day, and then you go on and you suddenly tell yourself you don’t have time and you are not in the mood anyway, and it becomes a habit.

«Just an apple? Why? Daisy, you need to eat! And to sleep! You make lunch for Effie and Portia, why not for you?»

«Because this is Effie’s food and she already hosts me.» You explain. But it’s not just that, it’s something else and you can’t quite put the finger on it, you can’t say it. In District Twelve there is not such thing as using food to control something. Food is a necessity.

«My God, darling girl, I never said you couldn’t eat!»

«But you are miserable all the time and I didn’t want to be a burden!»

«You are not a burden. And what about your money?»

«Partly is for Holly, I want to repay her, partly is for the wedding because Haymitch doesn’t want a big one so I want to contribute, and partly is for you. I was going to start paying rent.»

«So you sleep for hours at night, you eat an apple and a dinner, and between the chores at home, the job and the wedding dress you work all day. What did you buy for yourself in your time at the Capitol?»

«Uhm, nothing?»

«What?»

«I have to save money! And I can do it.»

«You are burnt out.» She looks at you with her blue eyes so full of worrying. It must be a serious thing, but you have no idea what she is saying.

«What does it mean?» You ask her,

«You don’t know it? Don’t you go to Doctor Aurelius?»

You blush. You were supposed to keep going, but the doctor is in Thirteen and it’s fine when you are in Twelve, but now you are in the Capitol and you canceled a lot of meetings.

«I’m supposed to go, but I’m really busy here.»

«Daisy… oh, darling girl.» She shakes her head and she goes near you. «Finnick, dear, can we have a moment alone, please?»

«I’ll go on the couch.» He answers, still sleepy from the night before.

You watch Effie like you are doing an exam.

«I’m sorry. But it was for the best, I mean you are always tired and…» You begin, but she stops you.

«I get that you did it out of good intentions. But I need to believe in you.»

«You can!» You try not to cry again. «You are my best friend and I’m really sorry.»

«I still think you didn’t think it through, and that is because you are severely sleep deprived, but Daisy, what you did is wrong.»

«Totally wrong.» You confirm it.

«And you have your faults, my dear.» She rolls her eyes, totally unladylike, but she got soft on that part after the revolution. «Don’t look at me like a puppy, I forgive you.»

Maybe she didn’t expect the rush of you hugging her, but she strikes your hair anyway. You can’t lose Effie, you can manage to lose everybody else but not Effie. You clench your hands in her clothes.

«Unfortunately dear, that is not why I was here. This is a newspaper…»

On the cover there is you and Finnick, hugging in a club. You remember that part of the night, you were devastated because of the discussion with Perla and Lora and he was just comforting you.

There is a line in bold that says “ONCE A TRAITOR ALWAYS A TRAITOR?”.

You read the short paragraph in a hurry.

The former tribute Daisy Pinecone is caught in a passionate kiss with the leader of the rebellion Finnick Odair, who Capitol remembers as one of the most beloved victors of the Hunger Games of all times. Finnick Odair is married to Annie Cresta-Odair, and rumors tell us Daisy Pinecone was in a relationship with her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. Trouble in paradise, open couple or shameless cheating?

«Once a traitor? This is… This is…» You can’t find the right words. This is outrageous, you never betrayed anyone. And you are not a celebrity! Paparazzi were after YOU? You? You are nobody, only a tribute. Maybe they were after your friend, not you. Finnick was and still very much is a celebrity.

«Capitol propaganda.» Finnicks ends the line for you, appearing by the door. He looks better, he cleaned his face, but he is furious and rightfully so.

«Isn’t that supposed to be ancient history?» Effie asks, and she almost has tears in her eyes.

«We are not kissing!» You snap. «I was crying and we were hugging, we are not kissing!»

If Haymitch thinks you two are kissing he can do anything. Or nothing, you don’t know if he still cares, you don’t know if you two are still together, but you don’t want him to think you are cheating. You are not a cheater. And what if Marjorie finds the magazine? She would give it to him as proof. They could kiss again.

And Annie, oh poor Annie, who helped you so much. You feel like shit as the very thought, not only because of the kiss - she knows better than to believe that, but because she still got humiliated one way or another.

«I’ll go check on Annie on the phone.» You see him leave and you can just murmur a phrase, a bit ashamed. It was your fault, you were crying.

«Please, tell her that I’m sorry.»

«You should sleep a little more. I’ll call Portia.» Effie kisses your head. You feel a lot comforted by her words, and sleeping a little more seems perfect.

You use your free time from Portia to make amends with Perla and Lora, starting with Perla because you have to admit Lora’s words still hurt.

You stop along the line to get some pastries and you knock at her and Cinna’s door. It’s Cinna who actually opens the door, in a black pair of jeans and a white shirt, and you have to admit you are curious about their house.

You could have guessed, it’s very sober and moderate. The walls are white, all the furniture is in brown wood and there is no sign of an ornament, just some pictures of Cinna’s successes, and if you have to guest you think it’s Perla who hung them. Cinna seems like a humble man.

It’s smaller than what you pictured, but then you remember Cinna lost almost everything in the war and Perla is a district girl, she is not wealthy.

«This is not a good day, Daisy.» He warns you. What does he mean it’s not a good day? Does Perla have bad days? «Would you give her this? I was on my way to bring it to her.»

He hands you a cup of tea, and you nod.

The room is dark, and it scarcely reminds you about the times you caught Haymitch after a booze.

«Ehi.» You whisper, and you see her. She is in the bed, and while she remains your brilliant friend, you can see she is tired and maybe sick. «Are you not feeling well?»

She takes the tea out of your hands, but then she puts it on the bedside table.

«It’s nothing, it’s just a headache.» She briefly smiles at you and she shrugs. Her eyes are not smiling, though.

«I’m sorry about yesterday.» You taunt and you sit on the bed. «About jealousy and… I’m sorry. You were right.»

«It’s ok.» She murmurs. She looks like she is not even hearing you.

«You are worrying me, Perla.»

She stops smiling, her eyes are not shining and watering. You have never seen Perla like this. «I can't do this sometimes, Daisy.»

The confession shocks you. You are used to Strong Perla, she is the strongest of the trio, the one you know can handle herself. And that makes you selfish, you realize. Because you worry about Effie, you worry about Lora, but you never worry about Perla, because you think she is okay. She is your age, not younger like Lora, and she is from the District, not naivé and privileged like a Capitol girl, and she has a solid head on her neck, but that doesn’t mean she is not affected by the same things that shook you.

«What? But you have this special life, a job, a boyfriend and…» Your words fade.

«And you have the same life. Still, you tell me everything's alright?»

It's not and you both know it. The nightmares are so present in your life Doctor Aurelius suggested taking sleeping pills, but you are afraid you are going to be addicted to them. You saw how an addiction works, it's not pleasant and you do not wish to live the experience.

«Sometimes I can't get out of bed. I feel too tired and dizzy to even brush my teeth, and I know it's disgusting, I'm sorry.» She keeps going. «Sometimes I open my eyes and I’m still in that arena, in the caves, and I know I will have to kill or be killed. Sometimes I’m on the street and I suddenly remember the war. It’s the same street, Daisy. And I was there, fighting for my life. And I stand still, I can’t move even for hours, Cinna has to calm me down so much lately... You must think I’m crazy, it’s crazy…»

«It’s not. It’s usual for us.» You remember Doctor Aurelius’ voice. This is not your fault, this is Snow fault, and the Capitol, and later District Thirteen and Coin. Not yours. You are a victim, you have been a victim and there is no shame in this.

Except you feel guilty sometimes, and you bet Perla does too. Because you are here, you are alive and a lot of people are not, Capitol citizens, your classmates in Twelve, the kids.

«Us?» She asks, and she is abruptly younger than her age, she is just eyes, her big, big blue eyes.

«Tributes.» You explain, and you hop in the bed close to her.

«You are rocking this Capitol world…» She looks down.

«I wasn’t on the mission. I got caught by Thirteen before the action because I killed Caius, remember?» You fix her hair over her ear. «But I can’t go in the ocean, or open water for what it matters. And I’m not a big fan of a dark place like a cave. We all have our fragilities…»

«I’m not weak.» Her voice is harder now, rough. You know her so much and it must be a torture for her to perceive herself as fragile. You remember how much time she spent trying to convince herself she wasn’t in love, just because she didn’t want to depend on another person, as selfless and wonderful Cinna was.

«You are not! You are a member of the revolution, Perla, you volunteered for the mission! No one can think you are weak. But we are…» You can’t find the right word, because you don’t want to hurt her more.

«Damaged.» She finishes off for you.

«But we can be damaged together. Would you want it?» You propose. She just nods and she squeezes your hand, and you take it as a win.

After the long talk with Perla, you just want to go to bed ready to clear things out with Lora tomorrow. You can sleep more, now that you don’t need to work on your wedding dress, and you seriously need it because you are exhausted.

But your plans are not these ones for tonight, because lining against the door there is Haymitch.

You didn’t remember every detail in your dreams. He is here, his blonde hair loose on his shoulders, his magnetic blue eyes forged on your sight, with little wrinkles on the sides. He looks slightly older, like he is really tired or sick, but dear heavens he is handsome.

You can't totally explain why you are so in love with him. He is just that charismatic and beautiful, and his brain is so fascinating to watch at work. And he is a good man, a very good one.

«She didn’t want to let me in.» He explains. You missed his deep voice so much you already have chills on your spine.

He looks at you.

You look at him.

And you both burst into laughs like you are utterly stupid. And then just like magic your laughing turns into sobbing.

«We will talk, we will make up but please, just tell me if you still love me.» You feel so stupid but you have to ask yourself this question, because what once was a stupid banter got so big in your head you don’t know what is real anymore.

«What a stupid question, of course I still love you.»

When you see him you try not to cry, but he wraps his arms around your waist and he kisses you and you swear he watches you like you hang up the moon, and you burst into tears against his chest.

«I missed you so much. I’m sorry.» You didn’t want to cry, the whole point here is being an adult and you are not behaving like one.

«I’m here now, babygirl, I’m here now. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.» He wanted to come, he wanted to come sooner. He wasn’t with Marjorie.

«I’m sorry I didn’t call.» You say it at the same time.

«I screwed up, Sweetheart.» It’s cold outside but you can’t do anything right now, even if you are aware the common thing would be to tell him to join you in the house.

«I slapped you.» You remind him.

«I deserved it.» He grants. And he did, the first instinct was to chop his head off, he kissed another woman. He kissed the love of his previous life.

«I know you didn’t want to kiss her. I know it. Because you love me, right?» You want him to tell you. He doesn’t like to say it often and you respect it, it brings back memories of when everyone he loved died, you usually don’t push it. He says it in other things, like giving you the last bite of a sweet, or preparing you your favorite meals, or kissing your head while you are sleeping. Usually it’s enough, but not now.

«You are the love of my life.» He kisses you again, and you almost moan. You moan from a kiss, and it’s pathetic you are well aware of it, but the butterflies on the stomach are dancing rock and roll.

«And you are the love of mine. I swear.» You take his hand. It’s an overkill, because you are already in his arms, where you belong, but you want to feel his skin.

«Things are… I didn’t want to be damaged. I tried and I tried to be perfect for you, but I’m not.»

«I didn’t want perfection, I wanted you.» You say, and you are cheating a little because you are giving him puppy eyes, but this way he knows you mean it.

«But you deserve it. Every time you come into the room you bring the light. You are, I…» He is working himself up, so you put a hand on his chest.

«Easy.»

«I tried to suppress what I didn’t want you to see, and it’s fucking hard. I was a victor for all my life, and now I don’t even know who I am.»

That actually makes sense. If you live all your life in a certain way, it’s hard to change even for the better. But you wish he just told you.

«Haymitch, I was your maid, I was your tribute, I was your friend before. I know you, and I knew what I was dealing with when I decided to begin this relationship. But I love you. I love you when you are brooding and when you don’t like people and… we all have issues, we all made mistakes. To be fair I thought you had a strange behavior these days. Loving you was not a choice, but if I could have a choice I would love you again and again for the rest of my life.»

This speech is marvelous, you admit to yourself, and you earn another kiss. Now that you can move, you come home and you go straight to your room, but only to talk, at least for now. Your first instinct is to toss him on the bed and have your way with him, you are still Daisy Pinecone and he is still fucking attractive, but you are about to be twenty six. You have to be an adult.

«Okay, cards on the table. Tell me what you tried to force.» You smile at him, and you hope the smile is welcoming.

«Living with another person it’s fucking hard. And you are not that difficult to live with, but sometimes I need… I need to be alone. Not time, space. I need some place for myself.»

«That can be arranged, I would use some space just for myself too. We can have a room just for us and a room together.»

«Sometimes I need silence. I love your voice, but I’m used to my silence. I’m not one of the people who talks when they are alone in a room, I enjoy the lack of words.»

You laugh. «I’ll be quiet.»

«Well, that’s it. I tried to force my attitude…»

«I love your brooding attitude, it’s sexy.» You kiss his protests away, «No other complaints?»

«Nope. Your turn, Sweetheart.»

You expect to be hurt, but these are reasonable demands. He needs to be alone, it’s okay. You are aware you are a cuddler, but you can look for cuddles elsewhere. Effie is always welcoming you for hugs.

«I don’t want a small wedding. It won’t be a big wedding I assure you, but… a medium one. With all our friends and food and a big cake from Peeta. Katniss can sing. I’m doing the outfits. No cameras allowed, I promise you. But I don’t want just a toasting. I promise it will be very district, not Capitol. Is it okay?»

«Yes. Yes, of course.» He kisses your hand.

«And I want you to want it. I don’t want you to say yes because of me, if you changed your mind…» Maybe he loves you but he doesn’t want to get married. You got it granted last time, it’s not something you wanted so badly.

«I want to be your husband. I don’t care much for the ceremony, but I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting you. And I want to call you my wife.»

You blush and smile when he puts two fingers under your chin to lift it up and he gives you a sweet, sweet kiss. «You are stuck with me.»

«I thought I lost you.» You confess.

«We don’t deal well with the lack of sleep.»

«Definitely not. Perla wanted to kill you.»

«I bet.» He snorts.

«I love you.» You whisper against his lips. «I was totally lost without you.»

The kiss grows messier and you suddenly remember it’s two whole weeks you don’t kiss him.

«I missed you so much, Sweetheart. I’m proud to be yours.»

«So proud you can dance at the wedding?» You try.

«Nope. So proud I can watch you dance and I can picture you naked the whole time.»

You blush again - is this okay to be so affected by the man you sleep with for about a year? - and kiss him again giggling. «Rude.»

«Oh come on, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on.»

You shove him, but then you push him on the mattress and you climb on his lap. «My love?»

«Yes?» He asks you with a smirk on his smug face.

«Show me how much you love me.»

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